By: Kristina Peck, guest blogger

Hey there! I’m Kristina, nice to “meet” you! You’re probably thinking this is going to be your typical “mom blog” post, where I talk about spiced pumpkin lattes, and Pilates class, but you’re wrong!

I’m quite the opposite. I’m quirky, rough around the edges, and hate pumpkin spice lattes!

I’m quite simple, really. I’m a wife, a nurse, and a Warrior Mom. So, in other words, I’m a kick-ass caretaker 24/7/365.

I know I said I’m quirky, but I have to get real with all of the mamas out there..whether you’re a new mama, a seasoned mama, or a maybe a mama someday. I have to talk about something taboo. Something everyone tries to hide. Something a lot of moms are ashamed of. I’m here to shine some light on the topic of, “Postpartum Depression.” Don’t click that “X” in the top right corner!!! I promise this isn’t going to be your typical PPD article/blog.

I’m a “young” mom. I settled down early in life and was married, a homeowner, nurse, and mom by the age of 22. Some people would say I had it all: a home, a loving husband, a healthy baby, and a good job. If only they were able to live inside of my head, just for a few seconds.

I have struggled with depression just about my entire life. So, naturally, I expected the whole postpartum depression thing. I never expected the intensity it hit me with, and that it would take me down such a dark path.

I sat there on the edge of my bed, in tears, rocking my son’s bassinet.  I can’t tell you what I was feeling or thinking, because everything, including my mind, was numb. I don’t know what my, “breaking point” was, or how I got to that point, but there I was contemplating and deciding on ending it all.

I woke my husband up and told him I needed help. I told him the thoughts and actions I had taken. This 22 year old nurse, mom, and wife, found herself in the Emergency Behavioral Health Unit (or C-PEP) . Alone. No baby. No husband. No phone. Just much needed medication, a bed, and my thoughts.

Maybe it sounds relatable, maybe it sounds horrible, but I’m here to say, it’s not horrible and relating to my time is OKAY!

Mamas, it’s OKAY to NOT be okay!

My attempted suicide happened the day before Thanksgiving last year. I’m not embarrassed by it, and I’m definitely not ashamed, because I received the help I so desperately needed, and I forced myself to come back better, and stronger than ever.

Yup, I take anti-depressants. I see a therapist. I have a support team. And I KNOW it’s not my fault that I was struggling. PPD is NOT a reflection of the type of mother you are, or will be. It’s just a fancy way of saying your hormones failed you. You didn’t fail anyone or anything. YOU are AMAZING!

It has taken a LOT of support and time to recover mentally from my PPD, but here I am. I don’t beat myself up about it anymore because I have accepted that it’s just part of my story. It’s the way my body was meant to be. I’m okay with taking medication. I’m okay with having good and bad days. I’m okay with not being that, “perfect mom.” I’m okay with not keeping up with the Jones’s. Why? Because I was put on this earth to be unique. To be the absolute best I can be. To be a warrior. A warrior is exactly who I am.

There is no shame in asking for help. You are not less of a mother, wife, etc. You are a soldier fighting a mental battle. The best thing to do is accept it. Learn from it. Overcome it. You are remarkable my Mamas with, and without, PPD. Don’t EVER let anybody dull your sparkle, and always wear your struggles as a badge of honor. They made you who you are today…a Warrior Mom.