Thoughts of Postpartum Psychosis and Church

Preface: I am a Mormon and I had postpartum psychosis

I prayed for God to put me in a coma. I prayed for him to just let me die. And then there were times that I couldn't pray or read my scriptures at all. I definitely could not feel the spirit. I felt nothing. I didn't understand how everyone around me could be so happy and normal while I felt darkness and hopeless. 

The thought of going to church (or anywhere) was torture. I was afraid of being judged. I was afraid of not looking like the perfect, cute, little mormon family that had it all together. I was afraid of what people would think when they saw my husband taking care of the kids and my husband being the one feeding the baby in the hallway while I sat lifeless, trying to make myself invisible. I feared talking to people because I knew I would start crying for no reason or be super socially awkward because I was so consumed with  my anxiety. I feared that everybody in the room would be staring at me and judging me.

But I went to church anyways. I certainly had a good excuse not to go, but I needed to go. I needed to overcome my fears and have some kind of spiritual light in my life. I remember forcing myself to go to church for the first time after my first episode of postpartum psychosis and one of the talks during sacrament meeting was about postpartum depression. I remember the lady giving the talk said, over the pulpit mind you, that she had wished that she could die. She said that she had wished that everybody could die. I remember being shocked that she had just said that, who says that at all, let alone to a whole congregation. Then I remember thinking that I was not alone and that there was hope of me getting better. It also made me think that there were lots of women who felt the way I did. And that it was okay to talk about it. This lady had no idea I was suffering, but there she was talking about her struggle with postpartum depression and breaking the stigma that I had thought there was.

While going to church and struggling with my postpartum psychosis I learned that all my fears were unnecessary. Nobody judged me. Nobody cared if my husband was doing all the work. Nobody thought I was crazy for crying for no reason while talking to them. Nobody thought or cared that I was socially awkward. All eyes were not on me.

I made it a point to tell people that I did talk to that I was struggling with postpartum psychosis/health issues. And to be honest most people had no idea. When you break an arm you get a cast and everyone knows you've been hurt and are healing. With mental health there is no cast. But I needed people to know that I'd been hurt so I didn't feel as vulnerable or as hopeless as I felt. I needed people to understand and to care, and you know what, they did. The entire time I was going through postpartum psychosis and with all of my sharing, I have received nothing but love and support. Not one single rude or judge mental comment. I have been truly amazed.

I think one of the best ways we can love one another is through empathy. I wanted to raise awareness for mental health while I was a victim of it. And one of the best ways I have healed from my mental health issues is by sharing my story and by reading and connecting with others who have similar stories.

I watched this again today and I'm so glad I did. Love this talk and Elder Holland.

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng