I did not expect this. I was supposed to come home to a brightly colored nursery and blissfully breastfeed my daughter every two hours with sunny eyes, no sleep and still be happy. I did not expect nightmares, I did not expect shakiness, I did not expect fear, I didn't expect detachment, and I didn't expect the days that should be some of the happiest days of my life; to be some of the darkest.

To my daughters father: You bit off more than you could chew, and something had to give. I guess that something was me. I want in me to hate you so badly for the hurt you have caused me during my time of need by not being the man i believed you were, the man I loved, but I don't. I know it was hard for you to see me that way and that you were unhappy, I know it broke your heart to see the woman you pictured your life with crying on the floor because she didn't understand why she was feeling this way. Should we ever love again, I will be a stronger and less dependent person. I don't forgive you for leaving me during the darkest days of my life, especially since I stood through yours with you and would continue to do so. I don't forgive you for bailing on the plans we made for our future, or watching me crawl up from the pits of hell back to earth, instead of reaching for my hand you threw ashes in my face, but you inspired me to fight harder; because on days where I needed help and didn't have it from you, I helped my fucking self up off the floor. You have continued to be a great father while I am learning to love life again. But I want to thank you, for making the hardest thing I have ever gone through even harder, because when this is all over there will be nothing I can't handle, and I will know what I deserve when I am ready to love again.

To my daughter: You are the most beautiful gift I have ever had, I love you more than anything in this world. You won't remember the depression, but you will always have a stronger mommy because of it. There is nothing I will not see you through, nothing you can't survive without me by your side. I fought this fight for you; I fought everyday and am still fighting, to be the best mom I can be in spite of my depression. You have made me stronger than I ever could have imagined I was. I will see you through all your heartbreaks, keep you confident even if you try out for Level 3 cheer but only make level 2, and I will be your rock when you feel your world is crumbling because I promise you, with me by your side you will get through everything.

To my friends: Most of you don't have kids, none of you really have any idea even remotely what PPD is; but when you do have your kids one day I hope you remember what I went through, and if you find yourself in the same situation, call me anytime and I will be there. I will help you change diapers at 2 am, cry with you, help you find a therapist, I will be the strength to help you get through, because you were mine; even though you couldn't understand it. One day you may, and I will be your rock if you need me to be.

To the postpartum therapists: You have been my lifelines in guiding me to a full recovery, and while I am far from where I want to be, I get better everyday because of the plans you make for me, confidence you instill in me, and reminders that I am not alone or crazy. Therapy has truly been my saving grace, and I appreciate all your efforts to make this difficult time in my life less difficult by guiding me in the right direction.

To the outsiders looking in: Some of you are involved in the situation and shouldn't be, some of you have seen me in a state I never would ever be in if I wasn't depressed, and I hate that you have seen me not strong, not myself. You don't understand, and that's okay. Because I don't wish it on my worst enemy to understand what I am going through, but I know if you did understand you would be empathetic instead of critical. I hope you know that regardless of how you treated me during my struggle, should you ever go through the same thing or something similar; my door is always open. You will never be alone, never forget that

To my mother: Thank you for providing me with endless love and support, you are the strength that has pulled me through even on my darkest days you have been there reminding me who I am, reminding me to fight. Without you I would have no idea what I was doing; if I can be even half the mother you are, I will have succeeded. It takes a badass mom to raise a business owner national champion athlete and Cornell Student, anyone who would say otherwise is insecure about how their own kids turned out. Stay fabulous.

To myself: You are the definition of a badass. I am so proud of you. During the darkest days of your life you still manage to be the best mom you can be (MOST days) and when you can't, you make sure someone else can stand in lovingly. You stood your ground and took your life back, not only from toxicity but from depression. You continue to fight to take your life back and be the girl you used to be, the girl you want your daughter to embody. You are a strong female who, regardless of how the inner turmoil was killing them, rose above and grabbed their life by the reins to control it in a time that seemed so uncontrollable. When you look back and wonder how you made it through, please remember it's because YOU fought to get that way.

To the woman silently fighting: Talk. Talk to me, talk to your mom, talk to your partner, talk to your doctor, talk to anyone who will listen. If we don't start talking, it will never be normalized. If you were ever weeping on the floor wondering why you couldn't feel love for a beautiful baby you love very deeply; tell your doctor. If you find yourself scared to be alone with the baby, or scared to ever let anyone else hold your baby, tell your doctor. If you have intrusive thoughts or nightmares, tell your doctor. If you feel like you are an inadequate mother, tell your doctor. I was very scared to speak up, but once I did I realized just how normal what I have is, every doctor I have spoken with has assured me that, regardless of the symptom, every crazy detail of PPD is normal, and IT. WILL. PASS. Do not hesitate to seek treatment, call a therapist, get some meds, read about it, talk about it with other moms, and share your stories. It is our responsibilities as urvivors of PPD to normalize it, and share our stories.