The last few months I have been incredibly ill due to hyperemesis gravidarum (extreme morning sickness in pregnancy) and POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome.) This has left me feeling drained beyond repair, beaten down by life, and utterly hopeless that the future could possibly shine bright again. With incessant vomiting, it felt as though I was not only emptying the contents of my stomach but also the contents of my heart. My depression grew into a daunting tidal wave threatening to drown me. In addition, I recieved my POTS diagnosis. This brought relief at being validated at long last, but also grief at having to alter my life…for the rest of it.
Between grief and all my physical symptoms, I grew suicidal. I felt selfish and terrible for feeling this way because I’m pregnant. Shouldn’t this be one of the happiest moments of my life? Shouldn’t I be more grateful? And I AM grateful and happy about my child, but sometimes depression doesn’t care what you have to be happy about. People say things like “you could have it worse,” and while that’s true, it’s invalidating and is basically the same as saying “you can’t be happy because someone, somewhere, has it better.” But still, even with this mindset, I crumbled. I stopped writing for my blog. I stopped making YouTube videos, partly due to just plain being too sick but also because it felt like the fire in my heart had been extinguished. I felt broken and fearful that I would never find myself again. Even as I write about my experience, I feel rusty and not quite there yet.
I have not yet had my baby but after almost being hospitalized for suicidal ideation, I decided I needed to enlist some extra help. I went in and spoke to my doctor about my options. I called my therapist. I called upon my wonderful friends to help occupy my time and slowly but surely, I started to find the real me again. Depression is a robber but I am equipped to retaliate. Stay strong.