I had written it and rewritten it. Then I put it in a drawer and there it remained. My postpartum OCD story, that is.
It was 2004 and I wasa marketing director at The Coca-Cola Company. I felt this push and pull between speaking openly about what I had gone through a few years earlier — so that others wouldn't feel as alone as I did — and keeping my mouth shut so as not to screw up my job. I had planned on sending the story to a magazine that I knew accepted essays, but then I changed my mind, figuring it would only cause me problems I didn't need. Into the drawer it went.
The universe did notlike the drawer option. God had other plans for me. After years of a stellar career, I suddenly found myself being offered a package to leave Coke in the midst ofreorganization, and I took it. Not long after, I printed out my story, sealed it in an envelope, and sent it to Newsweek. There was nothing holding me back now, I figured.
Then came many months of silence, which was okay really because Ihad estimatedI only had a snowball's chance in hell of hearing back from them. But thenthey called. They were going to publish my essay. (!) They sent a photographer to my house who took a picture of my son and I that makes me laugh because I look so nervous. Then came the pub date: June 7, 2004.
(cue the foreboding music)
Have you ever been really excited about something, only then to develop a serious case of buyer's remorse? I started thinking about the fact that people would know about my intrusive thoughts and my horrible moments. They could judge me. They might discount me. Or avoid me.
Neighbors. Acquaintances. Grocery store clerks. Google. They would all know.
Perhaps this hadn't been a good idea.
My husband and Istarted to joke that when the magazine came out we would buy a bunch of copies and put one in each of my neighbor's mailboxes with a Post-It note that said "P.S. I love to babysit!!!" It was good to laugh about it, but at the same time I worried whether there'd be no more playdates at my house.
In the end,everything turned out just fine. I heard nothing from my neighbors or pretty much anyone else, other than from friends and family who were proud of me. I still remember, though, the feeling of dread that I had done something that couldn't be undone, the consequences of which might be less than ideal.
I tell you that story to tell you this: I know it's scary to speak up. I know the fear in the pit of your stomach when you think about sharing your antenatal or postpartum experience with a mental illness openly. I know that for some of you now is not the optimal time to talk about this. That's okay. One day, if you can, you will tell your story, and you will find there are many rewards in doing so. The kind of rewards that have no measure.
Today I sent a request out over the Postpartum Progress Facebook page for more additions to the Surviving & Thriving Mothers Photo Album. I'd like to thank Sera, Tara D., Elizabeth H. and Emily B. for sending their beautiful pictures. These photos tell stories of survival and courage.
Update!!! Now I've also added Chris W., Anne W. and Lauren W. (what's with all the Ws?). Thanks so much ladies!!
Sorry missed the request. I'll be sure to send in a picture. I'm so glad you spoke up all of those years ago. Look at this wonderful thing you've created!
I can really relate to this. It wasn't Newsweek, but I posted my story on my personal blog yesterday and "came out" about my PPD to friends and family. It was really scary. I felt great the moment I hit "publish" but in the following moments had several instances of "what have I done???" A few friends and family emailed to say they were proud of me, which I really needed to hear.
Very interesting post on an issue I always find myself thinking about – coming out openly about what I went through. Here's my predicament, any thoughts would be appreciated: What if you went through postpartum psychosis(and we know how stigmatized that ppmd is) and what if the field that you work in is one that involves children – young children. In that case, is it better to come out openly or share what you went through using pen names and such?
Great question. I think in that case you'd
have every right to keep it to yourself,
not because there's any reason you shouldn't
be working with children of course, but
because there's an unfortunate stigma that
exists and I'd hate for you to have your
livelihood impacted negatively. I didn't
speak up while I worked at Coke, and that
had nothing to do with children. I think
women have to be smart about how and where
they share. I am fortunate that I am in a
position where I can speak freely. That's why I italicized the words "if you can" in my
post. If you are in a situation where you
can, please do. If you aren't, don't feel
bad about it. Not one bit.
I'm so glad to hear you received positive
feedback. Makes all the difference in the
world when you get that support, doesn't it?
I will say this, to anyone thinking of but to scared to relate their story…DO IT. On facebook (and my blog) a while back I published my story, or what I could remember of it (the whole first year with my son is a big blur) I heard from MANY people that I knew asking WHY DIDN'T I SAY SOMETHING SOONER!!!
Tell your stories. Sure, there might be some a*hat that wants to make a stupid comment…but overwhelmingly you will find more and more women who went through the same things and you will find support.
Trust me on this one.
i had a moment like this when i revealed my weight on my blog. not as large in scope, granted, but still pretty frickin' scary. turns out, people were a lot more willing to take me seriously once they knew that i could be completely honest, even when it was painful. it was a really good learning experience.
the stigma around depression will only continue to exist as long as we are quiet about it. it's just awesome to know that so many women (like you, duh:)) are willing to step forward and take one for the team.
Send us a link to your story!
You are far braver than I. Makes me laugh but I'm more willing to talk about mental illness than I'd ever be to talk about my weight.
Thanks for your candor in writing about depression!
When I was in the middle of PPD and anxiety I moved in with my parents for two months, in another province. I knew that people were wondering what was going on, so when I came home, I sent out an email to all of my friends and family. I decided that I would rather nip it in the bud and tell my story once, rather than having to go through the same explanation a zillion times. It was great because I could explain how depression works and start over with a clean slate and more support. I'm still not brave enough to post on facebook, but I think that day will come. 🙂
I can really relate to this. Although I have been sharing my struggles for some time, I still find myself hiding sometimes… sharing openly is so freeing, but also very scary at times.
I was honored to guest blog for Dr. Kathleen Young out of Chicago yesterday and I spoke on this same topic, if you would like to check it out: "Breaking the Silence for Mental Health" http://drkathleenyoung.wordpress.com/2010/05/20/b…
Thank you for your endless courage.