Tag Archives: postpartum depression

#PPDChat: 05.05.14 – The Beast We Don’t Fear with @Alycianeighbour

Alycia is the kind of person every one deserves to have as a friend. She’ll laugh at all the inappropriate things with you, scoop you up when you’re down (even if she’s down too), and then take you to the park where you stomp at pigeons to keep them away. Seriously though, the woman has a very deep heart and has been through quite a bit (you can read her fabulous blog here). She’s the type of friend you can call even if you haven’t talked in awhile and it’s like you never stopped talking. Alycia’s spirit is grounded in her faith in God. It’s constantly challenged by her large (occasionally, okay, mostly chaotic) brood and her menagerie of pets, and soothed by her amazing husband and friends. Somehow, she manages to write and sorta stay sane enough to be friends with the likes of me.

Today’s #PPDChat is based on a post Alycia wrote for me, which appears below. She discusses her dogs (yes, it’s applicable) and how their personalities convey the type of people we might find in our lives. She urges us to find a person like one of her dogs, Tuesday. You’ll have to read the post to discover the details.

This is a chat you don’t want to miss. You’ll laugh, you’ll snort, and most of all, you’ll get some hard truth from both of us about life. See you tonight on Twitter at 830pm ET, 730pm CT, and 530pm PT!

Without further ado, here’s Alycia’s post:

The Beast We Don’t Fear

In our home of 8, there are a lot of beasts we deal with. Recurrent Depression, PTSD, ADHD, and a host of other beasts that show up, because this is Life and sometimes it gets really messy.

This is going to seem like a side note, but is essential in us learning to not fear when the beast shows up.

I have 4 dogs. Their names are Fat Tuesday (160lb English Mastiff) Black Friday (wanna- be alpha male husky 70lbs) Lady Monday (35 lb Shepherd recovering from a broken leg and tentative) and Walter (40lb total mix and MY dog)

I observe them a lot and do a lot of training with them, but never to take away from their inherent nature. The dogs also serve as emotional conductors in my house where nerves get raw and sometimes we need to snuggle and pet something.

(Yes you are seriously reading about dog posturing on a blog that focuses on mental health – hang with me)

Friday has a tendency to get mad easily and will try to take it out on the two smaller than him. Monday will cower and pee on the floor unless cornered and then she takes the teeth out. Walter won’t take his crap at all. But he’s outweighed. So both of them have learned to avoid Bad Mood Friday.

Unless Tuesday is around.

(This sounds like a three stooges routine huh?)

Tuesday is our negotiator and protector when there is a problem, or she perceives an impending problem. Children or dogs beginning to argue, she physically puts herself between them and will nudge the offender or bigger away from the innocent or weak. When someone new is around, she stands guard and on the ready for the unexpected and her services are needed.

Not much gets past a 160lb mammoth dog that is clearly ready to put you in your place.

We all need a Tuesday. I don’t mean we all need a dog as big as a horse, but we need people who will be our Tuesday as we sludge through our mental illness.

We need that one person (or a group is better – but a group dynamic can add emotions which confuse the initial purpose) who we know when we are having a weak day, getting picked on or having an angry day; will lean on us and steer us away from the attack (real or perceived – hurt is hurt, pain is pain – no sliding scale of judgment).

But as great as online groups are and their support can be immediate, we need to find someone tangible, someone who can hold us. Perhaps a relative, friend, family, counselor, etc. just somebody you can touch. Never discount the simple act of your hand on someone’s shoulder who is about to cave.

Alycia & TuesdayGo find yourself a Tuesday and give that person orders to protect you in your fight. You won’t be shunned, I can guarantee that despite your bleak view of the world right now, you will be embraced and you will be safe.

 

#PPDChat Topic: #Semicolonproject416 – Life Goes On

Leave a reply

#PPDChat Topic - ; and Life Goes On There’s a fabulous group bringing attention to those who live with mental health issues – The Semicolon Project. Their mission statement:

“The Semicolon Project is a Non-Profit Organization dedicated to presenting hope, help, and support to the people and communities suffering from mental health issues. We are here to address depression, anxiety, self-harm, addiction, and suicide. We aim to inspire and encourage people to do one of the hardest things imaginable: ask for help when they need it most.”

