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Some mothers suffer from postpartum depression, and it can be frightening. But it is something that nobody wants to talk about!
For starters, I had not wanted to write about this topic. Writing about it would mean ripping my heart open, exposing my deepest fears out to the world. Yet, I decided it was time to talk about it when another woman decided to kill herself instead of simply talking about it.
Allison Goldstein, a 32-year-old teacher who was a new mother to a 4-month old baby girl. She had everything going for her; she was beautiful, talented and a great human being. One day, out of the blue, she decided to kill herself. Nobody saw it coming, but it is said that she was a victim of PPD – postpartum depression.
When I discussed it with my mom, she blinked – what had depression got to do with being a mother? For someone who has had an easy motherhood, it was hard to grasp the concept of PPD being very real. Though it is being widely discussed in the US as being a real disease, India is yet to accept its existence.
Since ages, it is assumed that because an Indian mother is always helped to care for her newborn, the chances of her slipping into postpartum depression are slim to none. The Indian culture of having family for support at this crucial time, is by far the most grateful gift a woman can ask for.
Yet, there are cases where new moms are going through PPD silently, and most of us push through the pain. Nobody talks about it for fear of being judged, for fear of being guilty, for fear of being a bad mom, for fear of feeling inadequate. We don’t want to admit that there are times when we simply want to walk away from everything only to get our minds clear. I have had a few moms discuss with me about how depressing their lives are and how scary it is to admit to oneself the truth of living a monotonous life.
There have been times when I have been terribly scared to care for this little human being, there have been times when I have simply wanted to curl into a ball and hide, there have been times when I have simply wanted to talk about my fears to someone. In fact, I have wrestled with feelings of hopelessness on a number of days. However, thanks to a wonderful husband, supportive family and darling friends, I have never been an emotional wreck.
Do these feelings make us bad moms? No, they don’t. The fact that we are being judged from day one of our motherhood, tells that we are already under lot of pressure as we strive to be the perfect parent.
Sadly, life isn’t a series of smiling photographs that we post on social media. Life, is much more than that.
Sometimes, a mom just needs help. There is simply nothing wrong in asking for help. It doesn’t make her a weaker person if she asks for help. It isn’t a sign of weakness to talk about fears.
But for long, we have been told not to confess our feelings, because it is assumed that motherhood should be a wonderful phase which has to be celebrated by all means. Though it is the most beautiful phase for a woman to live in, there are these bouts of depression that sometimes loom over moms. If you have been lucky to get help, it is the greatest gift a mother can hope for.
If you or anybody else is going through a tough time, please reach out for help. Be aware that you are a strong mom, always wishing the best for her child. It is a mark of strength to ask for help.
If you or anyone you know is feeling suicidal, here are some of the helplines available in India. Please call.
Aasra, Mumbai: 022-27546669
Sneha, Chennai: 044-2464 0050
Lifeline, Kolkata: 033-2474 4704
Sahai, Bangalore: 080–25497777
Roshni, Hyderabad: 040-66202000, 040-66202001
Published here earlier.
Image source: shutterstock
Being a compulsive reader with a passion for writing, Chital Mehta believes that life is a gift that has to be cherished every minute. She is passionate about love stories for she believes love is read more...
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As parents, we put a piece of our hearts out into this world and into the custody of the teachers at school and tuition and can only hope and pray that they treat them well.
Trigger Warning: This speaks of physical and emotional violence by teachers, caste based abuse, and contains some graphic details, and may be triggering for survivors.
When I was in Grade 10, I flunked my first preliminary examination in Mathematics. My mother was in a panic. An aunt recommended the Maths classes conducted by the Maths sir she knew personally. It was a much sought-after class, one of those classes that you signed up for when you were in the ninth grade itself back then, all those decades ago. My aunt kindly requested him to take me on in the middle of the term, despite my marks in the subject, and he did so as a favour.
Math had always been a nightmare. In retrospect, I wonder why I was always so terrified of math. I’ve concluded it is because I am a head in the cloud person and the rigor of the step by step process in math made me lose track of what needed to be done before I was halfway through. In today’s world, I would have most probably been diagnosed as attention deficit. Back then we had no such definitions, no such categorisations. Back then we were just bright sparks or dim.
Pathaan touted as SRK’s comeback has been in the news for mixed reasons. Right from the hype around SRK’s comeback and special mentions his body contours; yet I can't watch it!
The movie touted as SRK’s comeback has been in the news for mixed reasons. Right from the hype around the movie being SRK’s comeback and special mentions his body contours and even more than the female lead!
For me, it’s not about Deepika’s bikini colour or was-it-needed skin show. It’s about meaningful content that I find is missing big time. Not just this movie, but a spate of cringe-worthy narratives passed off as ‘movies’ in the recent past. I feel insulted, and not because I am a devoutly religious person or a hardcore feminist, but because I feel the content insults my intelligence.
But before everything else, I am a 90s kid who in the case of movies (and maybe more) is stuck in time as it wrapped around me then and the gamut has too hard an exterior for me to crack it open!
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