Mental Health

Dear My Thirties, First, let me just apologize. For my whole life leading up to this decade, I have been dreading this era. I vaguely remember a TV show called "Thirtysomething" that aired when I was younger, and I thought, "Geez, that's old." Those people looked like grown-ups. And in my youth, all grown-ups, from 20-something to 50-something, basically looked the same. It didn't help that when I was in my 20s, everything said about "Your Thirties" was always negative and in a daunting tone. Wrinkles. Vision problems. A hallmark year of aging and dread that would begin at just after 11:59 of my 29th year. I only now realize that I shouldn't have bought into all that crap. You deserved...

I’m not sad. I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time. My life feels complete, so why does my chest hurt? It hurts so bad, as though an elephant is sitting on it and I’m gasping for air. It’s kind of like that feeling you get when you spend a few too many seconds underwater. I’m not drowning. In fact, I feel as though I have everything under control. I’m so in control that I’m white knuckling my way through each day. I’m bending anyone who comes into my path to my will, and quickly becoming miffed with those who don’t meet my standard. That’s how postpartum anxiety manifests itself in my life. Control. The funny thing about control is the...

I wasn't the first in my group of friends to have a baby. I was the second. I had someone to go just before me on that narrow road, clearing all of the branches and making a wider trail, footsteps just deep enough for me to see the way forward. But our feet aren't the same size. My little girl arrived a year and two days after my friend's baby. For me, this situation was prime for comparison and I went to town. I compared EVERYTHING. Pregnancy, birth, feeding, baby, sleep ... and here's a shocker: I didn't measure up. My friend went into labor.  I was induced. My friend had a vaginal birth. They cut me open. My friend breastfed immediately. Like a champ. For over...

The low-point strikes again, except this time it was REALLY hard to get back up. Sometimes we get in ruts. And it’s NORMAL for everyone. The trick is getting yourself out. I’m usually pretty good at being aware when I’m in a rut and knowing how to get myself out of it. This one was different, this one was debilitating. Nothing really major happened to me, I just couldn’t keep going. There were a handful of reasons that may have caused the rut: overworking, not enough rest, duties of parenthood, maintaining a household, bills, etc. It gets exhausting. And if I’m not careful to balance the fun stuff with the hard stuff, I can get myself into a major rut....

We love therapy. There. I said it. Special instruction / general physical therapy? Intensive trauma therapy? Counseling for anxiety? Speech therapy? It may seem intense. (If you're counting, that's 7 therapy sessions a week!) But we believe that early intervention makes a huge difference. I have sat and watched my kids struggle. Struggle with speech, or anxiety, or the inability to regulate their own behaviors. I have searched the internet for hours on end and tried every tip and trick I could. I have asked friends and in Facebook groups and weeded through the advice to find the golden gems. But nothing compares to the trained eye of a therapist who learns YOUR child and HER needs, who is able to glean bits of information from the...