Original Graphic Art by Lauren Hale
Merry Christmas to #PPDChat
Leave a reply
Monthly Archives: December 2011
Whatever Wednesday: Just One Year
This time last year I was married.
I was 281 pounds.
Deep down, I was miserable.
I knew my life had to change.
We got a Wii.
I started exercising.
I started hiking.
I’ve lost over 60 pounds.
In May, I left my marriage.
By August, our divorce was final.
I’ve traveled quite a bit since May, all in the US and all in the Eastern coast/South.
I’ve met some awesome people from Twitter & the blogosphere in person. I’ve reconnected with old friends. I’ve made new friends.
I’ve seen places I never thought I’d see in person. I’ve done things I never imagined myself doing.
I visited the Lorton Workhouse just outside of D.C., where Alice Paul and other suffragists were sentenced to serve time after protesting outside the White House.
I spent some time in the Quantico National Cemetery. God Bless our military, especially the fallen Marines and their mourning families. Thank you for your sacrifice.
I hung out in Norfolk, VA at the beach after Hurricane Irene stumbled through and destroyed a few things.
I’ve driven through tornado damage and wept.
I live tweeted the Republican Debate from Wofford College in Spartanburg, SC.
I hiked (a lot) in Nashville, TN. Even got lost and had to be rescued by my brother.
I hiked in Virginia too. Not as much as in Nashville, but I went and did it by myself and was okay with not finishing. Know your limits, people.
Speaking of going by yourself, I attended the annual lighting of the Christmas Tree in Roanoke, VA by myself. Went to the Taubman Art Museum that night too.
I survived 15 minutes of Go-Karting at Virginia International Raceway without wrecking or going off track.
I ate pizza in New Jersey for the first time in over 20 years. I cried.
I sat in the Village Vanguard in NYC, drank wine, and listened to amazing jazz with a hilarious new friend last week. In a dress smaller than any dress I’ve worn since the mid 90’s.
I visited Ground Zero and was filled with awe and peace as I walked around the memorial pools, staring at the names of all the Americans lost on 9/11/2001.
I ate lunch at Veselka’s (you know, where Norah eats in the middle of the night in Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist).
I realized the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Plaza is MUCH smaller in real life. And how crowded it is there in December. (Related – I will NEVER complain about crowds again.)
I’ve discovered I love traveling by train and absolutely must do this more often.
But more importantly, I found something these past few months.
I found confidence. I found my passion for life hadn’t completely disappeared, it just went on vacation.
I smiled until it hurt. I smiled because I was smiling until it hurt.
I laughed. I cried. Sometimes I laughed until I cried. Sometimes I just cried. A lot.
More than anything though?
I dove into the depths of the waters well beyond my comfort zone without hesitation.
I’m still here.
I can do anything.
I believe in ME.
If 2011 taught me all of this, I cannot WAIT to see what 2012 has in store for me.
12 Days of Christmas Parody: The 12 Days of Christmas by @CrayonWrangler
Alycia’s Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer was such a fabulous hit, she’s back with an encore. This time, she tackles The 12 Days of Christmas. Hold your applause until the end, please.
On the first day of Christmas,
my Postpartum gave to me
A need to weep and flee.
On the second day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the third day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Three box of kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the fourth day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Four friends a-calling,
Three box of Kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the fifth day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Five sleepless nights,
Four friends a-calling,
Three box of Kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the sixth day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Six people judging,
Five sleepless nights,
Four friends a-calling,
Three box of Kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the seventh day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Seven new pills to take,
Six people judging,
Five sleepless nights,
Four friends a-calling,
Three box of Kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the eighth day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Eight moods a-minute,
Seven new pills to take,
Six people judging,
Five sleepless nights,
Four friends a-calling,
Three box of Kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the ninth day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Nine pounds lost and found,
Eight moods a-minute,
Seven new pills to take,
Six people judging,
Five sleepless nights,
Four friends a-calling,
Three box of Kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the tenth day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Ten irrational thoughts,
Nine pounds lost and found,
Eight moods a-minute,
Seven new pills to take,
Six people judging,
Five sleepless nights,
Four friends a-calling,
Three box of Kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the eleventh day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Eleven new PPD articles,
Ten irrational thoughts,
Nine pounds lost and found,
Eight moods a-minute,
Seven new pills to take,
Six people judging,
Five sleepless nights,
Four friends a-calling,
Three box of Kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee.
