PPD is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I hate this. I hate feeling so out of control and angry. I hate the urges to run out the door and never come back, to hurt myself, to shut myself in my room and hide. To get a head injury so that I might develop amnesia and forget my family and start over.
I hate the guilt I feel just for feeling those things. I hate myself. I hate that right now, as Savannah is crying to be fed, I am crying because I hate the feeling of her being on me every single hour (she's cluster feeding).
There are a million other things I hate; my weight, my anger, the world...but right now I have to go out of this room, smile, and be happy calm Mommy.
And that takes more strength than anything I've ever had to do in my life.


Postpartum in full swing