Okay, but this is actually super important. I’d love to see it spread to include men, too, since they are even less likely to seek help than women due to pervasive stereotypes about men and feelings.
Oh this makes my heart so so happy!
i’m so here for this
I an a male, I use antidepressants and mood levelers to make it though the day, and I am not ashamed.
Honored to be one voice, and one face, working to stop the stigma through the #snapshotsforsanity and #medicatedandmighty movements!
Read all about my epic Mom “fails” here: https://www.sammichespsychmeds.com/25-ways-ive-managed-to-ruin-my-toddlers-day-before-2-p-m/
Suicide Prevention Week isn’t over. Please get comfortable talking about the uncomfortable. Say the word suicide. Talk to your friends and family about suicide, and remove the stigma, judgement and shame from these conversations. Because what you say could save someone’s life.
It matters. We all matter.
What I did to become the World’s MEANEST Mom!
What do you think: Is breast always best?
Think you know what depression looks like? Think again; you may be surprised.
Honored to share my postpartum depression story over at Huffington Post.
Sure it may sound crazy, but porno mags have more in common with pregnancy and parenting mags then one would think.
If you are a new parent or simply struggling in your relationship, read this.
So honored to be over at Mamalode today speaking about the trials of tribulations of marriage, including that time I asked for a divorce.
For one moment, of one day, I got to be the fun parent; I got to be a super mom, and I love it. (I also got to experience a fraction of what it must be like to be tinafeyandamypoehler.)
I am thrilled to announce that my essay, “The Luckiest: My Marriage Survived Mommyhood,” is being featured on Mamalode today.
Author’s Note: In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month I want to bring attention to something that rarely gets any: the friends and family of sufferers, of survivors. This is for you.
I know those two words seem so small, and they are. They are nothing more than nine simple, basic characters, but I don’t know where else to start so I’m sorry; I’m so sorry.
There are things I’m not…
This past Sunday, Postpartum Progress, a national nonprofit that “raises awareness and advocates for more and better services for women who have postpartum depression and all other mental illnesses related to pregnancy and childbirth," held their…
When I dropped my daughter off at daycare for the first time last November I felt a pang of guilt not because I was leaving her alone, in a strange place with strange people, but because I didn’t feel bad about it. It was an intense, gut-churning guilt, like the kind I felt for not touching my father’s hand, for not kissing him on the cheek, as machines struggled to keep him alive 18 years ago.
Last Thursday I woke up to the sounds of my daughter chatting over the baby monitor. She babbled for a bit, laughed once or twice, and then said “mama.” It started as a whisper but before long she was yelling it, not aggressively but longingly — happily.
I went into her room, lifted her from her crib and held her for a moment before she squirmed out of my arms. I watched her run down the hall.…
If I am to be honest — brutally honest — I hate all these days, weeks, and months dedicated to a cause. Why? Because there are too many and, often, well meaning causes get lost amongst the clutter. (Did you know yesterday was “Oatmeal Cookie Day,” and it is also “Barbecue Month,” “Burger Month,” and “Lyme Disease Awareness Month?” Do you see what I am getting at here?) Needless-to-say I feel “Men…
I am humbled and beyond excited to announce that an essay I wrote, “It Gets Better…
I should start by saying I’m not pregnant with you, and I’m not having you (at least not yet).
It is not that I don’t want you; in fact, it is because I want you and want the best for you that I swallow a small blue pill every morning and deal with bloating and spotting and other strange side effects that are par for the birth control course.
I know that may not make sense, but it is not the…
If you asked me five years ago what I thought about running I would have said it sucked, plain and simple. Running was a tedious, monotonous, and damn boring task. I hated the thought of stepping on a treadmill and staring at my pallid sweaty reflection struggling to stay upright for fifteen minutes. I hated the idea of wasting half a day running, stretching, showering and stretching some more.…
Today’s reason for running, and writing, is simple: I do it for you, and for me.
Sure running is my “me” time and, with a 21-month-old, it is sometimes the only time I have to myself over the course of the day. (Even bathroom breaks are broken up by her antics.) But it is more than “for me,” as I now understand. It is for you too.
I have received some amazing texts, emails, and comments…
With the MORE/FITNESS/SHAPE Women’s Half Marathon less than two weeks away I wanted to share a bit more about why I run. (And since today is also #MicroblogMonday I thought there was no better time.)
Reason I run #1: Everything has a beginning, a middle, and an end, and if you keep pushing long enough and hard enough, you can often find your way out of anything.
Photo in Eltingville, Staten…
I’m glad it is finally April. I look forward to the new life, new growth, and the promise that comes with this “fresh” season. And in effort to grow myself I am going to return to a topic I have avoided the last few weeks, my personal depression journey.
For me, depression has always been a cycle of bad days and better days. There are good moments, even great moments, but I cannot recall what a…
I know what you’re thinking, what could a parenting and depression blog possibly have to do with porn? Well nothing, and everything.
When I was 14 I saw my first porno mag — in my father’s armoire. He had passed away two years earlier and I was searching for photos for an album I was making my mother. At the bottom of the drawer, beneath countless 4×6 packs of Kodak film, belts, and Father’s Day…