"The Road to Tomorrow" by Stuck In Customs @flickr.com
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
~T.S. Eliot~
For those of you who are still fragile, watch this Sheryl Crow Video. Don’t go read these posts. Seriously. They’re good but not worth risking your mental health over.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIYiGA_rIls]
Usually for the Postpartum Voice of the Week I write an intro, point out the strong points, admire the authors writing.
I’m not doing that today. Not because there’s a lack of either one of those things but because I would end up sharing the entire post.
What has happened to Pamela (@lotsospermies) this past week is beyond inexcusable. It speaks to the level of disregard for those who live among us and struggle with mental illness, especially mental illness related to the postpartum period.
We are human. We deserve dignity and respect. We are not stupid. We are not morons. We are you. We are hurt. We are fighting to be well. Respect that. Listen. HELP US. Do not lock us away. Don’t tell us to be silent. We refuse to suffer indignities in the dark any longer. We are here. We are not afraid to speak up. We are not afraid.
Pamela courageously and in a raw honest voice shares her experience with her readers.
I’m sharing it here.
Go. Read. Share some words of hope with her.
Based on a True Story (Part I)
Based on a True Story (Part II)
In the interest of all these Top 10 or Top 5 lists making the rounds this week, I thought I would toss my blog in the ring. But not with the usual Best of post. No, these are things which I rarely share with anyone. Above all else, I’m a mom and a woman just like you.
So here goes. No matter how awkward they may be to admit. Swallowing some major pride here people. Major.
10) I grew up listening to nothing but Christian music. That’s right. Leon Patillo, Sheila Walsh, Margaret Becker, Steve Taylor, Randy Stonehill, 2nd Chapter of Acts, David & The Giants, Whiteheart, Stryper, Petra, Amy Grant, Leslie (now Sam) Phillips, and eventually DC Talk were my world. I totally rocked out to them too. And I still love their music.
9) As a child, wThenatching Mtv at my grandparent’s house was the biggest sin I could commit. I would sneak away and turn on a TV, praying to catch Madonna’s Like a Virgin video. I would sit there and drool in amazement. She could MOVE. See #10 for motive.
8) I cannot, repeat, cannot read Harlequin or any other kind of fluff romance crap books. The egregiously horrific grammar, plot, and spelling errors piss me off to no end.
7) Lady Gaga cures my writer’s block. Am I happy about this? Not particularly. But her music is my crack. I find myself going back every time I’m stuck. Like @JessAriasCooper said, she’s Ipecac for the Soul. Yes, that has got to be why she cures my writer’s block. (I don’t own her music. I just pull it up on Groove Shark every time I’m stuck. Cuz really. Who pays for that.. oh wait.. millions.) I draw the line at Bieber though. Never. Nope. Never. EVER. Did I mention NO Bieber? Just so we’re clear…
6) I love Anime. No, not the crap on American TV. I mean the stuff in Japanese. For grownups. And no, not Hentai. Sheesh. The good stuff. I belonged to an Anime club in college. We’d get together on Wednesday nights, order Pizza, put on Anime, and practice sarcasm for two to three hours. It was awesome. I miss that crew.
5) I have never read Moby Dick or completed any Charles Dickens novel. I hold a B.A. in English Literature. You may flog me now.
4) I hated peanut butter and chocolate until my second pregnancy. My husband has loved peanut butter and chocolate his whole life. He was NOT pleased with this development.
3) I am from Neptune. Seriously. I am. Explains a lot, doesn’t it? Okay, that’s Neptune, New Jersey. Born there. And you bet your ass that was fun to tell drunk frat boys back in the day.
2) I once got a radio DJ to play Ain’t Nuthin but a G Thang three times in a row. On air. I was hooked. Again – see #10 for motive.
1) I have an unnatural anxiety inducing fear of bridges. The proper term is: Gephyrophobia. When we were younger and still living in Jersey, we would be in the midst of climbing a high bridge and my dad would predictably blurt out he had heard the other side of the bridge had been destroyed. Oh, and he would drive over close to the edge too. Don’t even get me started about the time we crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge/Tunnel. Just don’t. Ahhh. Parents. Kids. Scaring the crap out of them is fun until it gives them a life long phobia. It’s become a family joke though so no hard feelings, here, Dad. But I will need a Xanax or two or three or more if I ever have to drive over the Verrazano by myself.
Everyone seems to take time at the end of the year to look back toward events which transpired in their lives. While it’s important to look back to remember the past, it’s also important to keep your eyes on the road ahead of you. You are where you are. Not where you have been, not where you will be when your journey is done.
Rather, you are where you are in this very moment.
Part of recovery involves realizing from where you have come and to where you will go as you heal.
Today, I challenge you to not only look back at the past year but to look forward to the coming year.
2011 is YOUR year. It’s a year during which you can make the best of anything heading your way. It’s a year during which YOU advocate for yourself, don’t take no for an answer, set small goals to reach recovery. You can do this. You can.
I know you feel alone. I know you’re scared. I know you feel lost down there in the dark.
You’re not alone down there.
No matter what your story, no matter what your history, no matter what you think is holding you back, we have all been where you are. We have all felt that something holding us back. We have ALL felt swallowed by the bottomless black pit filled with Postpartum Mood Disorders.
We care. We are many. We care. Let us care. Lean on us when you hurt. Lean on us when you don’t hurt. Lean on us when you can’t get up. Lean hard. We are here. We are love.
Now that you’ve gone through an entire box of Kleenex, I would love it if you would share your hopes for the next year. Keep them small and achievable. But keep them filled with hope.
Let’s get to Just Talkin’.
