Tag Archives: postpartum depression

Postpartum Depression is Too Important to Discuss on Twitter

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I get that my approach to Social Media and blogging isn’t exactly the most scientific. My roots are not in numbers, analytics, or ROI. While it’d be nice to be earning money at what I do, that’s not why I am here. I’m here to help people. Not to garner the most comments, followers, likes, retweets, etc.

Sure, it’s nice when you manage to get something to trend or have a really good day with retweets on Twitter, but bottom line? I am here to help moms and families struggling with Postpartum Mood & Anxiety Disorders.

If that means I have a slow day at the blog or I don’t blog at all, I’m okay with that. Direct Messages on Twitter, text messages, or phone calls that help a Mom figure out her next step or help a Dad feel a little less scared are worth far more than any comments, retweets, favorites, or likes.

Hang on, folks. I’m still on my Social Media rampage.

It was brought to my attention tonight that a certain blog tweeted a link to a piece about a certain aspect of Postpartum Depression. My friend responded to them, saying she’d been there and articles like theirs wrecked her when she was in the midst of things. Their response?

“It would be best to leave your comment in the appropriate place. 140 characters isn’t good. Here you go —> (link redacted)”

Woman who hosts a weekly chat about Postpartum Depression twice every Monday says WHAAAAAA?!?!?!
It gets better…yes, yes it does. She responded to that tweet, and they then said (hold on…)

“It would help if you would discuss it – not on twitter w/ 140 characters. It really is that serious. Have a good night.”

Original Photo "Wise Owl" by Isolino @ flickr.com http://www.flickr.com/photos/isolino/6288990750/sizes/l/in/photostream/

Original Photo “Wise Owl” by Isolino @ flickr.com http://www.flickr.com/photos/isolino/6288990750/sizes/l/in/photostream/

Wise Owl says WHOOOOOO do you think you are?!?!

So… Postpartum Depression is far too serious to discuss on Twitter. But…

Every Monday I discuss it. For an hour. At 1pm and then again at 830pm ET. In 140 characters or less at a time. Most of my 100k tweets are thanks to tweets about Postpartum Depression, actually.

And during the entire week, women and families discuss Postpartum Depression on Twitter. In LESS than 140 characters. Postpartum Depression is not too important to discuss on Twitter. If anything, it’s far too important to NOT discuss on Twitter.

Comments are nice.

Page views are nice.

SEO helps you get both.

But if you put something out on a platform in addition to where the actual post is located? Be prepared to discuss it on that platform. If you’re not prepared to discuss it then you shouldn’t share it. Anywhere. You also shouldn’t sensationalize things which don’t need to be sensationalized. Don’t use a term just to garner more page views if you’re not going to be responsible with how you present said material.

Do no harm is a wonderful basic rule here. There have been several Postpartum related things I’ve chosen to not blog about simply because I know they would ultimately do more harm than good to my readers and the community I have fostered through #ppdchat. It’s not that I want to keep them in the dark, per-say, just that I know there are other sources they can get the information from should they choose. If, however, the information is incorrect or sensationalized, you better believe I’ll jump on it in a heartbeat to protect my community from being fed misinformation.

If you’re not ready to discuss it, there’s an easy solution for you. Don’t hit publish. If you do hit publish, there’s no reason at all to be rude to someone who initiates conversation with you because you’re putting it out on Social Media. Responding as this account did violates the guidelines of Social Media – being social. Own your site. Own the words at your site. You put them out there, you need to stand behind them boldly.

Also? If you’re not ready to discuss Postpartum Depression with a Mom who’s been through it and has legitimate concerns? Don’t hit publish either. It’s irresponsible and potentially harmful.

 

A Postpartum Valentine

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February.

A sparkly, shiny, red month filled with nearly naked flying toddlers armed with arrows.

What’s not to love?

Sure, there are regular every day people who moan about Valentine’s Day because they won’t have anyone with whom to celebrate.

rottenecard_33445963_b54n9nhfv8But then there are those of us who do have someone to celebrate with –or are single moms with children old enough to celebrate plus a new baby –and a Postpartum Mood Disorder.

Ugh.

Who has time to put energy into telling someone you love them just because Hallmark says we have to do so? Why this day instead of that day? Just…ugh.

