Worst case scenario

When I was in middle/high school and my anxiety really started to rear its ugly head, my mother used to tell me to think of the worst case scenario, and how I would deal with that, then, if I could deal with that, I was ok.

So when dealing with my PTSD and it's ensuing symptoms over the years, my worst case scenario was always that I would reveal myself to someone, and they would reject me, or think I was crazy, or worse, feel sorry for me and think I was weak.

If there's one thing I've never been, it's weak. I remember some dumb bitch (I'm sorry ladies, that's really the only way I can refer to her, and I save that moniker for really...dumb bitches), said "I have always had a problem with victims" when speaking about me. I LOL'd ya'll. This chick didn't know me from Adam, but here she was labeling me a victim for explaining to her that there was bullying going on in our league. Ok, I thought, I can go about this two ways, I can go OMG HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A VICTIM BITCH I WILL CUT YOU. Or, I can say calmly "I've never been a victim. Even when I was," smile coolly and walk away. I did that. Or the email version of that. I felt better afterwards.

SIDENOTE, that was. To explain that that was one of my worst case scenarios. I think I handled it pretty well. 

But here we are in another one.  I have PPD. THEY SAY (am I overusing the caps?) that people with past trauma, traumatic births, history of depression etc etc etc, basically everything I am, are more likely to have PPD.

I didn't want to hear it, I begged my mind to not put me through depression again. And then, roughly 8 weeks out from Daniel's birth, I couldn't stop crying. I started having suicidal thoughts again. No, as those of you who know me well will know, I am not ashamed of that, nor should I be. It's a symptom of a disease, just like someone with diabetes shouldn't feel ashamed of their high blood sugar, that would be ridiculous.

The mental health professional in me went "Time to get help." So I did. I went in for an evaluation, they told me what I already knew, and referred me to a support group and medication.  I am taking the medication, yes it is safe for breastfeeding, and yes it is helping.

But before that, I was told "Why can't you just snap out of it? It's bad for the baby." Dismissive and blaming in the same breath, and I adore this person, but I cannot make them understand, and I refuse to have to explain myself all the time.

So, someone doesn't understand and said something stupid. I have forgiven that. But I want my son to grow up with an understanding of people that will keep him from making this mistake.  And I realized the best way to do that is to go back to being me. "Me" would hang out with people to whom I never felt like I had to explain.  Even when I did stupid stuff and had no explanation except to shrug and go "I'm going through something right now," I was surrounded by nodding heads and "ok, wanna get together friday"s.  I have to go back to these people mentally, if not physically.

Unfortunately this means I may leave others in the dust (mentally, if not physically), like I have done before, and I always do.  Growth sometimes leaves heartbreak in it's wake, unless the hearts that could potentially break are willing to grow with you. I'm struggling with that. It's somewhere I had hoped I would never be again, and I'm done forcing things.

To be continued, as I am late for my therapist. They always write down that you're late and book it as a symptom. Wouldn't want that.

<3