Dear PPD,

You no longer have power over me, or my relationship with my son.  You no longer have the power to make me hate myself, the world, or resent anyone in my life.  Your manic tendencies no longer control my thoughts.  You are NOTHING.  You are a nasty, evil, vile disease that I am pushing behind me, leaving you in the dust, & you are receiving the world’s biggest, most victorious middle finger.  In short, YOU ARE MY BITCH.  I AM NO LONGER YOURS.

PPD, you stripped me of almost 9 months of my life & more importantly, my son’s life.  You beat me naked, down to my core until some nights, I was literally shaking in the bed & clawing at the sheets, begging for my life to be over.  YOU ABUSED ME, USED ME, & HURT ME.  & now, I’m standing up to you & taking my life back.  For months, I screamed & cried to have my life back.  Now, I have it.  I should resent you, hate you, & believe me, I do.  But I also know that every ounce of my energy is better spent moving forward & enjoying my life rather than wallowing in what could have been, what should have been, & what I wasn’t for the better part of 9 months.  Now YOU are the one, shivering in the corner while I giggle with my son over bathtime.  YOU are the one losing the battle while we snuggle & wrestle in the sunlight.  YOU are the one standing outside the nursery during the bedtime routine.  YOU missed out on splashing in the pool for the Fourth of July.  NOT ME.

I hate you for what you did to me.  I hate that there was no rhyme or reason & at times, I still scream WHY ME?! when I think of how it could have been like this from the beginning had you not come knocking.  But I also know that without those horrible, bleak, terrible days, I would not realize HOW DAMN GOOD I have it right now.  I feel like I am seeing my son for the first time.  Like I am seeing myself as a mother for the first time.  & you know what?  I am a good mother.  & my son is amazing.  I finally understand that love that parents gush about, that desire to wake up in the morning & see a toothless grin over the railings of the crib.  To not only wish for that moment, but to desire it down to my core until it is the last thing I think about as I fall asleep - I can’t wait to wake up to him tomorrow.

PPD, I know you are one pesky son-of-a-bitch & that you’ll do your best to be back in my life.  I know that I’m not healed, that I still have a long way to go, but I also know just how far I’ve come & that I feel like my back is turned to you in the best way possible.  I know that your vile, creeping, explosive anger & resentment are like a cloying disease, looking for any chance to creep back into my life.  You are there, waiting for me to give you an inch.  But you know what?  I’m waiting for you, too.

& I’ve got one hell of a leather whip to beat the shit out of you if you ever try to come back.

In short, GO TO HELL.  Satan’s waiting for you.

kindly eff off,
Blair