(rated PG)
When you find yourself unable to enjoy anything,
it’s time to ask for help, writes
Orla Breeze
.
Bundles of joy?
I
don’t do exercise. And I definitely do
not run. In fact, I saw a great t-shirt
online that summed up my entire
attitude to exercise in one sweet
sentence: “
If you ever see me running,
you should run too because something is
probably chasing me
.”
I want that t-shirt.
Consequently, it’ll come as no
surprise that I won’t be telling you how
many star-jumps are required daily for
optimum fitness or how many bicep
curls are necessary to eliminate bingo
wings. It just ain’t my thing. However, if
you were to ask me about
mental
health,
that would be a different kettle of fish
altogether. Why, I could write a whole
encyclopaedia on that topic –
especially the dreaded postnatal
depression.
And I’m not talking about the kind
that results in psychosis or an inability to
bond with your child, although that kind
certainly exists. I’m talking about the less-
talked-about type that isn’t so obvious
yet still takes a toll – what I like to call the
“creeps up on you and hangs around
like a bad smell” variety – because that’s
the one that spent a whole lot of time
with me in the early weeks, months, OK, I
admit it, years of The Motherhood. Which
wasn’t at all helpful and was about as
welcome as an early-morning run. Or
any kind of run, for that matter.
So what makes this sort of PND
different? For starters, it’s not debilitating
in the way most depressions are. You can
achieve at quite a high level whilst under
its influence. You can:
• Take care of all of a baby’s needs
• Laugh
• Socialise
• Care about your appearance
• Work
• Have a relationship
You can do all of the things that
would normally floor you if any other
kind of depression even thought about
coming your way. See? So sneaky.
It’s also deviously clever in how it
seeps in. It knows you’re distracted by
this new phase of your life and that it’s
your first time experiencing this thing
called Motherhood. So, hey, maybe
you’ll just think it’s part and parcel of it.
Maybe you’ll be a bit surprised at how
emotionally challenging it is, but you’ll
probably simply accept that this is how
parenting is. Super-sly.
So, how is a new mum ever
supposed to know that she is dealing
with a very tricky PND at a very tricky
time? Easy. Just ask yourself if you’re
enjoying anything, because I guarantee
you, the one thing you will have no
connection to is joy.
Of any kind.
And that, my friends, along with
some gentle nudging from two very
persistent, very good friends, was how I
realised that something was up.
Nothing gave me a deep sense of
joy. Planning a holiday? Nothing. A full
weekend all to myself? Nada. Family
visiting from afar? Zilch. Don’t get me
wrong: I liked all these things but I didn’t
enjoy
them, which was a subtle but big
difference.
The good news, however, is that
despite the complexity of the issue and
the duration of time you can be affected
by it, the solution is exceedingly simple.
Ask for help.
Having PND does not mean you are
a bad mother, or an inadequate mother,
or a terrible one. It just means you have
PND. There is a world of help at your
fingertips if you simply ask. I deserved it.
You deserve it. And the joy that bursts
back onto the scene is, frankly, too good
to miss. So if you think you’ve fallen prey
to this devious, underhanded, super-
sly trickster, do the one thing it doesn’t
expect you to do:
Simply ask for help.
22
Playtimes
