To Whom it may concern,

My name is Ellissa Salm. I am writing this statement to provide background information and explain how my life has been impacted in the past several months. I will start from the beginning and go sequentially in order. In January of this year my other half and I were in a major car accident. The date of the accident was January 13th. My car was totaled and at the time I was 21 weeks pregnant with our first child, Kolton. Thankfully our son was okay but it took hours just to figure that out being in the ER. It was a very stressful time. After the accident I realized I may have been injured. Being pregnant there was only so much the doctors could do for me, as they could not do as much testing as needed. I was taken out of work at 8 months pregnant for the amount of pain I was in. Fast forwarding past the joy of delivering my son, we came to the point we have all been waiting for: a week later after Kolton was born I spoke with my care physician who sent me for x-rays of my spine and hips for further insight. For months I had been dealing with weakness, immobility, excruciating pain, emotional distress and despair, and a general lack of strength. Of course I had just blamed my pregnancy. Being a first time mom I was thinking it was normal. Little had I known that at six months pregnant I suffered from a fractured spine.
When the results came back it had all made sense, the months of struggling to do the simplest task such as going up stairs or getting into a car. The debilitating pain I experience on a regular day is something no one should ever need to endure. Due to this injury, many things have been negatively impacted. As a very active, independent, outdoor-loving individual it shattered me to hear this news. I can no longer lift things on my own. I cannot run and jump. Laundry has to be divided into little piles so I can carry it down the stairs to the washer and dryer. Everything I could once do effortlessly has now become an obstacle, reminding me of my injury. Carrying my now ten pound son is becoming a painful difficulty. After the news my other half had to return back to work, as he only had a week off with our son and I. On top of struggling with a new baby, I became overwhelmed and stressed with the weight of the things I could not do without him or someone’s assistance. The worst part about it was that they were all things that need to be done regularly in a household. Cleaning, moving things, lifting, groceries, laundry, and showers were all things I once loathed doing and they had no become something I desperately miss.
By this time of realizing the fracture I had already been out of work for two months, with immobility and pain, and all I have wanted to do since then was go back. I missed my colleagues, driving to work and complaining about the terrible driver in front of me. Then I realize I am out of work for another four months. I love the fact that I can spend this time with my son, but socialization is a huge part of my everyday routine and it has been vastly interrupted. My social life has now become inexistent. I was on freeze frame as soon as my other half left for work. There were days where he could come home and everything would look exactly the same, even my appearance and clothing. I sat in a house I could not clean or care for, and all it did was scream how bady the regular chores needed to be done. There have been nights where I cannot sleep because I know there are dirty dishes in the sink still, then I would become upset at the fact that the reason they are still there is because I can only stand over the sink for a few minutes and can only get so many dishes clean in that timeframe. I was emotional, stressed, cooped up in our second floor apartment, fatigued and I had cried every single day. It came to the extremes of my relationship that brought me to my nurse midwife, Patricia Otis. By this time I was beginning to acknowledge the fact that i was no longer myself, and when I looked back I could not remember a time when I was happy. Aside from taking care of my son, I felt as if I was failing at everything. Even school. After my sons birth I was dealing not only with newborn appointments and postpartum for myself, but after my diagnosis I was put into extensive long term physical therapy program which is three times a week. I expressed my feelings of emotional stress and worries with Pat and being the excellent provider that she is, she took over an hour to discuss everything. It was concluded that I was suffering from postpartum depression (PPD). By the time it was realized and when I came to terms with it myself, my relationship was in shambles, I had low self-esteem, no sort of energy, and not a clue in the world if it would ever be right again or if I was just going to crumble and fall apart. Pat is truly the one who saved me. As she knew me well enough to know how off I really was. It was a horrible day realizing that you are not as mentally fit as you want to be. I have heard and even knew those who suffered with mental illness, but I never once thought I would be one of those people.
The thing with PPD is that it feels so wrong, which makes it even worse. This is a whole new chapter in our lives that we should be enjoying and holding close to our hearts. As we have now become a family of three. I had a beautiful baby in my arms every single day to be thankful for and it was only then that I felt okay. As soon as he fell asleep and was laid down, everything would set back in again. Everything I couldn't do, the pain, the stress, the frustration, and the resentment for anyone who lived their normal life and went about their day in normal fashion. I craved to go to the gym or run to relieve my stress, as those have always been my outlet. I wanted to hike and go on trails and offroad in our UTV that we own. I wanted to be happy with my other half, and not argue over house chores and him being tired from his long day at work and not being able to help me as much as I needed. No one could. With all of this into consideration I began treatment with Pat that day.
It has been approximately a month or so since we started my action plan for my depression. I am still now in PT and will continue to be, as there is no graduation date established due to my class of injury, but I am making sure to keep a clear, open-minded head. At this time I am slowly starting to feel like myself. It is more as if I find snippets of myself, and I can smile and joke and be genuinely happy, but depression doesn't just “go away” with a pill. I have still days where I wake up and do not want to get out of bed, and times where the things I need to get accomplished truly haunt me. It is a slow process, and having days where you feel so low after just starting to feel like yourself are so discouraging. There are many days where I do not recognize my own reflection, my hair is not styled as it always once was, my nails are no longer manicured, my clothes are no longer flattering, you cannot tell that I have dimples because my constant smiling is now absent. You start to question your overall sanity during this time, as it feels like russian roulette with how you are going to feel when you wake up the next morning. This is what I have been struggling with in the past few months, on top of the stresses of school. Even after the birth of my son I still diligently attempted to stay afloat with the deadlines, and I struggled, something I have never once had an issue with. I had a wonderful, understanding professor who tried to accommodate but of course I could not expect that regularly. It came to the point where I failed out of school. I am posting my first ever journal to myself. This is when i finally found my form of expression, typing. My boyfriend and father of my child has now left me...weeks before I plane out and really start to be myself again, I am at that high low stage where my mind is regulating so ve had some pretty low, argumentative, lows. I cannot help it. I am exhausted from not being in control of myself.. I just wish we could pause and fast forward to me being me again and still have my man there with me. He truly is the love of my life, we bought a house, a dog and have a beautiful baby...and all of that has been torn apart because of this illness. I hate myself for this overcoming me and taking lead of my life and relationships.