Car Free in Raleigh

Sorry to go MIA on you for a while there. I’ve been struggling with postpartum depression since Malachy was born, 16 months ago, and although I had been doing very well for a good while, going car-free has pushed me on a bit of a downward spiral.

See, the thing is, you just forget how frequently that you can drive over to a friend’s house or out to a playgroup when you own a car. When you’re feeling low, it’s easy to get out for the afternoon.

When you’re car-free, unless you have a bike, you’re a bit more limited. I can take the bus to get to several places, but the reality of riding the bus in Raleigh with a toddler is less appealing than staying home. If Mark is home, I am glad to get out, because then we can bounce back and forth between who is keeping an eye on our little one. But alone, with a very spirited little toddler, it’s more of a challenge.

So, I’ve been mostly staying in my pajamas, ignoring my toddler, surfing the ‘Net, reading books, eating frozen foods, and watching my house turn into a disgusting mess. And little by little, the darkness creeps in. I find myself struggling to get out of bed. The littlest things seem to require monumental effort. I can’t muster up any inertia to get anything done. My toddler begins to cry more, because he knows when I am feeling low. I can’t talk myself into going for a simple walk outside. And the cycle perpetuates.

My friend Mandy has been a great help; today, she offered to come over and bring her toddler to play with mine, and then help me get the house clean. And little by little, I’ve been opening up more about what it really feels like to struggle with postpartum depression. The way that after my son was born, I felt like the mama cat who is disinterested in her little kittens and just wants to sleep, for the love of God, please!

But the thing is, in our society, we don’t talk about things like depression. Especially maternal depression. It’s hard not to feel like there is something flawed within you, some great moral failing, when you have days where you struggle just to take a shower. To make something for breakfast. To play with your child.

And that’s where the isolation comes in. Before, when those feelings began to bubble up to the surface again, I would go out. I’d spend time with friends. I’d go to the mall and let Malachy play in the playground and just chill.

Now, going out requires more planning than I’m often able to muster when the depression has crept in too quickly.  Although I am currently taking a low dose of Zoloft, which helps immensely, if I’m not careful, I can spiral downward again. Especially if I miss a dose or two. Or don’t get my prescription refilled before it runs out. Or get stuck at home for two weeks when we are all sick with a cold.

I was talking to a friend this morning, and she offered up an extra kid seat she has in her shed, for the back of a bike. I don’t have a bike yet, and we’d been planning to wait until spring to buy one. But I think I will get one ASAP, because we’d have a lot more freedom to visit friends (with far less dependency on the bus) if we had one. Or just ride downtown or other places to play.

And when Malachy recovers from his bout with RSV, I need to start planning a weekly playgroup at my house, to keep myself on a cleaning routine. I feel much better when the house is orderly, and when it’s messy for a few days, I spiral downward that much faster.