Postpartum

It's crazy how we have the information right at our fingertips yet we stand still in educating ourself on how to be decent human beings. Mental illness has always plagued the black community, I mean how could it not? But even with acknowledging the traumatizing circumstances we've been given it's as though mental illness is that of the devil. You can eat, sleep and pray it away. If you lift enough weights, get enough hobbies it'll all disappear. I knew it was going to happen, I feared it my entire pregnancy. I knew that when all was said and done that I would be challenged with being a mom and holding myself together mentally in a way that others would'nt understand, be sensitive to, or take seriously. My grandmother (super religious by the way) looks at postpartum as a failure, a sign you're unfit. My sisters have no kids and of course their most supportive answer is therapy. And the only person I've been able to be fully partcially transparent about my challenges is my mother. With her I find a level of comfort no other human being has been able to give me, a sense of peace, a lack of judgement, but I know shes doesn't always know what to say, and I know that saying a little too much would worry her. I think people are use to me being so strong, getting through whatever bullshit life often throws at me and coming out on the other side okay. But what people fail to realize is each time you turn up on the other side you may have gained knowledge strength or understanding, but you lose a piece of yourself and you gain trauma, triggers and grief. No matter how many times you've traveled through that tunnel you still get lost,you still feel lonely and those dark thoughts still linger in the back of your mind. I have a friend who I called often tell me that she didn't bother checking up on me because she "thought I was going through something". It's amazing how something so simple could hurt so much. How me going through something was a sign to desert me instead of check in. How me going silent was a sign to walk away instead of making sure that I was'nt sinking. Honestly maybe it's my fault? I mean I've been told my depression and anxiety makes me insufferable so maybe in order to save themselves they thought distance was best. It gets me thinking though, about people who have it worse. Those who are on their last string,their last breath of air, who need just one person, one friend to check in. I often wonder how many of their friends and family that are so use to them coming out on the other side left them alone for a little too long. You see postpartum is a tunnel like no other. This time you're not walking through it alone you have someone attached to you. It's not just your voice, it's little cries and screams that have to be tended to. You're not just hearing those bad thoughts about yourself but every thought by everyone who thinks you're not doing something right. Postpartum is exhausting because you're traveling through and you dont even know who you are anymore, let alone who you'll be on the other side. Your body is'nt the same, your mind is glitching, you barely sleep, you eat to provide instead of enjoy, you've tossed aside your favorite things and yet everyone thinks you should be ok. Motherhood is an endless journey of physically changes, mental shifts, and shedding skin.