On the twelfth day of Christmas,
my Postpartum sent to me
Twelve more boxes of Kleenex,
Eleven new PPD articles,
Ten irrational thoughts,
Nine pounds lost and found,
Eight moods a-minute,
Seven new pills to take,
Six people judging,
Five sleepless nights,
Four friends a-calling,
Three box of Kleenex,
Two hours of anxiety,
A need to weep and flee!
_______________________________
Alycia is the author at “Coloring Me Happy” and is formerly known as Crayon Wrangler. Widow, Suicide Survivor, Mother of 3, blending a family of 8 children and trying to get enough coffee. She’s tired. Also a photographer, she has learned to narrow the focus of the big picture into the little moments that matter the most in both pictures and her life.
Postpartum Voice of the Week: @Hopin2bHappy’s Email to My Husband
Within the #PPDChat community, members not only share how they’re feeling or what they’re going through, sometimes they tweet specific requests for support with a current situation. Such was the case just the other day with one particular member. @Hopin2bHappy tweeted about an email she sent to her husband in regards to her current struggle with her Postpartum Mood Disorder. Then she posted the letter at the #PPDChat Closed FB group. Her letter is phenomenal and one every husband should read. One every Mom with PPD should read. It’s honest, raw, and powerful. She graciously offered to allow me to share her words here. I’m honoured to do so and hope you will share it with everyone you know. The entire post from the FB group is included (with her permission of course) – her introduction, the letter, and her husband’s reaction to the email. With no further ado, I give you quite possibly one of the most powerful pieces I’ve ever posted here for husbands and wives:
Hi Ladies.
I’ve been having a really tough week. I’m in the middle of a med change, kids have been sick and I’ve been exhausted. Last night my husband and I had a huge fight at 2am, I felt so beat down, alone and really ready to just stop trying.
This morning I wrote my husband an e-mail. Here it is.
Dear Hubs,
I love you and you need to remember that I don’t want to be this way. You have been working so hard to care for our family, and I want you to know how much I appreciate all you do for the boys and all you do to keep us afloat. That’s why it has been so hard for me to talk to you about what I’m about to write.
Sometimes, I think you forget that when I’m having a bad day, I am not capable of being rational. Telling me to get over it and just deal, or stop having thin skin, or that I should be happy [we have a comforter, etc.] doesn’t help. It actually makes me feel even worse for not being able to control these feelings. That’s when I get filled with rage and lose it on you.
Sometimes, I think that what you want is for me to lose it, just so you can blame everything on me being crazy.
I know it’s hard for you when I’m saying crazy things. I know you want to defend yourself and tell me what’s on your mind. What I don’t think you understand is that THIS IS NOT ME. When I get overwhelmed and lash out at everything? Most of the time I dont even believe what I’m saying, but I just can’t stop. The more you tell me I’m crazy, a liar, and insane, it just gets worse. I feel helpless and I start to believe those things you accuse me of, which only makes matters worse.
Instead of you trying to analyze my words and picking out inconsistencies, accusing me of lying, or fighting back by saying I’m being irrational, what I REALLY want, no, NEED, is for you to hug me. I need you to tell me you are sorry I feel this way and that it will get better. That you love me. That I’m a good mom. I know these things are hard for you to do sometimes, especially in the heat of the moment. But I’ve never needed your love and support more than I do right now.
I am trying so hard, but sometimes I feel like you don’t give me any credit for trying. I’m talking to doctors, taking medications and seeing a therapist. I wish I could snap my fingers or drink a magic potion and make it all go away, but unfortunately, it is not that easy. I will get through this, but I can NOT do this alone. If we get through this together, as a team, things will get better faster and be easier for us both. The best gift we can give our boys is a happy and healthy relationship. I’m fighting this as hard as I can, not just for them, but for you, too. You deserve the best of me, which is what I want so badly to give, but I need your, love, support and encouragement to make it happen.
I love you.
He came upstairs and hugged me. He commited to try and not take things so personally, and not react so strongly. He acknowledged that I am trying, and we are going to fight this as a team.
I am so relieved. And I Want to thank a very special friend for helping me edit my letter so it actually made sense.
12 Days of Christmas Challenge: Deck the Halls
Deck the halls with bouts of anxiety,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Tis the season to be panicked,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Don we now our stoic expressions,
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
Troll old haunts of truly happy,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
See the echoes of our sanity,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Gulp our meds and join society.
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Follow me off to therapy,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
While I tell of tribulations,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Not far away from recovery am I,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Hail the new, ye doubts and doubters,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Sing we recovered, all together,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Heedless of the naysayers,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.