I know most mom blogs talk about post-patrum depression, but this is not like most mom blogs, at least not in that sense. Depression for me came long before I became a mom, I know that may be hard to believe since I was a teen mom, but it’s true. I was 16 years old when I was initially diagnosed with depression. Now, if you know anything about Hispanic culture, you know mental health is a huge taboo. 

From the moment I was diagnosed all my Tias (aunts) would say was, you guessed it, it was all in my head. Now I think, well duh! That is what a mental illness is, it’s in my head. I was fully discouraged to not taking medication for my depression, instead, I was told to eat well, exercise, and think differently, as if it was like baking a cake.

I continued to follow the advice of my Tias for more than 15 years, even after I had a few episodes of extreme depression, I still did not want to take medication. By that point, I had bought into the idea that I could pull myself out of depression on my own. I was convinced there were other ways to fight depression. This is not to say that eating well and exercising does not help depression, I can attest to the fact that it does wonders, but in my case, it did not truly help. All I was doing was masking it, and as obstacles and problems arose in life like it tends to happen, my depression got worse.  

Fast forward to me in my thirties, a couple of failed relationships, and now a single mom of three boys. After a few life-changing events, depression hit me like a ton of bricks, there was no amount of sun, vegetables, or exercise that would get me out of bed. I struggled with guilt because I still wanted to be a good mom, I had to do something to be a better parent, especially because I am the only active parent my sons have. But this was for me, as much as I love my children, the decision to finally seek medical attention for my depression was for me, a choice that my children would ultimately benefit from as well.

I’m not here to give you a list of to-dos or a magic recipe to help you with depression. I wish that was the case. It’s only been a few months since I finally started taking medication, after putting it off for so many years. I won’t lie and say I feel fantastic, overwhelmed with joy and bouncing off the walls from happiness, because I am not. Seeking medical professionals has made a huge difference, but this is the type of thing that at the risk of a cliché, you have to take it day by day. 

The love I have for my children and the knowing that my boys deserve the absolute best version of me helps, but the memory of the peace and joy I felt before depression took over me is what fuels me. I have learned to accept this throughout the years. Learning to love my kids, but not live for them was a very difficult lesson. This helps me keep in mind that these moments with my boys are fleeing, and I want to soak them all up. So, as much as I want to stay in bed, not eat, not shower, and sometimes just cry all day, I get up and try. That is all we can really do, give it your version of your best, one day at a time.

Are you a mama with depression? What has been your biggest struggle? Comment below or contact me directly, I would love to hear from you, be a crying shoulder, or be your cheerleader if you need me to be.

XO,

Diana