Postpartum Depression Diaries Part 2: I am not Charlie-Sheen-winning at motherhood

Last week I shared part 1 of a series of writings from a dark time in my life. Everyone around me seemed to be creating a beautiful life with their children and I was just trying to survive the day. Only in retrospect do I realize that my experience wasn't normal, it was mired by postpartum depression. Now that I can readily see the beauty in my life, it hurts me to read these words laced with anger and confusion. I hope it may help one person who's facing their own darkness.

If you are experiencing any symptoms of postpartum depression, seek help from your doctor. There is no shame in what you cannot control.

Sometimes parenting sucks. Sometimes I want to puke all over the Facebook status describing your perfect parenting day filled with the magical mundane.

You're peacefully wearing your baby as birds chirp outside your kitchen window and I'm being pinched and pushed and rejected for, oh I don't know, being in the bathroom without my child for 34 seconds.

You're taking your time to pick wildflowers with your little one on the walk to your enriching and educational activities and I'm just trying to run a single errand in the hour or so between cat naps that she's somewhat agreeable.

You're delighting in sharing a family bed with your little one and basking in all of the copious cuddles and I'm having a near panic attack because, well, my lovey doesn't want to self soothe or be comforted.

My new full time job is feeling like a terrible mom. Don't worry, she's fed, dry, warm, held, loved, played with, etc., but I always feel like I'm blindly navigating every aspect of parenting.

I am not Charlie-Sheen-winning. Or maybe this is the exact definition of Charlie-Sheen-winning.

photo credit: JuanLazy via photopin cc

I have my ideals, but I can't live up to them.

My husband and I were told in marriage counseling that we were overly idealistic about each other, but at least I have some sense of control of how our marriage goes. I have the power to be loving, respectful and understanding and my husband always responds in kind.

But when you throw in a new personality who is affected by a million different, silent things but cannot clearly communicate, I feel lost. Because what helped her yesterday aggravates her today and I don't have any magic answers.

I know you can sympathize more than your social media page attests. Let's face it, no one wants to be Charlie Sheen, but I feel lost and alone. I'm frantically looking for a flashlight some days because the darkness feels heavy. I'm wondering if I'll ever get the hang of it. I'm wondering if you now think I'm completely unfit to be a mom.