In 2014, a snapshot of me and my son found its way into the elementary school yearbook. In the photo, he’s at a book fair, sporting a striped t-shirt and a beaming grin that reveals his missing tooth. His eyes sparkle with mischief, suggesting he scored both chapter books and a cat poster from me. He looks adorable.
I, however, do not appear charming at all. I barely resemble myself; my smile is forced and stretched, and I’m hunched behind my son, seemingly trying to stay out of sight. The most alarming aspect of my appearance is my eyes—void of any light or emotion, resembling lifeless black marbles.
Just thinking about that image makes me feel nauseous and overwhelmingly sad. It transports me back to a period of profound pain that feels almost unbearable. I have to remind myself that those days are long gone; I know the steps I need to take to maintain my well-being now. Back then, however, I made the regrettable choice to stop my antidepressants following a friend’s misguided encouragement—an experience I will never forget.
My descent into clinical depression began in January, just as my boys were starting the second half of their school year. My eldest was firmly entrenched in fifth grade, while my youngest was a solid second grader. Before I knew it, I became a mother who could barely hold it together.
One of the most prominent symptoms I faced was psychomotor retardation. Defined by the National Center for Biotechnology Information (NCBI) as “slowed speech, decreased movement, and impaired cognitive function,” this eight-word description hardly captures the depth of my experience.
When people think of “decreased movement” in relation to major depression, they often revert to the cliché of being unable to get out of bed. While that is certainly a challenge when you need to usher your kids off to school, my movement issues extended far beyond that. My walk became rigid and mechanical, as if I were constructed from iron and bolts. At times, I would become “stuck,” unable to take another step, as if my feet were cemented to the ground. This could last for just a few seconds or what felt like an eternity. When the school bell rang and we were still blocks away, I had to tell the boys to run ahead while I trudged home in exhaustion.
Cognitive impairment is another term that seems abstract, but for me, it manifested as severe memory and concentration issues. Helping my oldest with his homework was not a concern—he was naturally organized. However, assisting my younger son was a monumental challenge. I never thought I would struggle to help him write a simple paragraph about puffins, struggling to recall even basic words like “flight.” Math became a confusing jumble of numbers; it was better if I let him tackle it alone.
“Slowed speech” sounds straightforward, yet it was just one aspect of my verbal difficulties. My sons grew accustomed to my speech quirks, but parent-teacher conferences were pure agony. I stumbled over words, struggled to find the right phrases, and tried to maintain a brave face while internally counting down the minutes until I could leave. I recall a time when I was still teaching, overhearing colleagues discuss a student being homeschooled due to depression. They wondered how a child could miss school simply because she was “sad.” The reality is that most people don’t grasp the complexity of clinical depression; they think they understand, but they truly don’t.
If I had simply felt “sad” during those years, it would have been a relief. My experience encompassed despair, guilt, physical pain, insomnia, and a profound sense of hopelessness—certainly not the ideal ingredients for motherhood.
When I ask my children about those years, they say I spent a lot of time on the couch. Yet their memories are filled with stories about friends, teachers, and school events—things that I missed because I was trapped in my own dark world. Thankfully, both boys have grown into thriving young men, experiencing the joy and richness of school life that I could not fully share.
To read more about the challenges of motherhood and mental health, check out this insightful blog post. For more resources on newborn photography, check out this authority site. If you’re looking for support related to pregnancy and home insemination, this is an excellent resource.
Summary
This article reflects on the experience of a mother facing clinical depression while raising young children. It discusses the physical and cognitive symptoms of depression, the challenges of parenting during difficult times, and the contrasting memories between a mother and her children. Ultimately, it highlights the resilience of both the mother and her sons as they navigate their lives beyond the shadow of mental illness.
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Keywords: clinical depression, motherhood, mental health, parenting, psychomotor retardation, cognitive impairment, support resources.