I Did Good

Yesterday morning, I spoke at a local mom's group (that I was attending during the fall, but because I'm back to work, unfortunately I can no longer attend).  I was asked to speak about my experience with post-partum depression/anxiety/OCD.  I was ridiculously nervous to speak, but not because of the topic. It was the whole public speaking OMG-I-think-my-fly-is-down-but-I-won't-stop-talking-to-check-it-because-I-don't-want-to-draw-attention-to-my-crotchal-region-especially-while-standing-in-a-church kind of fears.  In the last five seconds as I was being introduced, the only thing I wanted to do was run to the bathroom and empty my bowels.  Too much information?  Deal with it.

But I didn't run to the bathroom.  I got up and, for the next thirty minutes, I re-counted what the last year and a half has been like for me.  I re-visited those dark moments when I no longer wanted to be alive and talked about what pulled me back to reality.  I spoke about that moment when the thoughts of harming Kat first entered my mind and how, even though I was only four days into being a mother, I instantly felt like a failure.  I cried.  I had a feeling that I would, but I hoped I would be able to keep it together.

Of course, me being me, there were moments of humour and I was happy that people laughed at the appropriate places.  I was also happy that no one ran from the room screaming that I was crazy.  As I was speaking, I realized that, yes, I was doing it to bring awareness to PPD and how common it really is and maybe my talk would help another woman in the room.  But I also realized that I was speaking for myself and that my ability to stand up and, without any fear of judgement, be able to talk about those dark moments is a true testament of how far I've come on this journey.  It was therapeutic for me and, with each word that I spoke, I could feel the PPD begin to slip into a little box.  That little box will always be a part of who I am, but I refuse to allow it to define me.

And how do I know that I did a good job?  Because afterward, I got a hug from a complete stranger and all she said was, "Thank you".  I got a hug from another woman who proceeded to share with me her own struggle with PPD.  A lot of people came up and told me I had done a good job and while I appreciated their comments, it was those two hugs that made my day and re-affirmed why I did what I did.

I am excited at the possibilities of where this could lead.  I am at the point where I would be more than willing to speak again in another venue about my experience.  Mike's suggestion? That I go stand outside City Hall and share it with the people walking by me. I think I'll pass on that...for now :)