Walk around Green Lake

On the way back from dropping off my son, I drove past Green Lake park on the south side. I was immediately reminded of the day I went for a walk around the lake with my PEPS group.

My son was about 6 months old and I was in the worst days of my then-untreated post-partum depression. PEPS is a program that matches groups of new moms to hang out once a week and talk about being a new mom. At that time we had known each other for about 4 months. We started walking around the lake with our babies in strollers or baby carriers. Walking around the lake takes about an hour and we had parked near one of the mom’s house, which was about 15 more minutes of walking.

About half way around the lake, my baby started to cry out of hunger. I don’t remember if at that time I was breastfeeding and bottle feeding or only bottle feeding. (I stopped breastfeeding some time around the 6-month mark.) But whatever it was, it was not as easy as getting a breast out and putting it to baby’s mouth, as some other moms had done. It usually took me 20-30 minutes to feed my 6-month old baby. I stopped and wondered what I should do. The other moms were on a roll, speedwalking with their fancy strollers, chitchatting all the way. (One of them had come from running around the lake with her baby and her dog before joining us for a walk around the lake!!!) They uncommittedly offered to wait for me, but I knew it would be a while, so I waived them off and said that I would catch up. They looked relieved and continued walking. I sat on a bench and embarked on the process of making a bottle, then feeding my crying baby. It took a while. I then packed up and started to walk. I guess I had not realized at that time how long it would take to walk around the lake. My baby’s stroller was not great for walking. It was the cheapest one we had bought with tiny wheels and an uncomfortable handle.

I walked and walked and walked. It was awful. I felt miserable and alone. I felt like crying the whole time. And my baby was upset and crying intermittently the whole way. I felt very sad and lonely, but also angry about feeling sad and lonely. Why was I the only person who felt that way? Why was I not like the rest of them? Why did my being feel so heavy, almost like I had to drag myself around, and theirs so light and airy, like they were walking on the clouds? Why was I so weak and they were so strong?

I finally got to my car. Everyone was gone of course. I strapped my baby in his car seat and drove home in tears. I remember every moment of that day and that drive home vividly, almost 6 years later. I just wanted to give up, to stop, to sleep, to never have to do anything again. I handed my baby to my sister and my mom who were visiting. They asked me how it went and I just said terrible. I locked myself in my room and cried and slept. This was a luxury for me that I had someone to care for my baby for an hour or two.

Today I drove past the same park and the same crosswalk that I had walked on on the way back to my car 6 years ago. And the memory came to me like it was yesterday. And all the feelings with it, with full force. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. Every time I pass anywhere close to that area, this happens. I feel an ache in my heart. It is pain that has not been processed and has not healed. That is why I started writing this blog. This is for me and only for me, to pull it out of my mind, my heart, and my soul, and record it here, so I don’t have to carry it everywhere, all the time. That day is now forever recorded and I can come here and read about it if I need to. But maybe, slowly, I won’t have to feel its pain every time I drive past that area or walk around Green Lake.

I love you, me, at that time. I see you and feel your pain. I have compassion for you and your loneliness. Things will get better, even if you don’t see it yet. I promise you. We are ok now. We are ok. We survived it. We are still here. Love!

The Anxious Introvert