Pregnancy and Mental Health

Growing up, I always dreamed of becoming a mom. My only lapse in the idea of being a parent happened a few years ago when I was single, and wanted to travel for a living. That quickly changed when I entered a comitted relationship, and realized I wanted to settle down and start a family. 

While marriage still isn't in the works for my boyfriend and I at the moment, we are having our first child in July. Our first, and if the cosmos see fit, only. This pregnancy wasn't planned, but I was still beyond happy when I found out we were expecting because for a while, we didn't think it was possible for me. Now that I know we can conceive, I'm making the conscientious choice not to do it again.  

via Google 

I already love our son more than anything in the world, and he's not even here yet. However, the toll that the hormones have taken on my mental health is enough to make me not want to be pregnant ever again. As women, we hear tons of stories about pregnancy hormones, mood swings, etc., but the truth is, none of that can be accurately described until you go through it yourself because every woman and every body is different.  

I've always battled with anxiety and depression, but being pregnant is the first time in seven years that I I've felt like literally giving up on life. Some days are better than others, but everyday is a struggle between putting on a happy face and living, or giving up and not. I found myself lying I bed feeling purposeless, and I couldn't bring myself to put pen to paper because every ounce of inspiration was gone.  

via Google

Even my relationship has been suffering. For the first time in the two years we've been together, I have questioned our ability to stay together. I've told him to leave, we slept in separate bedrooms, and even straddled the line of a break-up. Which, in hindsight, I guess is why people suggest waiting until marriage to start a family. Babies are a huge financial responsibility, and adding those stresses into a mix of ever-changing hormones is a recipe for disaster if you do not have your mental health in check. 

I'm choosing myself first when I say I'd rather hold on to my sanity than have another baby. Pregnancy is not easy. It's a long, annoyingly painful process. All of which I can handle. But when my mental health, and the sanity of my relationship become jeopardized, I have to take a step back and really think of what's more important. I choose me.  

I See You.

by Kori P.

I see you.

Sitting over there in the corner booth, a gorgeous girl by your side. You are surrounded by friends, love and laughter, but every time you reach for a drink, I see you.

I see you force the smile everyone fell in love with.
I see you hide the sorrow in your eyes.
I see you hide the emptiness in your heart.
I see you.

I am so sorry you didn’t know that I could see you. I am so sorry you felt you were fighting alone. The demons consumed you, and we all sat back and watched. For that I am sorry.

It was only a few days before your untimely death that you spoke about your will to live. Your will to fight. I mistook your fear for strength, how could I be so stupid? What could have been a cry for help was simply responded to with, “You got this” and “I’m praying for you” by many who truly did love you and believe in you, but we missed it. Somewhere along the path we were walking we missed the bread crumbs you were dropping. The clues that you were giving up, but not quite ready to let go.

At what point did the birds come? At what point did they eat the crumbs? This is something I must know, for you see, maybe I could go back to that time and draw a line in permanent marker. For then, you’d never lose your way. When it seemed all the crumbs were eaten, and you were too far gone, you’d see my marker trail and find your way back to us, to yourself.

But this life has no rewind button, we only live each moment once. We must breathe one breath at a time, one breath after another. You must never lose the will to take that next breath, for it is then you have decided it is not worth it.

That is what you did. You decided.

The way you took your life will forever haunt me. I live in this town; I drive past the place quite often. It’s as if you wanted us to remember your pain, the pain you learned to hide so well. I weep when I think of you standing there alone, note in hand as you came to terms with what you were going to do. My heart aches when I picture you scared and hurting. I am angry with God for not letting someone drive past you and stop you. I am angry at your close friends for not being there. I am angry, and it isn’t fair.

You let it beat you…control your mind and actions. The guilt I feel is unbearable. The pain is indescribable. It is an awkward empty feeling, a burning in the pit of my stomach. I want to throw up, scream, shout, run as fast as I can until the road runs out. Run away from it all. Escape it all. When will it end?

My friend I hope your soul has found peace. I hope you give comfort to those of us who love you and are mourning. Your name is one we will honor; your death will not be in vain.

Sweet loves that this reaches, I know you share my pain somehow. Perhaps you need someone to tell you they see you. If that is the case, then please know I do. Someone out there always sees you, you are never alone. Depression is real. Addiction is real. And we know that.

If you are out there then hear this, for you have choices to make.
Curl in a ball and pity yourself in a dark room with the curtains shut tight, that’s is fine, shut the world out. Center yourself. Find yourself. Find your worth. Pray
Scream and shout. Throw things. Pitch a fit. That is fine. Release the anguish so it doesn’t build inside

until you feel you have no choice.
Bust down the doors of the church after hours, seeking God’s face. That is fine. He will meet you at the altar. He always will.
Breathe, for this too shall pass. 
You are loved. You are worthy.

But my friend, if you decide nothing else, decide this:

Live.

Life With Social Anxiety

By Anonymous 

I am 25 and out of those 25 years I think that I was an outgoing person for maybe 13 of those years. Up until my teen years I was okay with making friends and hanging out with everyone I met, I didn’t care if I was disliked by anyone. I was on a quest through middle school to make as many friends as possible. I liked to make people laugh and feel as though I brought some sort of enjoyment to their lives. 

Then, high school happened and that all went out the window. Suddenly I was concerned about everything and everyone. Does my hair look good? Are my clothes fashionable? Am I ugly? These were daily questions I would ask myself and quite honestly they were questions that I had all of the wrong answers to. Out of nowhere I went from being a social butterfly to a curmudgeon. 

You would think eventually I would stop caring about peoples opinions of me, that would have been the smart move. It hasn’t happened yet and here I am at 25 years of age. It’s quite confusing really, I want to have social interaction but the second I go out somewhere I curse my existence and wish I would have stayed home. It’s sad when you get down to it, my constant fear of judgement makes my life about as interesting as watching paint dry. 

Maybe one day I will overcome this crippling fear but it isn’t looking good. I don’t make eye contact , I don’t smile, I walk with my head down everywhere I go and I will purposefully avoid contact with people just because I know that they can’t judge me if they can’t see me. 

What started all of this? That’s a good question but ultimately I don’t have an answer. I would assume my mind has hidden it away somewhere for me to never find as I’m sure it’s unpleasant. The kicker to all of this is that I’ve just accepted it. I don’t go out anymore, ever. The few friends I do have ask me if I want to go out occasionally and I turn them down time and time again. The fact that I even have friends is a miracle in itself.

Who knows, perhaps one day my social anxiety will leave just as quick as it came on and I shall return to my former glory as that funny guy who goes places. Yeah right, who am I kidding, I’ll probably end up as a crazy cat person by the time I’m 40.