Diary of a Working Mum

But it is still the best thing I ever did.

The first few years of being a mother were extremely difficult for me. I would stare in the mirror daily, unable to recognise the woman staring back at me.

Dark eye bags framed my tired eyes, and my once raven black hair was now a faded, tangled mess. My complexion had gone from being naturally glowing and youthful, to sallow, yellow and full of imperfections. It was hard to accept that my spark had just…gone.

When my daughter was approaching her first birthday, I still felt no better mentally. I couldn’t figure out what I was constantly anxious about. I had no idea why I felt desperately sad all of the time. My daughter was the only thing I looked forward to each day, but even being with her was sometimes too overwhelming. When my mind was troubled with anxious and intrusive thoughts, it was difficult to cope with my daughters crying, or the need to be constantly alert. This photo was taken around that time, and I remember this day well. It was a rare day where I had felt some positivity, and where I was able to be fully present with my daughter.

I didn’t know where my spark had gone. It had happened gradually, over the last twelve months. I had been drowning in nappies, vomit and formula for so long that my own personal care was no longer a priority. The calming music that I used to unwind to had been replaced with the relentless screaming of my newborn. I had been drowning in the unwanted parenting advice from people, even though I knew they meant well.

I recall one particular day where I felt terrible about myself. My daughter was around two years old. Looking in the mirror, I tilted my head to try and make sense of who I was. The oversized shirt I was wearing was starting to smell. I hadn’t ironed it, and it had multiple vomit stains on it from days gone by. I wasn’t even wearing trousers, well not socially acceptable trousers anyway. They were barbie pyjama bottoms, bright pink and far too small for me. Since having my daughter, it’s fair to say I was looking a lot plumper. The overhang from my c-section was getting bigger everyday, something which I hated. This photo was taken when I was having one of my worst days, when everything was just dark, gloomy and felt too much. When I look at this photo, all I see is emptiness in my eyes. I remember how my daughter and I had laid down together for a nap, and she had put her head on my shoulder. I wanted to capture the moment, to be able to look back on it and appreciate it. In that moment, I had zero clarity of mind. Everything was just hazy.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I just did not know how I could carry on fighting with my own thoughts every second of every day. From that day, everything got worse. And worse. To everyone else, I seemed happy and content. I made light of the fact I looked like a scarecrow, and laughed along when people told me ‘welcome to motherhood’. To everyone else, I was a functional mother. I was meeting my child’s basic needs, I was managing to get the food shopping done every week, and hid the clutter in the house well enough to give the illusion that I was keeping on top of things. The laundry was getting done and was even being put away. The photos of our days out were the image of a perfect family, who had their shit together. Nothing could have been farther from the truth.

Beneath the very fragile facade, I was crumbling. My eyes had lost their spark, and my brain was dead. No matter how hard I tried, I was incapable of feeling joy, or appreciation. I was just muddling through each day, fighting to get to the end of it and collapse into bed.

Perhaps one of the most unhealthy habits I had gotten into was comfort eating. I found temporary relief with chocolate, cake, anything sweet. I would eat so much that I would end up in a food coma, only moving enough to care for my daughter. I felt insecure about my weight, my deteriorating mental health and was scared stiff that the old me was well and truly gone.

Next time, I will discuss specific issues around early motherhood that exacerbated my symptoms and what I found helped.

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Cheerio

E x