"It's almost like I feel you carry me"

In the months after my daughter's birth, things started...changing.

And I'm not talking about the hanging skin, gory stretch marks or milk, uhh, seepage. I'm talking about the internal. Some called it post-partum. Others said lack of sleep. A few thought I was sad, and time would lick the wounds and scab everything over. I was more than sad. I was completely empty. The chemicals in my brain I needed to feel [alive], died off and dragged the person I was, with it.

The following months, while holding the precious cargo I'd worked so hard to protect in utero, pieces of the life I thought I wanted, disappeared. My mind drifted to the darkest of places and burned a fire plaguing the growing hole in my heart. But we're not suppose to talk about that. Because people will judge you and stick you in a box and label you. So you just shut your mouth and fade into the air. Like you never existed. And you start to believe, everyone would be better off, without you.

For nearly two years, I crawled along the cold bathroom tiles with my husband banging from the other side to get through. But I couldn't hear him. I only heard the silence, and I only felt the pain. I wanted so bad to feel normal again. To feel anything but dead. To want to live. Luckily, rescue came in many forms for me. Friends, family, my husband and child. Writing, therapy, singing, and talking, thanks to TWLOHA.

There was a time, despite the bundle of pink cooing in the other room, I could have died. But I didn't. And I'm here, now, to tell you rescue is possible. Today isn't about the glass half empty, but about finding a way to discover the glass half full, whatever the means. Suicide is one of the leading causes of death in teens ages10 to15. Did you hear that? TEN and FIFTEEN. The prominent memories they leave behind, like a trail of puzzle pieces, are loved ones saying "I never even knew s/he was depressed..."

We're master manipulators. We'll tell you we're great when we're ripped down the middle. We'll laugh at your jokes and cry on the inside. We'll say we're busy so we can be all alone, and wish we weren't. We'll focus on the things that maybe don't matter to anyone else, but take the blame and punish ourselves and ruin the good things and make everything harder...BECAUSE WE AREN'T WHOLE. AND WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE, ON OUR OWN.

So today, my friends, I urge you to reach out to someone (anyone). If they've had a bad day, talk to them. If you know someone who's been feeling low, be there for them. Without someone to carry them, to catch them if/when they fall, they may never break the silence.

Blog peeps Justine Dell, Emily Reynolds, Candice Hughs and myself are all participating in the Out of  the Darkness walk on October 10th to raise awareness. We're asking you click on the link, type in one of our names, and donate just $1 to the cause. I've been so close to this, it still stings to remember. Help me, help those who've lost the battle or are still fighting alone, in the dark.

Okay, so it IS still me: headless, Brady-loving extraordinaire...

Candyland. OUT.
*Thanks to Lenny (GET WELL SOON!!!) and family for creating the banner*