Believing can be a really hard thing. Believing that your struggles are not your fault and believing that things will get better.
My struggle with postnatal depression (PND) has been hard. It is still hard. Everyday can be a fight to believe that I will get better, that life is worth fighting for and that things will get better. I keep trying to shake off the negative thoughts, keep trying to believe that PND really is a chemical imbalance and not just one of my failings. It is hard for me to see that my super supportive and amazing husband, parents, family and friends don’t see me as a failure for having only boys, for having only c-sections, for having PND, for finding things hard.
I often wonder what people see/think when the meet and interact with me (I know I shouldn’t care). Do they see someone who looks like they have things under control and has an ‘easy life’ with a warm house, food, family and confidence. Or do they see the me that has little self-esteem, that feels like a failure, that struggles to be enough and do enough.
I often lecture my boys especially Max on ‘trying his best’. We often battle each other over my desire for him to do his best and his desire to sometimes just be. I have had to swallow humble pie and learn from him that it is ok to just be, that you can’t always do your best. We have made peace in many ways agreeing that you have to believe, just like you have to believe in Santa for him to come, you have to believe in yourself and in the future and in trying no matter how hard things are for ourselves.
I keep trying to believe that I am worth it and believe that my family still love me despite my imperfections. I keep trying to be grateful. I keep trying to believe things will get better.
Noah didn’t believe he could climb to the top of Rangitoto a real volcano – but his photo shows he could do it.