I wanna talk about Post Partum Depression

I know. You'd think with my kid being over three years old I'd be over it, right? But no. I'm not.

I think about it a lot, in fact. Think about how I was. Things I did or didn't do. Wonder if other women have it. As much attention as it's getting (now, as compared to years past), it still feels like something we don't talk about nearly enough.

There's still too much stigma attached to it.

I came across this post about misconceptions re: PPD, and I get it.

Jason didn't, doesn't, and hasn't ever talked about my his our experience with PPD, so I honestly don't know exactly what he was thinking. Or still thinks.

If any of those misconceptions, I think Jason might have had the first one: "Women who are depressed cannot function."

Maybe. He's never really said.

The only reason I say this is because sometimes I thought (still) think that he never realized how sick I was, because I was functioning, I was getting by.

Honestly, taking the context out of the home and looking back at some of my actions & behaviors during my post partum months, I cannot believe none of my co-workers raised the red flag.

I know I work with men (who can sometimes be oblivious to details), and I know they travel frequently, but... I still cannot believe that not one saw a serious problem. Or at least, no one talked to me about it, or reported me (we have a hotline here for such issues).

But I suppose it was because I was "functioning".

I got my work done. On time. The work was still done well.

Sure, my personality had completely changed, I didn't care about anything, I was barely recognizable, and  on occasion got into yelling matches with my supervisor in open office space, but... I was functioning, so I must be fine, right?

Wrong.

I was not fine. Not even close.

Functioning does not mean okay.

You know, one of my co-workers recently battled cancer. He never stopped working. Sure, he took off here & there for doctors' appointments, called in when he was overwhelmed by the chemo & radiation treatments, and was more emotional than usual.

But he was still functioning.

In fact, he didn't want pity, so he only told three of us about his illness. The rest don't even know. That's how well he functioned.

Since he was functioning, he must've been fine, right?

Wrong.

Here's the truth about me:

I remember not wanting to move. I remember hearing Jena cry and not wanting to get up. I remember not feeling like I could get up. I remember not feeling anything. I remember thinking that I should feel more sympathetic towards this little being who was depending on me to feed her, change her diaper, and hold her.

But I didn't feel that way. I didn't want to do it.

But... for me... there was still a voice in my head saying "you're her mom, get up and do it". And so I did.

Even when I didn't want to. Even when I felt nothing. Even when inside I really could have cared less that she was hungry and lying in a poopy diaper.

I felt nothing. I didn't feel like I cared at all.

But I was her mom. So I did it.

Something inside of me compelled me to take care of her, even when the rest of me wanted to lie in bed all day long.

Sometimes I think she saved me from experiencing the depths of depression, because she was my only motivation for getting up, for moving, for existing outside of my bed / couch / wherever I happened to have ended up.

I don't know why that compulsion forced me to get up and take care of her, but others just can't will themselves out of bed.

I don't know.

The only answer I have is that PPD, while there are similarities, affects each of us differently.

And I know that approximately 15% of pregnant women in this country will end up with Post Partum Depression. If you include PP-PTSD, PP-Anxiety, PP-OCD, the statistic rises. And of course, that statistic only includes those who self-reported or received help in the first place.

Fifteen percent. Fifteen out of 100. Three out of 20. Nearly one in seven women will suffer from PPD following their pregnancies.

I want to talk about it, because I want other moms to be able to talk about it.

I want to talk about it, because I want to find a way to help that mom get out of bed to tend to her child.

I want to talk about it, because it needs to be talked about.

Because moms (and husbands, and family members, and friends, and co-workers) need to understand that just because she's functioning, doesn't mean she's fine.

Yeah. I wanna talk about Post Partum Depression.

Rip off the band-aid already

I prefer to work alone... and not just because I'm an introvert.

Today's a great example of why I dislike working in groups. Right now I have exactly 63 open items on my to-do list at work. Sixty-three.

Right now, each and every one of those 63 open items is waiting for someone else to act before I can do my job.

I have actually finally managed to complete everything I need to do... except for sixty-three items that are waiting for someone else to do their job first.

Which means right now I'm trying to look productive.

