I Am Digging Myself Out of the Grave

My ongoing battle with post-partum depression

Photo by Volkan Olmez on Unsplash

Each day I awoke to a gray existence — gray walls, gray skin, gray food. I looked out the windshield each day on my drive to work and was greeted with gray skies. It came quickly and unexpectedly. Honestly, I don’t think I could tell you exactly when it happened. I just know that each day the colors started to disappear, the songs from the radio gradually became muted, and I just ceased to….feel.

I’ve always been hyper empathetic. I feel so deeply — the pain, sadness, or joy. I also absorb those feelings from others and take them on myself. But, humans are adaptable. I figured out how to shut off the hurt that hurts so bad. I figured out to turn it on and off. I figured out how to adapt.

But, time has a way of changing things. Several years ago I finally allowed myself to open up to those feelings. I laughed more, I cried (alot), I felt scared, joy, and I fell in love. Emotional connections and experiences help you feel alive. Why had I allowed myself to be disconnected for so long? That knowledge of the connection between hyper empaths and stress that I discovered so long ago just disappeared. I forgot. I just didn’t need it anymore.

That was, until four years ago (end of 2015). It didn’t happen quickly. It crept. I didn’t even realize it. I had my son in…