Published by Elephant Journal ~ December 6, 2016
I come from a family of extremely positive people.
The glass is half full. Somebody else always has it much harder than you, so don’t complain. It could be much worse, so be grateful. Pick yourself up—it’s not the end of the world.
I agree with all of these things of course. So allowing myself to feel anything but gratitude and happiness on a daily basis was incredibly uncomfortable for me.
The first time I experienced depression was after the birth of my first child. He was colicky and screamed almost every moment he was awake. It wasn’t the normal crying of a newborn infant, it was the full-pitched screeching until he was blue in the face wailing that left him choking for air and left me and his dad feeling hopeless, exasperated and exhausted.
By week six, I was in a full-blown depression. Exhausted, sleep deprived, hormonal, aching breasts, unable to bond with him or feel an ounce of real love in my heart for the child I had longed for my entire life—it all left me in shattered pieces.