Traci Jaime married her high school sweetheart and currently stays at home, to care for their two young children, in the Great Lakes Bay Region. She is an aspiring children’s book author, who writes her own blog www.adayinmommyhood.blogspot.com, about her experiences as a mother. She is an avid crafter and has recently created a new blog, www.tracicreatesit.wordpress.com, where she will share craft and party ideas.
Here is a bit of background: Happiness has always been a struggle for me. Since, the day I was born, I have been extra sensitive and overly emotional. When, I was about 17 years old, it really began to affect my life. The pressure to be thin and attractive overwhelmed me, and I developed a very serious eating disorder. By the time I graduated high school, I had gotten it under control, with the help of my family and friends.
My first year of college was amazing. Then slowly during my second year, my issues began to creep back into my life. I was homesick and became extremely depressed. I eventually moved home, and with the support of my parents, I sought help from my doctor and was put on medication. After a few months, I felt better and ultimately went off the meds, and resumed my life.
The next few years, were full of ups and downs. For the most part though, I felt like I had a handle on everything. Soon after I married my husband, I became pregnant with my first child. I convinced myself, that after she was born, I would be fine. I had heard so much about the “baby blues” but I was confident that I would be all right. Being a mother was all I ever really wanted to be. It was my dream and I believed very strongly, that it would come naturally to me.
Mothering, for the most part, did come easily to me. What I was not expecting, was the way I felt. I was in denial, I’m sure. I became a bit of a recluse, never wanting to leave the house. I became great at making excuses, or at least I thought that I was. I felt sad but didn’t think I had a valid reason to feel that way. I would cry or feel angry for no reason at all. Every time someone asked me what was “wrong”, I wanted to scream because I didn’t know. I pushed friends away and could hardly bare to let myself have fun. I loved my family but hated myself.
When my daughter was just over a year old, I became pregnant with our second child. During my pregnancy with him, I began to have very serious panic attacks. One day, I was trying to decide what to make my daughter for lunch, and I had to sit down because I was so overwhelmed. My heart was racing. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was scared, not for myself, but for my unborn baby. This situation turned out to be my blessing in disguise. I loved my baby, more than I loved myself, and this forced me to do something about my problems. I immediately made a doctor’s appointment, and was put on a very low dose of medicine.
After my second child was born, I continued to take the medicine. The only problem was that I was still ashamed to need it to feel “normal”. I didn’t want people to think that I was crazy. I would stop the meds for awhile, because I always felt like I was “better” and didn’t need it anymore. Every time I stopped, it wasn’t long before it became clear that I still in fact needed it.
Since, then I have worked with my doctor to find the right dose and the right medication for me. I have dealt with the shame, through my writing, and talking to other people with similar experiences. I am still an extra sensitive and emotional person but day to day life is much easier. I have come to terms, with the fact, that I need medication to be healthy. It will always be part of my life.
I decided to share my story with all of you because I was lucky enough to have people in my life who understood, but I realize that not everyone does. No statistics, no medical terminology, just my journey and the hope that it could possibly help someone else who is currently suffering.