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I shared this last year on
#BellLetsTalk day and I think it bears repeating.1 in 5 Canadians will be impacted by mental health concerns.
Being a counsellor/mental health professional doesn’t somehow immunize me from mental illness.
This is my story…
…When I began working on my Masters in Counselling Psychology. My desire was (and continues to be) to work with trauma, maternal mental health, and compassion fatigue/professional burnout.
In January of my 2nd year of graduate studies, we were blessed with the arrival of our second child. I soon recognized the signs and when I had my 6-week check-up, my OB confirmed my self-diagnosis — postpartum depression and anxiety.
Living with depression and anxiety is like wearing a too big sweater to bed, it tangles you up and you spend so much time wrestling with it you just can’t get comfortable. Just when you think you’ve got it sorted out, a rogue sleeve becomes entangled and you fight to get comfortable again.
My anxiety looked a lot like anger. The smallest things irritated me and I was increasingly short-tempered, frustrated, and probably not very fun to be around.
My anxiety looked a lot like intrusive (and really scary) thoughts. I couldn’t/wouldn’t fall asleep because I was listening for my husband, our older child, and our newborn to make sure they were breathing. I was constantly checking our senior dog to make sure she was still alive. I planned escape routes in case of fire and considered all the ways I could get a baby and child out of the car in the case of a bad accident. If my husband was 5 minutes later than I thought he should be picking up our oldest from school, I was convinced they had been in an accident.
My anxiety looked like an inability to cope with normal social interactions. Going to the grocery store took every ounce of my courage and more – there were so many times that I got to the parking lot and said “this time, I’m going in this time” only to drive away because the thought of navigating small talk at the checkout was simply too overwhelming.
My anxiety looked like believing that my friends and family would no longer want to spend time with me. It convinced me that if I turned down an invitation, there would be no more forthcoming. It convinced me that I would never feel better.
It was horrible.
It was debilitating.
It was my life.
As a counsellor, my job is to help people work through their mental health concerns. As a mom, wife, and friend, I have had to come to terms with my own struggle.
Friends, there is hope.
There is light at the end of the tunnel.
There is light at the end of the tunnel.
It isn’t always easy (in fact it is really stinkin’ hard most days) but you can do this.
You are worth it.
You are important.
You deserve to be heard.
Now, I know that my friends will forgive the many declined invitations, the lack of communication, the self-imposed isolation that came from feeling some days like it was a challenge just to take a shower, the days when putting on pants (other than pjs) was a huge victory, the days when facing other human beings was just too much to bear.

I am healthy now – my wonderful husband is one of those people who knows how to listen, support, and not pass judgement. He didn’t give me grief when I wanted to curl up in bed, binge-watch tv or declined family/friends’ invitations. He supported me. When I was ready to go back to the gym, go for a walk, eat healthy again – he supported me. I pray that everyone should have the kind of support I have had.
Although is was hard, I sought help. I talked to my friend who is a wonderful lactation consultant. I saw a therapist. I prayed. I did the things I knew would be helpful for me – journalling, exercise, eating well, basically practicing really good self-care and more importantly, really good self-compassion.
Please, if you are suffering, reach out.
Talk to someone you trust.
Find a counsellor.
There is no more shame in having a mental illness than in having a broken leg or bronchitis – you have an illness, it does not define you or own you.
We don’t know who is suffering in silence, who is struggling, or who has mastered the art of hiding their pain. The best thing we can do is listen. Be there. Don’t judge.
Together, we can make a difference.
– The Coffee and Conversation Counsellor
#BellLetsTalk #PPD #postpartum #mentalhealthmatters #coffeeandconversation