My beautiful daughter is two weeks old today, and I'm feeling suicidal.

Its been two weeks and sometimes it feels like its been forever and other times it feels like its gone by quicker than a day.

Today? I'm feeling suicidal.
Really suicidal.
So much so I broke down into tears and contemplated slitting my wrists. Luckily (?) for me I'm also too much of a coward, I don't think I can cut deep enough. I don't think I could handle the pain (hilarious considering everything I've bee through pain wise in the past 19 months). So it aint going to happen. Besides the fact I love Simon and my babies too much, oh my gosh I love them all so much, the thought that Simon couldn't possibly afford a funeral for me has passed through my mind a few times. Har har.

That, and as I will go on to explain, my brain is still switched on to tell me that its NOT ok to let myself feel this way or at least continue feeling this way. So I'm writing it all down. To note. To remember.

Publicly, I'm sharing this because no one ever talks about this stuff. They say its ok to do so, you know... on the adverts on tv and various posters for support groups and what not. But really its not ok to talk about. You feel like if you do people will always look at you different. Everyone assumes the worst, assumes you are a powder keg about to blow almost always. Assumes its full on depression or PPD. And if you walk into somewhere and you are happy and showing it, people automatically assume its fake. Or like in the past, when I've tried to share my feelings people (people who probably read this even) assume I'm just looking for attention and mentally note that yes, yes indeed I am the fuck up they always thought I was and make that clear to me. Or they get angry at you for not saying anything sooner. Its no win sometimes.

I've suffered from mental illness in the past. I spent 10 years of my short 27 years clinically depressed. 9 of those years I was too scared or too deep within it to do anything about it. I know how it is. I'm not ashamed of it and I also know I'm not at that stage again.

Do I think its PPD? No... I don't. Not yet anyway. This is a one off so far. Maybe if I let it fester and I don't keep talking about it, it may turn out that way though.

So why am I feeling this way today?
Simple. I'm me and I'm tired. No...scratch that, I'm exhausted. Im also hideously starving.

I'm a new mum again. I have a newborn in the house again.

I have this obvious [and not to mention, hypocritical] guilt about formula feeding. Again. I feel shit about my body (even though I'm already a kg or so past my Evie Pre Preggo Weight). Again. I feel like I'm not doing enough. Always. I feel like I have 101 things I should do and achieve today, tomorrow and before I go back to a job which I feel I suck at now, and I'm not getting any of them done. And even when I tick of something on the list I'm too down on myself to be pleased about it. I don't cut myself any slack. I push myself too hard. I expect greatness when I can't possibly achieve it. My poor partner gets so frustrated and asks why I won't let him help me with everything. Why? Because I exhaust myself in an effort to make myself feel needed, wanted and loved. Its my own little hangup.

In other words, I'm a woman, and a new mama. And a perfectionist one at that.

I'm pushing myself, well and truly, too hard. And the rational part of my brain, it knows this. I need to cut myself some serious slack and stop waiting for people to give me permission to do it.

Its why I'm writing it down and sharing it. Maybe if you are a new mum and you are feeling this way you can sit back, breathe and think... ok. Talk. Reach out and get help. Get through it. It might be a once off, it might not be. Either way its ok, its not the end of the world and you don't have to feel ashamed about it.

Comments have been disabled for this post. Please don't email me, tweet me, fb me, call or text me about it asking me if I'm ok. Its not an attention seeking exercise, and truly I am ok. We are ok. 99.5% of the time I'm actually happy and doing fairly great considering everything going on.
In an hour things will be different, tomorrow things will be different. Infact, by the time dinner rolls around, the kids have napped and possibly me too, I will be myself again.

And I'm going to keep talking, and if I feel I need it, get help. Because its nothing to be ashamed of.