At the airport, on my way to Las Vegas to teach an all-day training about my postpartum depression/anxiety support group curriculum, this quote by Jen Hatmaker cracked me wide open:
“I’ve chosen the wilderness because it is where I can tell the truth…and gather with my fellow outsiders, but this limp will remind me of the cost, what lies behind me, what will always feel a little sad and a little bruised. Was it worth it? Unquestionably. And I hope the limp shows my fellow wilderness dwellers that I’m acquainted with pain and didn’t make it out here unscathed either. Outliers, I suspect it won’t hinder our wilderness dance party in the slightest.”
I’d been focusing on the stuff—the slides, the shoes, the snacks—to give myself some distance from the fact that I’m actually going to be teaching about something very vulnerable: how I clawed my way out of postpartum depression (with my husband’s help) and how to help others do that, too. But that vulnerability is my greatest strength, and I will sing about it as long as I live, so that others will know they are not alone.
At the training, I had the privilege of chatting with almost everyone who came, thanks to a glitch or two with technology, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise! I can’t tell you how encouraging it was to meet doulas, lactation consultants, WIC counselors, a yoga instructor, and other social workers who wanted to start support groups for moms and/or dads. This was literally a dream come true! I am working to plant the seeds of this group in as many places as possible so that as many parents as possible can access help for PMADs. One mom who is currently working through her own struggle said that when she’s been in recovery for a year, she’s going to start up an Afterglow group. I am so so proud of her, that in the midst of her pain, she is already looking to see how she can make meaning out of it and help others. Wow.
No matter what you’re going through, there are others ahead of you on the path. Follow their lanterns, even if you’re still limping. There’s a dance party waiting for you.