I have never been a morning person. When I was 12, my entire family slept through our alarms and missed our plane to Disney World. All. Of. Us. I’m sure we paid fees out the wazoo for that little mishap, but the extra three hours of slumber were oh-so-sweet.
In high school, I was scarily close to not being allowed to graduate. I racked up 42 unexcused tardies to my 7:20 a.m. psychology class with Mrs. Khamis. When I did make it, I fell asleep at my desk. Mrs. Khamis was so sweet. Most mornings she just let me doze off. Luckily, I was a good student and the class president, so I think she just let me slide.
Although I still consider myself a “sleep-centric” individual, every Tuesday morning at 6:00 a.m. on the dot, you will find me LEAPING out of bed. I never press snooze, and I don’t oversleep. Tuesday is therapy day.
I wasn’t always one to jump for joy at the thought of having a therapist. For years I’ve hid it like a dirty little secret. How can I continue my charade of having my crap together if people know I need therapy? Newsflash, NO ONE has their crap together. If they say they do, they are probably lying. Or they are Joanna Gaines.
I can thank motherhood for cracking me wide open and giving me the gift of releasing so much of the shame and stigma I attached to my mental illness. I think we can agree the transition to motherhood is literally bat-crap crazy. During those first months deep in the parenthood trenches, I realized the only way I was going to survive was a whole lot of honesty, and myself getting some help. Mamas, today is World Mental Health Day 2018, and I strongly encourage you to step outside your comfort zone and find yourself a therapist.
The amount of pressure and anxiety that comes along with being responsible for a tiny human can be crushing. A mom’s brain is a constant hamster wheel of what-ifs, checklists, worst case scenarios, and overwhelming love and devotion. Having your heart beat outside of your body, and walk around in an unpredictable world is truly terrifying. Having someone completely dedicated to helping tackle these (often irrational) fears and create a toolkit of coping mechanisms for motherhood, can be an incredible gift.
I was lucky enough to find a therapist who has three children and is about 15 years ahead of me in her motherhood journey. She unselfishly and objectively helps me down my parenting path, and so often gets a huge smile on her face when I’m talking hard days with my son. Although we don’t always discuss motherhood (I have a smorgasbord of other problems, too), she constantly reminds me that even when I feel fragile and ill-equipped, I am doing a pretty darn good job.
I so badly want this type of reassurance and safe space for every mom I encounter. I now shout from the rooftops how thankful I am that I’ve found someone to help me face my anxiety head-on, and how it has helped me become a better mother.
Finding the right therapist can be tricky. Like dating, you will have to be honest and open about your expectations for your therapeutic relationship. Just like you wouldn’t swipe right on the very first Tinder profile, don’t commit to the first therapist that calls you back. I encourage you to research providers and ask them about their backgrounds. Make sure that motherhood and perinatal wellness is on their resume.
If you are interested in finding a therapist to be your own personal motherhood cheerleader, I recommend the following resources to get you started:
- https://www.psychologytoday.com
- https://www.nami.org/
- http://www.nationalperinatal.org/mental_health
Whatever you do, please don’t suffer in silence. Comment if I can answer any of your questions or help guide you towards a mental healthcare professional in your area.
Thank you for sharing your story!! As the girl who has always acted like I have my shit together, it was one of the absolute hardest things to admit to myself that I needed help. I had just lost my mom I had a brand new baby and had no clue what the hell I was doing. I didn’t want to take medicine because I was fine. That is what I kept telling myself, but I was not fine my mom and best friend was gone who was going to help me I no longer knew how to talk to my husband and how could he possibly understand. He would think I am crazy. We came to a breaking point. I finally went to meet with grief counselor and we went to marriage counseling. My doctor helped and with the support of other moms in the little group I created to surround myself with helpped pull me back and realize I was not ok, but not only that I was also not the only one who was having a hard time. Thank you for your honesty and hey I’ll always be there to help get your kid through the crazy maze.