Tag: postpartum depression

"on the road to healing"

July 26th – 7 Years of Slow and Steady Healing

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I almost forgot that today is July 26th – today used to be a day I dreaded, the anniversary of when I was admitted to the hospital for postpartum depression. I didn’t even register that today was a significant anniversary until I saw a Facebook memories post from 2 years ago when a friend had sent me flowers. I honestly don’t even think I would have remembered otherwise.

I take this as a good sign, a sign of healing. In one sense, 7 years is a long time. But in another sense, I feel good about the fact that in just 7 years, I’ve been able to process a very traumatic event and move past it. I’ve accepted it as part of my story, I’ve recognized how it has made me stronger and more empathetic to the struggle of others. It is a moment on my journey of life that has made me a better person.

July 26th is also the day that I started this blog – 6 years ago today, one year after experiencing postpartum depression, I created Threads of Anxiety. Sometimes I’m a little hit-or-miss as far as writing and publishing posts, but it’s been something I’ve enjoyed doing, I think it’s helped me become a better writer, and it’s certainly helped me process through some difficult events. In a way, writing is magic, it unlocks thoughts that you didn’t even know you had.

Blogging has also allowed me an avenue to share my story, which has been a huge part of my journey to healing.

Healing doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten the traumatic event, or that it doesn’t hurt a little to think about it. And healing doesn’t mean that I’m “back to my old self.” I’ve been forever changed. But it does mean that I’m moving forward and owning my story, and I’m so thankful to be where I am today.

I don’t know that I could have healed in isolation. There are so many people who have helped me along the way – therapists, my husband, friends, and family. There are people who have reached out to me after reading my blog just to say thanks for sharing it. Others have come up to me to tell me that they, too, were hospitalized for postpartum depression – I realized over and over again that I was not alone in my struggle.

To wrap up, I just want to take a moment to look July 26th in the eye and say, as Jennifer Connelly does in the movie Labyrinth…

You have no power over me.

bouquet of flowers in vase

5 Years After Postpartum Depression

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It’s 5 years out from the day I went to the emergency room for postpartum depression. 

July 26th will always be a significant date to me for that reason. In years past, it was always a day that filled me with guilt and shame. A day that reminded me of my ultimate failure as a mother. 

The lie that “I’m not a good mother” still tries to creep in every so often, especially today, but I’m getting better at recognizing it for what it is: a lie. 

5 years ago what I needed was to get help. I needed to go to the psych hospital and recover until I could be safe enough to be on my own. I gave up a week of my life with my baby so I could spend the rest of my life being the mother he needed me to be. It was the right decision. 

I’m thankful to my husband for having the courage to make the difficult decision to take me to the ER. It was scary and stressful, and I wasn’t in any state of mind to be at all helpful. I’m thankful for his background in mental health and for his experience with crisis work. I’m thankful he didn’t wait and hope I would get better on my own. 

I’m thankful for the person I’ve become because of this experience. I’m thankful for the opportunity to practice vulnerability with people, to share my story with others, and to make meaning out of suffering. 

I’m grateful for my postpartum depression being a wake up call to my obsession with perfection. I appreciate how this experience humbled me, how it helped me to realize that I’m not in control of everything, and how I learned that doing my best is oftentimes better than doing something perfectly. And everyone’s “best” looks different.

I’m grateful to be in a healthy place emotionally about this experience. I really feel like I hit a turning point last year, 4 years after the event. Honestly, I think it took about 3-4 years to really fully recover mentally from the depression. Healing is such a long process. 

I’ve said before that going through this made me a stronger person, but I am only stronger because I recognize my weaknesses and my shortcomings. And because I accept them. I accept myself.  

I’m grateful to have been writing on Threads of Anxiety for four years now, and look forward to more years in the future. 

Thanks for reading.

Spiritual Bravery: My Focus for 2021

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Only recently have I been the type of person to pick a word or phrase to focus on for the upcoming year (as opposed to more concrete resolutions), but as I’ve thought ahead to what I want my 2021 to look like, my mind kept bringing up the word “faith.” 

What do I mean when I say “faith?” I mean belief in God or a higher being, and trusting that God is actively working in my life, that things in my life are happening for a reason – and enjoying the peace that comes with that conviction.

For the past 5 years or so, I’ve been very mindful that my faith feels like it is lacking. It’s most noticeable when I am around someone who has strong faith – whose faith influences their daily decisions and isn’t just something they talk about in appropriate religious contexts. 

Religion is something that has always been a part of my life – I grew up going to church every Sunday, and in general have always been a rule-follower and someone who is concerned with “doing the right thing” and being a “good person.” But religion and faith are very different.

Like many others who grew up being religious or going to church, there comes a point in your life when you start to wonder why your church/religion does things the way they do, and if you actually believe those are the right things to be doing in the first place. Depending on what conclusions you come to in answering those questions, this can be a pretty scary or even earth-shattering time of life. 

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