A couple
months ago I had this horrible dream that a man came into my house (in the
middle of the day) pretending to be a workman when really he was there to
attack me. In my dream I was home alone
with just the baby who was sleeping upstairs.
I was in the kitchen when the man all of a sudden burst into the house
talking about a water leak and that he needed to get under the stairs. As he entered the kitchen, I stopped him and
asked for identification. When he
hesitated, I realized what was happening.
I grabbed my phone and dialed 911.
In my dream, however, no one answered.
He moved forward to attack me and then I woke up.
Normally
when I have unpleasant dreams (I dream a lot), I can replay them in my head,
think of a solution and fix the problem.
Then I can go back to sleep. This
time, I couldn’t do that. Every solution
I thought of just caused a worse consequence in my head. I finally woke my husband up because I was
anxious and I couldn’t sleep. At the
time, I just attributed it to the fact that I probably wasn’t getting enough
REM sleep. That was probably partly
true.
The next
day, a friend came over in the morning to babysit my baby (my two older
daughters were in Ottawa with my parents for a visit) so I could go out alone
for an hour or two and have a break. I
had decided the day before that I would take a walk in the conservation area
near our house and collect some twigs for a decorating project I had in mind. As I started down the path, I breathed deep
and took in the peacefulness of the place.
I listened to the birds and crickets chirping and let myself relax. As I walked deeper and deeper into the woods,
I began to realize just how isolated I was.
My dream came back to me. All of
a sudden, standing in the middle of the woods, I panicked. Thoughts were swirling in my head.
What if
someone attacks me here?!
No one will
hear me scream…
There’s
nothing around to defend myself with…
I’m totally
isolated and alone…
I started
walking quickly back to the entrance of the woods. I walked faster and faster until I made it
there. If I had run into anyone, man or
woman, I probably would have started running and screaming. That’s how panicky I was. When I got to the edge of the woods by the
road, I stopped myself. I knew I was
overreacting but I could barely control my breathing. I forced myself to slow my breathing and calm
down. Then I crossed the road to my car. There was a man in the small parking lot,
just getting out of his truck. I
practically ran to my car and jumped in as fast as I could. I knew that reaction was crazy. At the time, though, I couldn’t control
it. I drove into town, hands shaking,
and let myself relax until I was no longer panicking. Then I went into a thrift store and did a bit
of browsing to get my mind off things.
A few weeks
later, I was home with my youngest two (my oldest was at day camp). The baby was sleeping and I went to put my
two year old down for her nap. When I
came back down the stairs, our back patio door was wide open. In my head I knew that my two year old had
just opened it and I hadn’t noticed (she has a habit of leaving it wide open
when she goes to play in the backyard).
However, my heart felt otherwise.
My dream came back to me again. I
was worried that there was someone in the house.
My plan had
been to go to the basement to do a load of laundry while the girls were
napping. Now I was scared to go
downstairs. I called my husband at work
so he could talk me out of my paranoia.
It didn’t work. I called him back
and made him stay on the phone while I slowly went downstairs. I checked every nook and cranny of the
basement while he was on the phone.
Again, I knew that was crazy behavior but I couldn’t act otherwise. I needed to check. I threw in the laundry and went
upstairs. After I got off the phone, I
checked the rest of the house. I looked
in closets and behind doors until I was convinced there was no one in our
house. It honestly bothered me all afternoon and
evening. I just couldn’t shake the
feeling.
I think
it’s pretty normal for mothers (and fathers), especially new ones, to feel a
bit panicky or anxious from time to time.
If you’ve ever brought your newborn into bed with you on a difficult
night, then you probably know the feeling of waking up in a panic because you
think your baby fell out of the bed or you rolled on him or her, only to
realize that your baby is sleeping safely in the bassinet or crib. Or we see a potentially dangerous situation
for our toddler and have a panicked flash of the worst-case scenario. A ‘what if my child let go of my hand, ran
across the road and got hit by a car’ kind of feeling. They don’t last. They don’t linger. We don’t act on them.
It’s when
the feelings linger that we need to realize there may be a problem. When anxious thoughts cause us to look in
closets and behind doors, and after that, the feelings remain. When they stop us from doing what we would
normally do or when they cause us to do something we normally wouldn’t.
Looking
back, this was a definite sign of Postpartum Depression. It was a sign that things weren’t quite
right. Anger, anxiety, panic, paranoia –
definite symptoms of PPD.
Today I’m
sitting on our front porch while my daughter rides her bicycle up and down the
street. She’s doing great. A few minutes ago a neighbor had to go out. My daughter heard the car start so she pulled
over, got off her bicycle and stood on the grass until the car passed by and
left our street. She knows the safety
rules. I’m not anxious. I’m not worried. I didn’t panic. I wonder, though, if I would have felt the
same two weeks ago.
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