Sunday 23 October 2016

time and me

As i stood there, waving at the taxi that was leaving for the airport with my partner, i did not cry. It was only ten days ago that the magical moment had happened.  i wanted to be strong. i wanted to be calm. i wanted to be the best that i can be for my little man.

The pain of separation from your best friend, mingled with the immense pressure of handling your baby right, created a chaos in the mind that went unnoticed to the conscious self. My parents were there to support me through that phase and support they did. Yet, the photographic joy that you imagine would follow the birth of your child is far from reality. From the bloody mess of the hospital, you come home to the truth that life will never be the same again. The peaceful shower times, the relaxing meal times were things of the past. Late at night when you go for a pee break, the little man magically wakes up and wails at the top of his voice.

You learn to eat while cradling the baby to sleep. You learn to shower in minimal time. You learn that rest is the ability to take a deep breath. But you often wonder, in the dead of the night, in corners of the room, in your solitude, on the sly, whether you have taken on more than you can handle. You think about it and you shun yourself to silence. What a silly thought is that! How can a mother even think like it!

The more such thoughts crowd the mind, the more you lean away from thinking to extroverted exaggerated actions of affections, celebrations and responsibilities. And still everything can't be done right. When anything goes amiss, the soul is tortured to believe that the self is at fault.

In the midst of it all, the little man learns to hold on to his bottle with fist-ed hands, wants to crawl, falls off from the bed, has potty issues, learns to run with his walker. So many life events happen that the soul wants to forget it has any pain. But the tears welled up within. They were tears of joy as much as they were tears of that prickly pain that is of no use.

It was six months after post natal depression set in, i think, that i revealed to my family the fact that i was in depression. Time heals, people say. Sometimes it does not. And you need help.  

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