When I look at this picture from last April, I just think how thin I look, and how over the next several months, my hair would fall out, and I would become downright gaunt. I was teetering on the brink of postpartum depression hell.
My mom visited me in early August a few months after this picture was taken. She is a frank person, at least when it comes to my appearance. The first thing she said when I picked her up at the airport was, “You look like you’re in chemotherapy!”
I certainly felt like I was dying. And in many ways, I was.
And that’s all I wanted to say. That I am very happy these days, but also sad about what happened in 2013. That I want to give the woman in the above picture a big hug. That I also want to punch her on the shoulder and say, “Get help! You have to be the one to do it: save your own life.”
I also want to tell her, Everything is going to be fantastic. You won’t believe what’s about to happen to you, but it is darkest before the dawn–and the dawn will be amazing.
I want to tell her, Everything will be okay. Everything will be okay. Everything will be okay. You are loved. You are loved. You are loved. And you have guts.
80,000 words 