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So, I love Christmas. Always have and always will. But lately (meaning the last 5 years or so - and yes, my eldest son is 5), it just hasn't been the same. As a child, I remember it being so magical and fun. It was just idyllic. I really though that would be the way it was at my house too. Well, I'm here to say NOT SO MUCH!

What is it with the tone of a voice that individually wraps words in emotion? Let me explain. Today I was doing bill pay while my husband was breathing over my shoulder. And since I don't do it exactly the way he pays a bill, he says, "Why would do it that way?"

Now, I know you think this sounds like an innocent question, but trust me, it's not. It was the tone that sacrificed the innocence of the question. It became an accusation with just a slight variation on his voice and where the emphasis lies.

If you've ever wondered what postpartum OCD feels like, here it is. Melissa McGarry does an amazing job articulating the experience. I honor her strenth and courage for breaking the silence barrier!

http://drshosh.com/media/video-media/i-saw-myself-hurt-my-baby/

Be well!

So, I'm at Target today with Joshua (the 22 month old) finishing up the Christmas shopping. I know that I should probably go by myself to do these things, but I figure he still doesn't get the whole Santa thing, so I'm probably safe. Anyway, one of the things on my list for him is a 'ride on toy'. For those of you in the North, that may seem like a funny gift in the middle of winter, but here in North Carolina, we can still play outside many days in December.

My head is a crowded house lately. It's Christmas and I need to get my shit together, but can't seem to accomplish anything. I'm a gerbil on a wheel.

Last week I needed to send Christmas cards, balance my bank account (which is on cardiac arrest), and clean the house. Instead, I went down to the basement and drew three huge pictures on the brick wall. We host a New Year's Eve party every year and I thought it would look cool. It does look cool, but what the hell was I doing playing with chalk when I have adult responsibilities?

We went to visit Santa yesterday. It was a largely unsuccessful trip. Joshua (the 22 month old) was fine standing in line and looking at Santa from a distance, but as we picked him up to put him on Santa's lap, he started to FREAK out. I mean crying and screaming and straining to get away. Demian looked at my with apprehension, but I was like, put him on his lap damnit!

My husband has been working like crazy lately. I miss him and so do the boys. He's an amazing father for so many reasons, but one thing I especially love is that no matter what his day at work has been like, he is home to put the boys to bed if it is humanly possible. Most days I really appreciate that. Last night was not one of those times, because he was away on business and the fallout of me never doing the bedtime routine was huge!

I'm not sure if it's the long Thanksgiving weekend-with-wine or what, but I'm going to compare the postpartum experience to a drink. This may be wrong and offensive, but I'm going with it. I'm calling it "The Postparty".

Ok - I'm going to do it!

My story changed. I was convinced I had postpartum psychosis, but two therapists on the PSI board visited the site and read my story. Independently, they both reached out to say, "Kelly, from what I've read, it appears your experience was more OCD and not psychotic. The difference being, you were aware and scared of your thoughts. You knew they were wrong. Someone with psychosis wouldn't know they were wrong."

Keep in mind, they were not diagnosing me in any way, shape or form. Rather, they invited me to take a look at symptoms of OCD to see if that fit well with my personal exprience.