“…having gone through crazy postpartum depression and anxiety I can’t tell you how nice it is to know that there are people like you- good people who can be honest about how mental illness is real and isn’t our fault. Sometimes, even though you know you’re just fighting your own brain, it hurts like hell and you don’t know if you can go on the way you have been.”

I went back through the other night and responded to emails people had sent me over the last few months, thanking me for something I had written, for being honest about the ugly nuggets in certain areas of my life. Some were over four months old. But I needed to thank you for them and apologize for having my head so far up my butt I could have performed some major personal surgery.

“I just thought it would be ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY, FREAKIN IMPORTANT to tell you…. That I am probably one of a gazillion people whose life you’ve made a smidgen better because you’re in it.  You are one of very few people that have the ability to teach others to just be themselves. And that is a very rare trait to have. The several of us that are better because of you… we thank you.”

While I did read them when I received them, I didn’t necessarily comprehend them.

“I’ve been an avid reader for quite some time but don’t comment very often. I read your post “being your mom with depression” and cried with relief that there was someone else out there who goes through what I do.”

Anyone who’s dealt with depression or any kind of crazy knows that it feels as though it will never end, and people telling you “this too shall pass” or “get over it” kind of make you want to shove things up their bums as well.

“Maybe it’s not much, maybe it’s not enough…but your words got me brave enough to say it, at least here. Thank you Casey for being you and for making me laugh and cry and smile and for teaching me things I didn’t know about turkeys and faith and most of all for sharing “the faking” on a day I was thinking of how well I’m “faking” my life. Thank you for letting me know that maybe I’m not totally alone.”

I guess what I wanted to say is that when you get that feeling to write somebody something heartfelt or out of genuine concern, just do it. If they don’t respond chances are it’s not because they are a jerk. It’s probably because they’re suffocating. And when they can breathe again? I hope they’ll give you the thanks you deserve. I for one feel I can never repay those who have taken time out of their lives to thank me for doing what comes so naturally to me.

“I’ve been reading your blog for a few months now, and I love your candid, unapologetic posts. The way you’ve written about your mental health has really had an impact on me. I’m bipolar, and only a few people in my life know…Thank you for writing the way you do about this topic. It really helps to know that I’m not alone in this, and I wanted you to know that you aren’t either. Reading your blog helps. Thank you.”

I hope one day I can give you all the thanks you deserve. I’d have you all over to my house for milk and cookies if I could.

“Thank you for putting yourself out there and sharing your heart with us. I am certain that those of us who have journied through the dark days of infertility/depression and those currently walking the road, are encouraged to know someone else shares their unspoken feelings/thoughts/emotions.”

If you met me for the first time over the last 6 months? That wasn’t me. Can we get a do over please? For those of you who stuck it out with me? Thank you. Thank you a million times over. You are the stainless steel in my kitchen of life.



  1. Sweet Casey. You are good people. Your honesty and candor are refreshing and appreciated. You’re not preachy. You don’t judge. I laugh, cry and get inspired when I come here. You’re a blogging trifecta! Save a hug for me at Blissdom?

    Casey Reply:

    @Melanie @ Mel, A Dramatic Mommy, YAY! You’re going to be there! HURRAH! Hugs saved. One of the really good ones where I stand on my tiptoes.

  2. Beautiful, Casey. As are you.

    Casey Reply:

    @Angella, I’m rubber you’re glue what you say to me bounces off me and sticks right back to you.
    (You know what I mean.)

  3. I think you’re phenomenal. I’m not yet married and not yet a mom, but I seriously believe what you write will help me be better at both when I get there.

    (And I haven’t gotten to meet you for the first time, but I want to!)

    Casey Reply:

    @Kim, I’ll share my medication too, then you’ll have ALL my secrets.

  4. @Casey, @Casey YES! I’m first! Do not let ANY OTHER female hug you for a creepy long time before BlogHer10, ok? I’ll see you there!

  5. Very cool, Casey. Very cool. Much love to you. xo

    Casey Reply:

    @Maggie, dammit, Right back at you sugar pea.

  6. I imagine there’s got to be someplace in Indy that has good hot chocolate and cookies. Next time I’m in Indy, I’ll let you know. ‘Cause I think you’re pretty cool, too. I’d buy you a beer anytime – but you seem to lean toward milk and cookies.

    Casey Reply:

    @lceel, I know a swell joint for milk and cupcakes. And ooh! I know an even more swell place for cookies! MY HOUSE! (BYOB though, fresh out of that stuff unless you’re hip to the root variety.)

  7. @Adventures In Babywearing, Eggs are required for most cupcakes. So in a roundabout way it totally works. So excited for Blissdom.

  8. @Casey, You’re right, it is pretty simple. I just have a hard time looking someone in the eye and putting the feelings into words. It’s easier to blog about it than it is to actually say it out loud, for some reason.

  9. And when is Blissdom this year? Perhaps I shall join just to get a little more face-to-face Casey time. Because I think I like you no matter where you fall on the depression scale.

    Casey Reply:

    @Must Be Motherhood, OOH YOU SHOULD TOTALLY COME!!!
    It’s the first weekend in February.

  10. Can Bossy come for milk and cookies? You know, just for the fun of it?

    Casey Reply:

    @BOSSY, Of course! You can even bring your own wine, and judge the paint job on my walls.

  11. I see you’re speaking at Blissdom. I’m not registered for the conference and most likely won’t because I’m frugal as a motha*. BUT, I think I’m going to try to come to Nashville that weekend. We must meet. 🙂 (I did not intend for that to sound creepy, if it does.)

    Casey Reply:

    @Amanda of Shamelessly Sassy, You come. We eat food. The universe smiles. (Uh, the workshop I’m speaking at is only $40…)

  12. I don’t know what to say, so I will just give you a big ol’ kiss instead


    If I don’t raid Indy beforehand I will see you in a month in Nash-Vegas where we will be dancing on bars and copious amounts of Diet Coke will be consumed and possibly twinkies.

    Casey Reply:

    @Heather @ Domestic Extraordinaire, That reminds me of the great Blissdom Diet Coke run of 2009.
    6 jumbo Diet Cokes. Two hands.

  13. It’s nice to see the Casey of old come back, but the Casey of the last six months was just as awesome and special.

    Casey Reply:

    @Avitable, “special”

  14. I love you more than I can say. I will always be here. Always.


    Casey Reply:

    @sam {temptingmama}, Oh Canada. So far away.
    I need a darn passport.

  15. You are so lovely, both inside and out. I just had to say.

    This is my first ever comment — I usually just pop in to read — but can I come for milk and cookies anyway? 🙂

    Casey Reply:

    @Nenette, Of course! Cookie invites are always open. Unless you say something about a diet, then I’ll shove Creme Brulee down your throat and make you cry uncle.

  16. You are so golden and it kills me that half the time you don’t even know it.

  17. This is why I sent you an email asking if you’d participate in the 2010 (online) Mother’s Day Rally for Moms’ Mental Health. Haven’t heard back. Begging. Please? Pweeze? Fleas?