These are similar goals to #PPDChat. We are here to encourage people to reach out, address issues, and educate those who are fighting against this specific set of mental health issues. Our passion is dedicated to helping new families thrive as they find their way through new parenthood and for many of them, a new struggle with mental health challenges along the way.
According to The Semicolon Project’s Twitter profile, the meaning behind the semicolon is this:
“A Semicolon represents a sentence the author could’ve ended but chose not to. The author is you and the sentence is your life.”
Life is challenging with twists and turns. The toughest challenge, however, is to place a semicolon where you feel like there should be a period. Join me tonight as we talk about choosing to move past the tough and continue the sentence into the rest of our lives.
If you, or someone you love, are in crisis right now, there is help and there is hope. Reach out, seek help. If you need to call someone who understands and can help you, dial 800-273-TALK (8255). You are never alone.

A Different Breed

6 Replies

She sighs, in the dark, as her baby snuggles closer to her neck, his chubby fists opening and closing as he exhales and relaxes his body with a small whimper. She waits, supporting him, waiting for that moment when the weight of sleep brings a random tingle or two to her forearm. Stands up slowly, using muscles in her thighs to lift her upper body as she does so, careful to not a muscle touching her now sleeping infant. Eyes flutter shut as she puts one foot in front of the other, heading for the crib. Baby shifts, stutter sighs, and moves, nuzzling further into her neck. She moves her hand to the back of his head, rubbing it softly as she hums their song.

She manages to lay him down and leave the room. As she crawls into bed, her calves sink into the mattress first, then the exhaustion surges upward until her eyes slam shut until morning, all of an hour and a half away when she will wake up to a hungry baby, a dog with a full bladder, and a toddler who has probably strewn cheerios over half the house because she needed to feed the dog.

Motherhood.

It changes us.

Mentally.

Physically.

For some, motherhood is a warm field on a sunny day filled with laughter, babbling brooks, playful deer, and an intoxicating joy.

For others, motherhood is a dark room in the bottom of the keep, covered with bars, the key well beyond our reach. We fight, we scream, we rage against the thick door but it won’t budge. We see the warm field in the sun from the window a the top of our room and long for it – long to talk walks with our little ones as the sun beats down upon our faces and a smile spreads across our face but instead, we are trapped inside our own special hell.

Motherhood without a mental illness is not the easiest road to tread, either. Heck, life in general requires some level of tenacity. One of the most frustrating things I am faced with is not discounting the struggles that each of us go through – respecting the journey of every single mother without demeaning the journey of another. And yet, it’s my goal.

Over the past several years, I have been privileged enough to meet some of the most amazing and resilient parents. Parents who fight for themselves, for their children, for their relationships, for life. Parents who work through even deeper hells than I can even imagine and still manage to parent their kids, all the while, worrying about how their experience will affect their kids, their marriage, their jobs, their lives. Yet, every morning, they wake, get out of bed, and take another step forward toward healing, even if they are absolutely exhausted.

A friend of mine posted on FB a quip about hockey players being a different breed. He was commenting on Rich Peverly’s alleged desire to get back into the game despite having experienced a cardiac event on the bench. Any other sport and the player wouldn’t be thinking about getting back in the game, right?

The same is true of mothers battling against mental illness, whatever form it may take for them. We want to get back in the game. We want to play, we want to laugh. We want to be free to just…be…without the burden or restraint of our mental health on our souls. This is why we cherish the good days and wade through the bad ones. Why we hold on so tightly to every single glimmer of hope crossing our hearts.

We are a different breed.

We aren’t worse.

We aren’t better.

We’re just different and we want to be loved for who we are, not what you think we should be or could be.

We just are.

Love us anyway?

Reblogged: Honesty Is The Best Policy

Leave a reply

There are people on Twitter I seem to have “known” for quite awhile. As it often is with Twitter, I am never sure how we “met” but there are a few I feel a stronger connection to than others. We may not talk often, but they are the ones I check in with from time to time. This post is from one of those people and it’s a really insightful and honest post about Postpartum Depression and Anxiety.

All too often we do not reach out for help because of stigma or because we think this is just the way things are supposed to be. This time around, she’s doing it differently. Go show her some love as she steps out into her brave new world.