For Sale: One jeweled box, cheap


This week’s Red Dress post involved an assignment in which we had to write a Craigslist ad for something an ex had left behind. This is my submission.

For Sale:

A bejeweled box left behind by an ungrateful and anxiety ridden house guest.

Dating back to the 18th century, this box is pure silver. At first, the silver had a horrible tint to it and was covered by a dark grunge. The jewels, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and rubies, all lay hidden beneath the same coating of scum. A quick swipe with silver cleaner shined the box right up. So much so that I felt comfortable opening the box.

Opening the box is quite simple. All you have to do is drop it and it pops open. Closing it, however, is a whole different story. In order to close the box, you have to complete a puzzle on each of the four sides and then finally complete a rather complicated puzzle in order to seal the box tight. It can also be costly because if one of the puzzles won’t close, you have to purchase an entirely new box along with a cheat set of keys. Even then you’re not guaranteed to be able to close the box.

I finally opened the box.

This box appears to be completely empty.

So why the hell am I here?

Rest assured this bedazzled box was once filled with horrid things like beating yourself up for your chosen type of motherhood, your decision to have children, your need for bonding in your relationship. Also in this box is a black veil. Even when you wear it out in public, you’re painfully aware of every stare, every whispered word, every single second of ever single day. Every step in front of others is excruciating. Why not just brand you with the letters P P D and get it over with??

If you manage to get the box closed without it affecting you, chances are you may drop it again. When you do, make sure you have others to help you close the frustrating little bastard.

For the bargain price of just $0.50, this box can be yours. I make no guarantees nor promises regarding the satisfaction or functionability of this box. No instructions will be sold with this box as no instructions came with this box. I’ll be available for support or chat if you need it after purchasing the box. No one should own this box alone.

Please do not purchase for children, infants, elderly people, new moms and husbands. Also do not purchase for gifts. In fact, unless you really reallllly don’t like them, and even then, don’t purchase this. I know, I know, what kind of salesman tells someone NOT to buy something? This one. This box is one twisted puppy.

To be purchased for your own personal use only, either as display or to destroy. We recommend burial instead of burning. Say prayers over this box before you get up .

Must sell QUICKLY. As in yesterday.

It is not okay to contact poster about any other issue here. I’ll only be talking about this evil, horrible trinket in hand.

Purchase with caution.

PANDA Perinatal Depression Video


I just watched the most amazing trailer for a Perinatal Depression Video, entitled “Behind the Mask: The Hidden Struggle of Parenthood.”

It’s done brilliantly, respectfully, and you HAVE to watch it. And then you have to share it with every single person you know.

This DVD is part of an initiative to get people talking about Perinatal depression in Australia. According to their profile at YouTube, PANDA is a national, not for profit organisation whose helpline provides confidential information, support and referal to anyone affected by depression and anxiety during pregnancy and after childbirth, including partners, family members and friends.

Thank you, PANDA. Thank you.

Go here to watch the video. Now. Why are you still here?

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His Turn…


This one gets personal for me. Very personal.

I am recovered from Postpartum Obsessive Compulsive/Depression. It’s taken some time and been a very hard and long road. The darkest depths witnessed me collapsed on the floor sobbing in tears after yelling at my husband in front of our then two year old daughter, fleeting horrible images racing through my head every waking moment, curled in the fetal position rocking back and forth willing myself to stay there so that I wouldn’t hurt myself or my children, and admitted to a psych ward.

The lessons I learned? Absolutely invaluable. While I wouldn’t wish my experience on anyone else in the world, I know that it was priceless and has truly carved me into the woman I am today. I know now that I cannot control what others think of me and I cannot give them permission to hurt me. I know now that God is with me and I feel his presence each and every day. I know now that I stand strong and breathe deeply because of His sacrifice for me. And I know that I will not let another family struggle the way mine has if there is something I can do to prevent that from happening.

All that said, my journey and growth is not yet over. Yes, I am recovered. But now it is my husband’s turnĀ  to collapse and my turn to support him, to show him the same compassionate understanding, loyalty, and guidance he showed me when I too couldn’t tell which way was up.

My husband was a drug addict when I met him. At the time I thought it was merely recreational and did not realize how deep his problems went. The use became worse after our second daughter, again, unbeknownst to me. Nine months ago I was involved in a car accident and quite a bit came to surface. He had been spending nearly $100/month on his habit while we were struggling to barely pay our bills. He hadn’t paid our vehicle insurance and I went to jail for his mistake. Together we hammered out a plan and got him to a therapist, a psychiatrist, and a faith-based recovery program. He is still sober today.

But we are now in what we’re calling phase two of recovery. Dealing with the nasty habits the drug use hid and the habits that are residuals of an addict like lying. On November 18th he told myself and his family he had been laid off from work. The Sunday before our son’s first birthday, I phoned his boss to find out if this was true. It wasn’t. He had resigned without another job lined up and lied to us about the entire situation. I played my conversation with his ex-boss for him. He called the state’s Mental Health Crisis Line and had an intake appointment made for him at a local clinic the very next day.

Meanwhile I was left to ponder our marriage. Every single shred of trust that had been rebuilt now lay in shards – descimated by one single act. How could he do this to us? How does someone seemingly forget they have a family to provide for? Why does someone do this? Do I stay and continue to be satisfied with the baby steps forward or do I flee? These are the hard questions I’ve struggled with for most of the past year.

We’ve lost just about everything and yet we still have faith and know that we will come through this – as long as we work at it together – something we both excel at. Give us a crisis and we can power our way through it in now time. This time around is a little harder and I am certainly shaken to my core. We have a lot of hard questions and choices ahead of us but I have no doubt that no matter what the answer is, we will both be able to survive.

The reason I tell you all of this is to ultimately introduce my husband’s new blog to you. It’s entitled Diary of a Real Man. He’s posted his first entry tonight and I would really encourage you to go check it out. Share it with others including any men in your life that may be facing similar circumstances and just need to know that they are not alone.

I would also encourage you to visit Married to Depression for a wife’s insight into what it’s like to live with a man who’s depressed. Another blog I’ve also started reading is The Junky’s Wife. She offers quite a bit of insight into what it’s like to live with an addict.