Reaching out for help...

You may have guessed, I'm not the type of person that asks for help. I generally struggle through until I can find a solution myself. I figure its my problem, I should be able to solve it. I guess that was OK when it was just me as I was the only one hurting, but now I have a family and they are being hurt because of me and that's not fair. So I go and see my GP and tell him that I'm not coping and feel like I just want to walk away from my life and that I have had thoughts of suicide, but nothing really concrete, just a fleeting thought that my life would be so much easier if I wasn't in it. This starts a ball rolling and a week or so after my GP visit, I have a social worker come to my house to assess me for depression. I am asked a heap of questions and she watches me interact with my son for a couple of hours. From our discussions, I don't think she thinks I have depression, but that I am quite overwhelmed with everything going on at the moment and she suggests that I get some help with my son and his separation anxiety, which I agree to do. She will write a recommendation to this effect.

A few weeks later I have an appointment to see a clinical psych for me and my son. I am now about 3 or 4 months pregnant or somewhere around there. I'm generally looking forward to talking to someone about my son and how to handle his behaviour and get some advice. After talking to the clinical psych, I didn't really feel like I had any answers. We talked about what was happening in my life at the time and the difficulties I was facing with my son, but I was not provided with any specific help per se about how to handle his behaviour right now. I felt a little deflated, but agreed to continue the sessions on a weekly basis. The psych said that I would work out the best way to deal with my son and we could discuss this at our weekly sessions. I figured I had no-where else to go at the time, so I may as well stick with it.

I also knew that I had to find some help for myself, because I could feel myself sinking. My moods were starting to get out of control and my relationship with my husband was becoming quite strained. I decided to seek help by seeing a counsellor, at this stage I was about 7 months pregnant, so I started a 12 week program where I spoke with a counsellor once a week. We worked on cognitive behaviour to help me deal with my external environment. I was struggling big time living in our new house and in the new area, which I hated on a daily basis and lashed out at my family as my way of coping, which I knew was not healthy for any of us. I found that the counselling helped as it opened my eyes up to a new way of looking at things, but I still found myself struggling when I came back to my reality, my house, my life and my misery.

I decided to try hypnotherapy as this had worked for me in the past, so I figured it might help this time around as my counsellor and clinical psych were a little concerned for how I was going to look after a newborn in a few months in my current state, which wasn't great. I was still in denial and figured I would handle things when they came along. I was also still in fantasy land and dreamed of holding my newborn and nursing and rocking them and then watching them sleep, yadda yadda yadda. I wasn't thinking of the reality side of things, no sleep, constant screaming, juggling two kids, etc.. etc... I was still in la la land. I was about 8 months pregnant when I started hypnotherapy sessions. So I was now seeing a counsellor, clinical psych and a hypno guy on a regular basis. My weeks were very busy, but it helped past the time, knowing I had somewhere to go and something to do. It helped take my mind off my miserable life (as I knew it) and get me out of the house I hated.