Yesterday, I was having a particularly rough time and whining to Mr. TFT about my anxiety, stress and exhaustion. His response? "Well, check out what I just sent you. Maybe that will help." When I opened what he'd sent me? I started crying, because, you guys? It was HIS side of MY story. HIS story, really. And it hurt to read. To remember the pain, the struggle, and all the things I missed. It hurt to know that I had put my family through that. But at the same time, it was a beautiful reminder of what I tell other moms all the time: You are not alone. Whether it's a husband, a friend, a parent, a sibling, or an internet support group you've never met in person (HOLLA to the other Postpartum Progress Warrior Moms). It was also a good reminder to myself not to feed the stigma that we are working so hard to break. Maternal mental illness is NOT something we put our families through--that implies, in my mind, an active choice. It's an illness, like any other.
And now, without further ado, Mr. TFT's story.