Which means that whenever those other folks decide to get on the ball & do their part of the work, I'll be flooded. Again.

Because experience tells me it'll come in at the same time.

Sixty three.

The really frustrating part? The majority of it I can do on my own. As in, I'm perfectly capable, I've done it before, I have experience, etc.

But... some of the items are waiting for management to "officially" approve my suggestions before I can act on them.

Some of the items management is making me wait for input from different groups to be all sensitive to the current tense environment in our office (from the recent org changes).

And the rest of the items are part of various working groups they made me head up, instead of doing things myself (like I have successfully done for the past 7 years), in order to help people feel more involved and included.

Now, I'm know I'm a girl, and so people expect me to have feelings and be all sensitive and junk, but... when it comes to work... it's work.

I expect the focus to be on productivity and getting the job done, and I have little tolerance for making up bull-crap committees just so little Janie can feel like a part of the team. Or catering to other groups because they're ticked off about an org change. It happened. I don't like it either, but the decision was made at levels way above yours or mine, so... deal with it and move on.

Wanna feel like a part of the team? Do your job. Doing your job means you're contributing to the success of the company, and that is what makes you part of the team. Period.

And no, I'm not upset just because it's directly affecting my productivity, but because it's affecting the productivity of everyone around me.

Management is tip-toeing around, cow-towing to overly sensitive crybabies, afraid to upset people who are already upset and who aren't going to be happy no matter how many gestures you offer them.

People are ticked off about this change. People are stressed and anxious about what this change means for their jobs (myself included). Slowing productivity so that you can put on a face and try to get everyone to play nice by forcing them to be part of working groups and work processes that they have no interest in isn't doing anyone any favors.

Wanna get this change over with more quickly and get things settled into the new normal as quickly as possible?

Get your act together as a management team. Make decisions at your level, then tell your employees what needs to be done, and trust them to do it. Then keep your eyes & your ears open. Stop going into closed door meetings, and start being accessible to your employees again.

When Sally gets mad and throws her binders down on her desk and throws her papers on the floor because she's frustrated (true story), take her into a meeting room and ream her a** out.

When Billy is treating Carl badly just because Carl came from the "other" group (also true story), pull Billy into a meeting room, and ream his a** out.

The reason the tension is dragging on, is because you're not forcing your employees to face reality. This is the new reality, like it or not. Tip-toeing around, trying to keep everyone happy, trying to make everyone feel included won't work. All you're gonna do is create the expectation that things will always be that way. And they won't. So disappointment, frustration, and anger will resurface later when you finally find your backbone.

You're intentions are good, but you are drawing this out longer than it needs to be.

Rip off the band-aid already.

Your employees need a reality check, and you have to give it to them.

And once it finally sinks in, each one of us has one of two choices:
    1) stay    or    2) go

It really is that simple.

So, since I'm sitting here waiting for other people to check in with their progress, and I've already cleaned my desk, scheduled my doctor's appointments, and read my blogs...

Can I please go home? Paid?

It's not my fault I can't do my job. I'm just doing what you told me to.

Grrrrrr.

*************

I totally didn't mean for that to turn into a vent about how management was handling things. It just came out. But it's true, so... I'm leaving it.

I almost declared a mental health day today, or...

... quit my job.

But I did neither. I pushed through. Like I always do.

On the way to work this morning, stressed out as usual, I broke down once again.

I had a conversation with the imaginary people in my car about how no, I cannot get it together. Can't you see that I'm trying? Can't you see that I've been trying for three years? That I'm a great wife, a great mom, a great employee, and a great volunteer, but when you put them all together I fail at each & every one? Can't you see that I'm barely getting by, and struggling every day?

I seriously considered dropping Jena off at preschool, then turning around, going back home, and crawling back into bed.

But I kept heading toward work anyway.

So then as I walked thru the parking lot, I thought maybe I should quit my job. Just quit. Enough's enough. Put in my notice, I'm done, I can't do it anymore.

But I went in, sat down at my desk, and got to work anyway.

It's what I do. I get it done. Mostly. And poorly, nowadays. But I get it done. Mostly.