After a tearful therapy session today, my psychiatrist told me I’m an emotional gladiator. We were discussing the vast topic of loss – not just death, but failed relationships and the loss of much of my independence due to physical and cognitive issues over the past year. I’ve been mourning the loss of my ability to do all of the things I used to be able to do – like working full time or walking without a cane – but he told me, after reading my 4,000+ word essay on loss I wrote for him, that he admires how strong of a fight I’m putting up to do anything. He re-framed it for me, that I could have given up, given in to my ailments, told my clients I’m closing up shop and applied for Social Security Disability. (I would qualify if I wasn’t lucky enough to have my freelance clients.) But even though it’s hard, and I feel like giving up sometimes, I’m still in the fight.

I get why Katherine Stone calls all of us in her Postpartum Progress community warrior moms. We fight depression and other mental health issues. We fight stigma. We fight being judged for every little decision we make. We fight our own thoughts of guilt, worthlessness, and doubt.

We fight.

I’m in the arena, and I’ve taken a lot of hits. But I’m not done yet. There have been no thumbs down signaling it’s over. I’ll fight even when I’m too weak to stand. I’ll fight even when I’m sure I’m doomed. I’ll fight even though I’m sick and tired of fighting. Because the alternative is unacceptable to me.

What’s your fight?

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