With a new baby in the house, chances are both of you are exhausted. Nobody is sleeping, you want to scream at the world or are worried about everything BUT pulling an awesome Valentine’s Day off. Because let’s face it, when the nearly naked toddler in your life is busy screaming about needing to eat or refusing to cooperate with potty training, the last thing you want to do is make a gazillion Valentine’s with glitter because it will get all over ALL THE THINGS.

I think Susan over at Learned Happiness nailed it in her post for today.

They’ve been celebrating it all month.

Then she points out the bonus of 50% off candy on February 15th.

What’s happier than half-price chocolate? (Okay, half-price wine but I digress).

Today, I want you to give yourself a Valentine.

Do something, anything, little or big, whatever is in your budget, for yourself.

Because today, you matter too and you shouldn’t have to wait today (or any day) for someone to show you how much you matter or are loved.

It starts inside you.

Your Valentine to yourself might just be the pick-me-up you need right now. Plus, you know yourself better than anyone.

Or…wait until tomorrow.

Because you know, all the good stuff will be on sale, as Susan so deftly pointed out.

That’s really winning.

A different kind of dark

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Perinatal Mood & Anxiety Disorders carry with them their own kind of dark. It’s a loud dark for many, filled with noise, thoughts, and frustrations bouncing off the ceiling, like bats fleeing from a cave when their “radar” isn’t quite working. Instead of flying perfectly out into the night, they bounce off the walls and fall down. But they get up and try again. Why? Because out in the world is their food and they need to eat. So…they have to leave the cave.

Try, try, try, try again. It’s not how you fall that matters. It’s how you get up.

I’ve been in that cave.

I tried, tried, tried and tried again until I finally flew free into the night, the sweet smell of honeysuckle surrounding me as mists of fresh rain drenched my face. Freedom from that cave is a feeling I will never forget.

But now, I find myself in a different kind of cave.

A cave made of physical limitations instead of mental struggles. This is not a prison of my mind. It is a prison of my body. Sadly, sometimes, it is both.

Today has been particularly difficult.

The pain started last week while I was traveling. I drove nearly 1800 miles in 7 days. Slept in different beds, didn’t have Tylenol and Ibuprofen with me, and spent hours sitting in a car (at least 28 hours just traveling, that doesn’t include the time driving while at my destination.) Driving through snow, ice, near-tornado conditions (I left Georgia the morning of the Adairsville Tornado), more snow & blizzard conditions, etc. On top of just sitting, driving was also stressful because I had to be very mindful of the not-so-awesome weather around me.

Since I’ve been home, the pain has spiraled down, increasing. I can’t get ahead of it. I went back to swimming this week. I’ve managed 25 laps, skipping Monday because I was exhausted just trying to scrape ice off my car.

I fear another flare is on the way. I am hoping it’s not but I can see it, hovering around the corner, giggling excitedly with glee at the prospect of tackling me once I get close enough.

This kind of dark SUCKS.

It sucks because there’s nothing I can do to prevent it. I can swim, I can take meds, I can avoid a large amount of carbs, and still… BOOM. There it is, waiting to pounce.

Today’s time in the pool was rough. I only went because I hurt. I forced myself to get in the pool and start swimming. Halfway through my body decided to quit. So I forced it to swim the final laps. I’m sure I looked like Elaine trying to dance in the pool but I didn’t care, dammit. I was there to swim at least 10 laps and by JOVE I was gonna put in my 10 laps.

As I got out of the pool, I faltered. To grab my towel, my mind had to slowly instruct my arm to reach out – as if I were an infant just learning to grab a toy. Don’t even get me started on the holy mess that was me trying to dress myself after showering.

Days like today are disheartening. Days like today are when the tears threaten to fall and I get angry. Angry and frustrated because I am still young and my body shouldn’t be doing this to me yet. But it is and here I am, in the dark.

Know what I’m gonna do tomorrow?

The same thing as today.

Because I didn’t kick ass through two severe episodes of postpartum depression to learn how to roll over and give up. No sir.

I kicked ass through two severe episodes of postpartum depression to learn how to FIGHT BACK.

Tomorrow, the battle continues.

I will win, just like I did today, even if it means I don’t get to leave the cave just yet. As long as I’m moving forward and doing my best, I will be happy with any amount of progress.