#HAWMC: Dear 16 year old self…

Posted on by
1

Dear 16 year old self:

I’m sitting down to write this letter to you with nearly 20 years of wisdom on you. Wisdom garnered from the life which awaits you. There are a few things I feel you should know:

Stop slamming the bedroom door. Your parents mean it when they say they’ll take it away. It’s going to break in less than 6 months. And a curtain? Doesn’t have the same dramatic effect.

You’re going to say bitch in front of your entire AP Government class your senior year. It’s okay though, because there’s always someone who says it every year. Don’t worry, you stumble through it beautifully. A heads up though might just give you the extra oomph to be even more sarcastic when it happens. PS. ON THE BEACH. Not ON THE BITCH. Just saying.

College will both rock and be one of the biggest challenges of your life. You’ll lose yourself a bit too much in alcohol and partying but you’ll make amazing friends after that phase. You’ll become grandparentless. This will hurt like hell and make you want to go back to the alcohol. Don’t. Let it pour out, allow yourself to feel it, allow it to consume you until you’re through. It’s okay to hurt this much.

Kids – there are three of them in your future. They’re hilarious, witty, beautiful, amazing, and so much more. Don’t ever forget this, especially when things get hard.

Things will get hard, especially after you have daughters. Incredibly hard. But you know what? there are moms out there JUST LIKE YOU. You’re not alone and you will eventually get better.

All of this hard and then some to which I am not speaking in a public forum will make you an amazing woman who knows how to laugh, appreciate the little things, and not take life so damn seriously all the time. The good things are brighter, the happiness is sharper, and the joy is exquisite. Life is all yours – and remember, how people choose to react to you is their gig, not yours.

So go. LIVE. Be happy. Be sad. Get angry. But above all, be free.

 

#HAWMC: A Mantra for New Moms

Posted on by
Reply

(you can see this poster online here as well)

#HAWMC: A frank discussion

Posted on by
Reply

The following is an actual brief discussion with a friend via email.

By far the most amazing discussion of the week.

And yes. I’m kvetching about the haikus at the onset of this discussion.

Me: “I hate formulaic poetry. It’s so restrictive.”

Him: “You cannot have meaning without structure, grasshopper.”

Me: “I disagree.”

Him: “Then you need to read your Wittgenstein.”

Me: “Why?”

Him: “So that you can get a full understanding of structure and it’s value.”

Me: “You’re a big believer in structure and rules, aren’t you?”

Him: “You can’t have language without them.”

Me: “Really? The best writers consistently disregard the rules.”

Him: “If you disregard the rules too much you are only writing for yourself…”

Me: “Perhaps at first, yes. But rules are meant to be disregarded, yes? If we always followed rules and logic, nothing would ever change.”

Him: “If you didn’t have rules to the game there would be no game.”

#HAWMC: Lost in the light

Posted on by
Reply

Today I took some time just for me. I drove an hour to a state park and meandered on the trails for over two hours. I ended up at a dam which is where I sat and ate lunch, listening to the rushing water, the birds, and enjoyed the gentle breeze flowing around me.

I watched a crow fly from one side of the lake shore to the other. Boats came and went on the water beneath the dam, some of them stopping to cast a line in the hopes of catching a fish.

As I sat there, soaking up the atmosphere, sunshine, and basking in the relaxing view, I realized that no matter how hard things get, no matter how dark they might seem, the sun always rises the next morning. So shall we.

I lost myself today. Not in the darkness, but in the light. I didn’t want to leave the grassy knoll above the dam. I could have stayed there all day. Losing yourself in the light instead of the darkness is an experience like no other. Your heart soars and tumbles like the strong hawk floating on a thermal high in the sky. You smile as you exhale, closing your eyes as you drink in the peace around you, remembering a time when you could have sat there and not seen or felt a thing.

It’s days like today which make me grateful for the dark. Because without it, days like today wouldn’t mean so much to me.

#HAWMC: haiku, haiku, haiku

Posted on by
Reply

mothers, babies, snuggle
in quiet cover of night
lone tear slides down

whirlwind swirling round
fall down stand up breathe in out
exhausted collapse

bright blue sky overhead
clouds drift across as I stare
remembering peace

tiny leaf bud clings
tightly to branch, mother hug
yearning to escape

#HAWMC – Ekphrasis

Posted on by
Reply

(The picture I’m describing can be found here. The user disabled downloads of her work so I’m not able to share it with you on my blog post.)

