After I had Law, I went through about 3 months of postpartum anxiety/depression, and it was the darkest place I’ve ever been in. I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression off and on for a good chunk of my life, but never like this. I’ve never really hidden it, but I’ve never really shouted it either. I’d go from feeling like I was losing my mind to feeling like I would never be happy again, feeling terrified of dying to feel like I wanted to die, back and forth and back and forth. I was exhausted and felt like I was doing everything I could to hold my head above the water, but I would feel like I was in a rip current and kept being pulled under. Law was the only thing that helped me come up for air. Now it’s a big blur, but I remember one day just snapping and telling Chase that if he didn’t take me to the therapist that day that I would need to go to the ER because I wanted to die. I could go on and on, but I’ll make this relatively short and say that I got help through counseling and through medication, and slowly crawled out of my pit.
And this is how it always happens. I’ll go through the pit of anxiety/depression and then one day I’ll sit and look around and think, “I am so happy. I am so grateful. God is so good.” And just like that, I realize that somewhere along the way, I got out of the rip current. I found a life raft. I’m out of the water. I’m on land. And I can breathe. There is hope. It’s Friday and I’m surrounded by family and had a really good dinner and drinking really good wine, and I want to let whoever needs this tonight to know that it DOES end and it DOES get better and that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I love you. God loves you. You have people in your life who need you. The world needs what you have to offer. Keep fighting. I’m proud of you. You’ll breathe again.