I’m revising my memoir Adventures With Postpartum Depression and sharing some of the deleted scenes here on the blog. Parts of this passage will probably make it into the final version, but I wanted to share it now, in this form, because it was so difficult for me to understand the physical parts of postpartum depression even as I myself was being treated for that very illness.
I still occasionally had days where it felt like my muscles were melting off my bones. No matter how much I slept, no matter how much caffeine I consumed, my body felt like a useless sack of jelly.
I first experienced this fatigue in the hospital on the same day that I realized I was depressed. I assumed the physical feeling of exhaustion was my body’s way of adjusting to my medications.
The muscle-melting fatigue happened again after I was discharged from the hospital. Every afternoon, I felt exhausted in the marrow of my bones and collapsed on the guest room bed while Laura watched Pippa.
Napping, though, did not help. Lying down did not help. In fact, the longer I lay in bed, the harder it was for me to mobilize and get back to the act of living.
Even as I felt better and better, the fatigue still sometimes struck without warning.
Several times, I felt it slam into my body at Mommy and Me class. I could hear the moms talking but felt as if I was sinking into an invisible ocean.
The fatigue also liked to grab me whenever Nathan was driving us somewhere on the weekend.
And most baffling and frustrating, the fatigue often tried to haul me back into bed even after I got seven or eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.
For months and months, I thought of this as Zoloft-fatigue. The Zoloft was doing good things for me, so I accepted this little side effect.
Then, over six months after I was first diagnosed with postpartum depression, it hit me.
I was not experiencing Zoloft-fatigue.
I was experiencing DEPRESSION-fatigue.
Before I had postpartum depression, I always equated “depression” with having a “bad attitude” and “crappy mindset.” Depression was all in the person’s head. They did not need to spend all day in bed moping. If they could just adopt a more pleasant attitude, they would be fine.
Depression is not just in the head. It is physical. For me, it felt as if the muscles were melting off my bones. I spent a lot of time resting in bed not because I had a crappy attitude but because I truly and physically felt incapable of doing anything else.
Want to stay in touch? Want to know when the book Adventures With Postpartum Depression is published? Sign up for the newsletter!