Purple flowers hang upside down, surrounded by sharp green blades of grass, but it’s not how they’re meant to be seen. It’s how the camera sees them, how the artist sees them. It’s all a translation of beauty, seen from a different angle.

There’s a quote beneath the photo, “Life takes your dreams and turns them upside down.”

I can’t think of a better description for Postpartum Mood & Anxiety disorders, can you?

For many of us, we painstakingly plan our pregnancies, buy the right things for the nursery and laugh and giggle at our baby showers. Others may not feel the same way but hope to feel better once baby arrives, banking on birth to improve their mood. Still others are just struggling to adjust to even being pregnant as it’s unplanned.

Whatever your situation, there are hopes and dreams you have attached to the outcome of your current journey. When those hopes and dreams are dashed against the rocks by the trauma of a PMAD, things get a lot darker. You feel turned upside down and inside out. As if there’s no escape from the hell in which you’ve found yourself.

But, even in that darkness, even when you least feel it, just as those purple flowers, you are still beautiful. Flowers begin as a seed, some as a horrific bulb which is then planted in the dark earth, covered with dirt, and forced to fight it’s way out into the sun. Once it emerges, you don’t see the dirt for long. It shrugs it off and speeds toward the sun, toward blooming into a gorgeous thing of beauty. Flowers require care, sunlight, water, nourishment. They need to be tended to in order to bring joy to the world. Think of how bland the world would be without the colourful variations of flowers springing forth in even the most difficult of places.

You are not destined to spend eternity in that dark place. One day, you too, will burst forth, speed toward the sun, and bloom into a gorgeous blossom.

(This post written as part of WEGO Health’s Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge. You can check it out and join here: http://t.co/kp15ymv1)

#HAWMC: Why I write

Posted on by
1

After I fell down the rabbit hole so far that only a weekend in a mental hospital helped me, I realized I wanted one thing. To talk to another mom. I needed to know that my crazy wasn’t permanent. That I was okay, normal, and I would be well again. Even if I wasn’t going to be well again, I told myself, I need to know I’m not here in crazyland by myself.

During my stay, a psych nurse told me something which has stuck with me for over six years and I suspect will stay with me for quite some time. She told me I didn’t have to tell anyone where I had been that weekend. I know, you’re hearing the record scratch in your head too, right?

It’s a moment in my story I have discussed several times here at my blog. But it’s an important moment, I think, one which truly sums up the state of mental health awareness in our country, even among those who are involved in directly treating those struggling. The message it sends is chilling.

Sssshhhhhhhh. Don’t tell anyone you’ve been to the crazy house.

Why the fuck not?

Why would I remain quiet about this? Why do I deserve to be judged for something which is no more my fault than the breast cancer? Would a nurse dare tell a patient in for Chemo they don’t have to tell anyone where they’ve been?

I get that health is private, HIPAA and all that. We have a right to remain quiet about our health, physical or mental, but to suggest to someone that it’s absolutely not necessary to tell anyone where they’ve been is simply neurotic. This did not happen while signing papers or during admission. No, this happened during a casual conversation during my first day there.

What, was I supposed to go home and pretend I’d gone to Bermuda? Would I be given parting gifts to help fake my weekend tropical get away? Quite frankly, if they wanted me to believe I’d been in Bermuda, they should have given me stronger drugs. But I’ve digressed.

The more we give into this culture of silence and stigma surrounding mental health, the more we enable the stereotypes to stand. Yes, I had depression and a whole slew of other issues (OCD, PTSD, suicidal ideation, intrusive thoughts…) but you know what? I’m a perfectly normal person. I’m just like you. I think, I eat, I breathe, I function quite well most of the time. I hit a rough patch and needed help to get through it. It’s no different than someone being hospitalized for a serious injury or infection. At least, it shouldn’t be any different.

This is why I write. I write because it’s important to acknowledge that people with mental health issues aren’t of the insane Hollywood variety. We are normal people you see every day. We are your sisters, your wives, your cousins, your mothers, your aunts, your friends, your co-workers. We are human too. Treat us as such.