Tag: postpartum depression

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My First Thai fight and First loss

I have to be honest with myself and everyone. I did not want to compete in my most recent fight. I have not wanted to do much since, well, 9 months?

Call it postponed postpartum depression, hormone changes, or whatever. But I just am not me since having Klaus. Some days I am okay. And even when I am at the gym I can be mostly okay. But something just has not been right in my brain for a long time.

Which leads me to fighting. Fighting is and always has been my jam. Since the ripe age of 13. Give me any martial art and I will excel, fast. I am just naturally talented and have always been good at any of the arts. I know this, and yet, everyday at the gym I tell myself I am worthless trash. Sounds harsh and ridiculous, I know. Trust and believe, I know. I swear I have arguments with this voice in my head sometimes. Good versus bad. Darkness versus the light.  And this is not just secluded to me and martial arts. I am this way with my businesses, being a mom, anything. I always have a terrible little voice inside trying to make me quit, give up. I just never do. I have will power from the Gods, truly.

But that doesn’t mean its any less taxing on my mental state. I strive for an unattainable perfection in all aspects. So when I need to sacrifice part of me to achieve some other goal. I fall apart.

For instance:

My fights since having Klaus came at a time when both me and Keegan left our safe, full time jobs, to follow our hearts and start businesses. Literally after having a baby. Crazy? Yes. Fun? maybe?….

So I tried to put my heart into being a new mom, a new business owner, a fighter, and MANY other side projects.

I have been stretching myself and Keegan so thin we started to dislike each other. We never fought until the last year. And now between parenting, both businesses, him being my fighting coach, and me helping him reach fight goals, we just couldn’t hang.

So now that you get the mental picture, all this going on behind the hazel eyes and smiling face. Some of you can see what was going on, and to that I thank you for silently helping me and always being there.  Ya’ll rock.

This fight was just off. I mentally checked out of existing months ago. I just needed help and thought that if I made others happy, then I would be happy and find myself again. So I pushed and took a fight without passion. Now don’t get me wrong, I LOVE fighting. And it has been my dream to take a Thai fight. I just wish I waited until I was mentally there and not on a downward spiral into what could be another remake of the movie SuckerPunch.

I pushed, and trained hard. I dieted. I ran miles. I did all the hard work for a fight, physically. I really did. Fuck do I hate running. But I did it all. If I couldn’t be here mentally, I would be here physically. I was never nervous until the hours leading to my fight backstage. I just didn’t want to be there. I have never been afraid of pain. I never will. I welcome it. But the anxiety, stress and depression of “doing all the things” was worse than giving birth.

Fight day came and  I had a million work emails, people looking for me and relying on me for their weddings, events, businesses etc. I just wanted to leave. I felt guilty. And the moment I realized I didn’t give a crap about this fight, all I cared about is emailing clients after, and the events I have coming up, and all the stuff  that has been weighing me down, is when I knew I wasn’t going to win. I may be a really good and technical fighter, but none of that was showcased. And I knew it before I walked in.

Shit happens and life goes on. And I am not sorry I lost. I learned. I am a better fighter, and anyone knows that if they know me. But they might not know what demons I have going on. And that I was not handling them well.

I am learning to figure that all out as we go.

For now I need to prioritize my business and making money. I have house buying goals, weddings to plan, fighters to help, and shit to do. I will be back in there at some point when I am not silently screaming and floundering around like a entrepreneur fish out of too-much-shit-going on- water.

So now I feel a weight lifted. I don’t have the pressure to fight. I can finally enjoy it again. That is something I missed.

See you on the mats bitches.

 

p.s. Don’t treat an amateur Thai fight like an MMA fight. You lose a lot of points

 

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8 months and it’s a whole new world

8 months post partum here
I have been having a wonderful time being a mom until now. I was starting to make weight lifting progress, mma progress with a fight in sight for winter… Then I break my thumb. And then the kicker that I didn’t see coming. I hit some post partum depression. Finally. See I was waiting for it to happen. I struggled most of my life with depression, and I was waiting for it to happen. I guess it was delayed until now, which makes sense hormone wise (I am stopping breast feeding) it only makes sense my hormones are all messed up.
But I am just sad. Sad that I am not fighting. Sad I am not strong as I once was. Sad I can’t make it through more than 30 mins of a training session without the babe crying or needing something. Jealous that I cant do the things I love while I watch others progress. Jealous that I cant bring my amazing cat bagheera everywhere,like we used to, but we see everyone else getting to bring their pets with them.  Anxious about every little horrible thing that could go wrong in my child’s life. (No seriously my brain is like the movie Final Destination and the show 1000 ways to Die) I feel like everyone thinks I am a bad fighter. Or a bad mom. Or a bad athlete. Or a bad business owner. I just want to be the bad ass person I used to love. With athletic goals, and career goals. I am just a shell. I wish I didn’t feel this way…
Although, I am grateful to have my amazing son. He truly is the best. And it kills me to be so upset. Forever mom guilt.
At around 6 months postpartum I started to feel off. At the time I didn’t quite understand what it was, but then is made sense.  Anxiety. The kind where you don’t sleep for days, you don’t want to eat any more you worry about every single little thing on the planet. Things that never really made sense you’re not even sure why they matter for some reason they do. Then it was the Jealousy. Not typical jealousy, no. Jealous of RANDOM dumb shit. Jealous my cats are happier than me. Jealous Of people bike riding in peace. Yet I HATE bike riding. Eff that. But still jealous. I am still kind of spiraling here. Trying to bring back my former self one day at a time. Kids man..
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Two months, more ranting

2 months old now…
He is the best thing to happen to me. And it took me this long to feel that way.
Everyone says that as soon as your baby is born, the world changes and you have this rush of emotion of love that you never felt before. And yes there was a rush of emotion for me, and yes there was love from me, but it wasn’t until this to moment, that I really realized how Klaus was the best thing that ever happened to me.
I have felt constant guilt for not being so emotional and “loving” to him or Keegan. I kept waiting for this rush of emotion all moms talk about. You know, when you just give birth and you hold your child the first time, and you are perfectly in love.That was not me. I hoped and waited for that to be me. But it was not. Not until now, 2 months later. And now it is unlike ANYTHING you could ever feel.
When I first gave birth I was basically hallucinating from not sleep for 38 hours. And then there was this alien in my hands. That I thought looked super weird and just was unlike anything I had been around really. (Not a baby person, sorry)
But I loved him, I knew he was mine, although I never knew his face all those 9 months. But somehow while pregnant, I never tried to envision what he might look like, or what this moment would be like. I was unprepared to say the least. Then all of a sudden your world is totally unfamiliar and everything you know is wrong and different and you never sleep, and all of your passions and interests are gone. And everything is alone. At least temporarily. And that is only how I felt.
But that diminishes and I finally started to see myself in Klaus, and that was when I started to feel closer. And then one day t 2 months old, my cat knocks down a plate onto his tiny head. We end up in ER (he was totally fine). I cried FAR more than he did. And the Dr couldn’t even understand me, they thought I was dying. But in that moment when he needed me and looked to me, and also wasn’t such a little crybaby bitch, I knew he was perfect. And my son. And the best thing ever, I WILL FIGHT YOU.
Okay… so long story short. Don’t feel guilty for not being the mother you are “expected” to be. Motherhood will never be like what you thought and that is okay. Roll with the punches.