My son and I, 1 and a half years ago
Here I am, back in the thick grey fog of depression again. I haven’t posted in a while. It’s easy to forget what it’s like to be back here when you have periods of happiness and normalcy, but when it inevitably returns it brings back all these horrible memories and fear and trauma. For ages (since my last bout of depression about a year ago, when I was off all meds post pregnancy) I had been on 150mg of venlafaxine and lithium, then over a few months I weaned off to 75mg and dropped my lithium altogether. I also came off the contraceptive pill. Riley was 1 and a half and we decided the timing was right to try for another baby. I felt strong, and stable, and content.
This year has been a bitch. Jonno’s Mum was in hospital from January to May undergoing and recovering from her stem cell transplant, her only hope of surviving leukaemia. She had complication after complication and was in and out of ICU. A few times we nearly lost her. In February we decided to accept an offer on our house and had a 3 week settlement to move back to the house attached to my Husband’s work. It made sense financially, but it has been tough going from a beautiful new house that we poured our heart and soul into to a 100 year old house that lacks sunlight or a pleasing aesthetic. All three of us got horrible strep throat in the middle of that and Jonno got so sick that he went to hospital via ambulance. Right before the move we found out the exciting news that I was pregnant, and 4 days later I unfortunately had a miscarriage. That was really hard to go through. It’s amazing how excited you can get in such a short time, and you can see your future ahead of you. Then suddenly it all fell apart. But despite all the stress of the year I felt stable.
Then throughout March as the weather started to turn colder, I started to notice my passion for work was waining. I started to question whether the workload was worth the love I have for it, and question myself if I should be staying home with Riley more. I was missing him and work had lost its spark. Then on March 27 I got Covid, and I got real sick. I had no energy, dizziness and brain fog. But on top of all of that, I felt low. I didn’t want to do anything. Everything felt like a chore and I would rather just sleep. It felt like I was depressed. But could I be? One minute everything was fine, and now life felt a bit off. Was reducing my meds finally catching up with me? Was being isolated at home getting me down? Was the change of season making me feel blue? I do hate when summer ends. I started dreading the thought of going downhill again. Will I ever escape the inevitable hold of depression for once and for all?
After weeks of feeling this way, I went back to my GP. She said the drop in meds and going off lithium which had worked really well for me was likely causing my depression. But I really didn’t want to go back on lithium. I knew it was a high-risk drug with pregnancy and it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take. And I wanted another baby. Jonno said if it came down to it, he would rather I go back on all my meds and be happy than to struggle with my mental health to conceive. I saw his point, but I wasn’t done. I didn’t want Riley to be an only child. I felt like he needed a little mate, and I longed to grow our little family and be a baby mum again.
My mood continued to get lower and lower. So I got back in touch with Doctor Gary, an amazing Psychiatrist I have seen on and off for years. He suggested I take lamotrigine, which was a mood stabiliser the same as lithium but it was safe enough to take during pregnancy. I was hopeful and keen to give it a try. I had to start on the lowest dose, increasing it every 2 weeks until it got to therapeutic level. This was going to take a few months.
But over time, life got worse. My Mother-in-Law passed away, which was really tough and still is. Personally, not only was I experiencing depression, but my anxiety had set back in too. I was finding it really hard to go to work, and the normal stressors and pace of the job was overwhelming me. Every time I had to stay late for meetings or professional development, I despised the fact that I hadn’t seen my son all day and I would only see him for 2 hours in the evening if I was lucky. I was also experiencing a lot of self-doubt as a teacher, constantly not feeling like I was doing a good enough job. After lots of thought, I decided to resign. That was hard, leaving my class of 10 and 11 year olds in the middle of the year that were much more fond on me than I realised. I felt guilty, but kept telling myself I had to put myself and my mental health first.
Soon after, I accepted and started a teacher aide job at a local school just down the road. There was no commute, the hours were set at 5 hours a day which would mean more quality time with my son, and I could have some time to work on helping myself. I looked forward to the freedom of being able to have the time to work out again, and not managing a ridiculous workload that would interfere with my family time.
I started, and within a few days I realised I had made a mistake. The class was year 1-3, the behaviours were hard, the children didn’t listen to me or even their own teacher, and most of all the work was dull. Transitioning from a job that was fast paced, creative and challenging to doing a lot of sitting around while the teacher taught felt like a huge demotion. While it ticked a lot of boxes on paper, this was not the job for me. My anxiety about going to work was at an all time high, and my depression was worsening. A week and a half into the job, I resigned.
What now? I put myself on the reliever app and have done a few days here and there. But relieving is hard. You go into a new school where you don’t know anyone or the students names, and because you don’t have those relationships the kids can be hard to manage. Suddenly I missed my old job, where I had colleagues and great relationships with my students. It gave me purpose. I feel stupid for throwing my job of 4.5 years away, and above all I feel completely lost. My depression spiralled further. Yesterday, I cried for half the day. I couldn’t pull myself out of it. Other days I feel numb, and worthless, and like I don’t want to get out of bed at all. My depression is also wanting me to spend less time with my son, because it’s hard enough looking after myself let alone an emotional toddler. I feel really bad about that, like a shitty mother. My negative thoughts about my life and self are dark and relentless. I feel like a failure.
So here I am, 2 days out from a long awaited appointment with Dr Gary. I need help, and obviously the lamotrigine isn’t working for me. I know I need to go back on lithium, I’ve known that for a while. But Riley is turning two this week, and going back on it puts conceiving a baby off the cards for now. Will I ever be able to come off it and be stable enough to have another baby? I always wanted two children close in age, and as time goes on the potential age gap gets further and further apart. I feel gutted, but I can’t go on like this. I am barely holding it together for my son as it is, and continuing like this is no life. Happiness is the number one goal, and I can see the stress this is putting on my husband and my family. So I have decided to talk to Gary about going back on lithium. I have to prioritise my mental health and stability. I have to count my blessings, and come to terms with the fact that I may only be able to parent one child. And I’m sure he would prefer a happy Mum than a new sibling.