Get in Loser, We’re Gonna Work On Our Depression.

It’s been a while yall. How you been? Me… uh, alright i guess. Look I wasn’t going to do this but a few months ago I posted something on Instagram about my suicidal ideations & that shit got mad attention & likes. It’s weird, like you wouldn’t think so many people would be like “yeah. same. me too.” I can only write so much on a caption so i decided to blog about it because also I feel like you guys miss me.

So for about 7 months & counting, i suffered thru very bad post partum depression. For those of you who don’t know, post partum depression is basically when your hormones stay weird after having a baby & you get all sad & shit all the time. I had also gone thru a traumatic time in my life where someone said some wild shit to me & it HURT. So basically, a lot was happening living in a toxic household plus a pandemic. It’s weird you know, the whole concept of mental health. Like you just…. end up fucked up & it’s not even anything you did. Like what in the entire fuck amirite? Whatever so, i got the shit end of the mental health stick. So i stopped writing. I also stopped showering, stopped doing my hair, stopped dancing. I stopped doing everything that once made me happy. I wanted to die. I felt everyone was better off without me. I don’t write this to have you feel bad for me. I’m writing this for the person who felt just like me & felt they were alone. So in the spirit of not fucking up my blog, i will tell you Five things that happened to me/helped me/hurt me while i was trying to heal.

I wanted to Die– I convinced myself that I shouldn’t be here. That all the negative thoughts were true. That I was fat, I was ugly, I was worthless, that I served no purpose. I really thought my son and my partner deserve to live in a world without me in it. I didn’t look like the Romyboattt before the baby. When i looked in the mirror I hated the person who looked back at me. If you saw the IG post, I said someone told me I was fat & ugly & mad mean things.. I really believed it to be true. I would hide in the bathroom with my family in the next room finding all the ways to try & end it all. Didn’t help that I lived in a toxic household with its own set of problems. Suicide was everything on my mind.

I would wake up crying – Yeah, & my fiancée would ask me what’s wrong & i’m like, I don’t know. I was just sad ALLLLLL the time. I would try to do things I love & I was still sad. My favorite snack, my favorite song, my favorite TV show, nothing worked. I just had like a permanent sadness. I wouldn’t laugh much. Wouldn’t talk to my kid much. I would just sit there sad. Change diapers, feed him, cry. It was so bad. & i’m not a bad mom, I just had no interest in being one (a symptom of post partum please do ya research before you come for me.)

I got tattoos– I needed something to help me numb the pain. Something that would hurt more than being depressed. A needle going into my arm at lighting speed? sure. I got 1 tattoo & i now have 15 & almost a completed sleeve. I stopped wanting to kill myself, but I still wanted to inflicted pain. My tattoos are fire tho, I just wish I had got them under different circumstances. In 3 months i went from No tattoos & 2 piercings to a sleeve & a double nose piercing. TATTED AF. But, the needle would stop & then the regular pain would still be there. You know.

I went on vacation– So, My fiancé didn’t know how to make me feel better with words so he said, wanna go to universal studios? He took me to Florida for a weekend. His sister babysat & we went on a Baecataion in the middle of a pandemic. I had the time of my life. For the first time ever. Nothing bothered me. I was happy. I didn’t complain about my weight. I didn’t cry. I showed myself mad love. I put on a Two piece. I hadn’t felt joy like that in so long. I needed that trip. I started feeling sad when I came back to NY & he just … booked another trip & everytime we went to Florida. I felt happy. It’s like depression didn’t exist in Universal Studios & in Florida. Anytime I got sad back in NY my friends would ask to see “Florida Rossy”

I MOVED TO FLORIDA– If you looking for a sign to go, this is it. I left the toxic household. I live in the only place that ever brought me joy during my darkest times. I am still healing, but I have had a taste of peace that I never thought i would ever have. I miss my friends & some family, but I had to GO. New York held pain that I had to get rid of, & let’s face it. I was never gonna life my Blair Waldorf life anyways so there was nothing for me there. I am on a path that I never thought i would ever be on.

You see how number one had you thinking there was no hope & number five probably made you cry because in one post you saw my entire growth during this past year. I’m still healing. I still have days where getting out of bed is the most impossible task in the world but it’s just bad days.. it’s not a bad life anymore. Depression will always be a part of me & that’s okay. I’m not ashamed of what I went thru. It’s made me a lot more wavy. I don’t share this for attention. I share my story for 2 reasons.

1. BE FUCKING KIND. stop being so mean to people because you hate yourself. stop being a cunt.

2. Somebody needed to read this as bad as I needed to write it.


I’m Rossy ( Row-z ). I am a mother and a writer. Im 28 years young and im still figuring myself out, but i realllly like the woman i’m getting to know. i love all things food, sleep & wavy fits. Im not even sure where i want to take this. My need to write is so much bigger than my need to understand why.

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