I often find myself feeling sorry for my children, even though they lead a privileged life. We’ve recently relocated to a house featuring a swimming pool and a playground, and the playroom is overflowing with toys, making it hard to spot the furniture. While I can’t deny that my kids are (probably) a bit spoiled, I know it’s my doing.
I tend to indulge their requests, trying to compensate for what I perceive as my shortcomings as a mother. I realize that material possessions aren’t what truly makes them happy, yet I can’t shake the feeling that they’re missing out because of me.
I live with severe depression and anxiety, alongside an eating disorder. Two years ago, I spent six weeks in the hospital, but thankfully my children were too young to have any lasting memories of that time. I often worry that they might think I abandoned them, or that my absence was easy for me. Is it even possible for mothers to be free of guilt? I know my struggles were ultimately aimed at ensuring they have a healthy and functional mom — and that should be a good thing.
What haunts me are my limitations. I might never fully overcome major depressive disorder or anxiety, but I actively work on coping mechanisms. I feel like I need more breaks than other moms, that I raise my voice more frequently, and that I spend too much time in bed, all while trying to avoid pushing my boundaries. I devote hours each day to considering my mental health, yet depressive episodes can strike suddenly, lasting months or even years. Because of this, I often lean on my partner (more guilt) to help manage our household. Without his support, I might turn to unhealthy coping strategies, like overeating or compulsive shopping — or worse.
Things are certainly better than they used to be, where I was abusing my anxiety medication, crying constantly, and even contemplating suicide. That’s what I need to remind myself of: the significant improvements in my life and how that positively impacts my kids.
I still struggle with a short temper, an overwhelming need for sleep, and occasional social anxiety, but we still create joyful moments together. We have family movie nights, embark on road trips to visit my parents, lounge in pajamas all day, throw dance parties, and swim until our fingers and toes are pruned. While guilt often holds me back from fully enjoying these moments, I hope my children will cherish these memories over the times when I raised my voice out of frustration.
My partner often reminds me that we’re not just raising children; we’re nurturing healthy adults. He’s correct. Ultimately, my kids will learn empathy, compassion, and the importance of self-care through my experiences. I hope they will be comfortable discussing mental health openly and seek help if they notice any signs in themselves. In my view, there’s no age too young to address mental illness.
We must become more open about mental health issues, as they affect over 16 million adults in the U.S. alone. Furthermore, these disorders are the leading cause of disability for individuals aged 15-44, according to the Anxiety and Depression Association of America. The prevalence of anxiety disorders, which impact about 40 million adults, is particularly alarming, and these statistics don’t even account for the mental health issues that have emerged due to the pandemic.
I wish for my children and their peers to challenge the stigma surrounding mental illness and to feel no shame regarding their struggles. However, as adults, we must lead by example. I refuse to apologize for a condition that is largely beyond my control, and neither should you. Depression is a relentless thief that robs you of motivation, joy, and the ability to function. It’s a suffocating darkness that can lead individuals to psychiatric hospitals.
Despite the mom guilt I feel, I believe I’m doing a decent job. At worst, my children may end up in therapy blaming me for their issues, but they’ll understand when they become parents themselves.
I recognize that I don’t need to shower them with gifts or material items to earn their love. What they truly need is to feel safe, nurtured, and loved – and I can provide that, even from a sickbed.
My love transcends depression.
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In summary, navigating motherhood while dealing with depression can be challenging and guilt-inducing. Nevertheless, it’s essential to focus on creating a nurturing environment for children, emphasizing love and empathy over material things. By fostering open conversations about mental health, we can help future generations understand and cope with these issues.