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.