There was a time, not that long ago, that the world spun around me and I stood still. There was a time when the season was bright and full of more life than it had been all year, but I was a hurricane. It was either storming or cloudy. The sun didn't come out all summer, even though outside it shined daily.

I genuinely felt like I had lost who I was. I had never been so emotional, so hormonal, so depressed. For weeks and weeks at a time, I don't think there was an hour that went by that I wasn't crying for at least five minutes. My world was a never ending a whirlwind of either crying, breastfeeding, or crying while breastfeeding. I remember the single most important question I had asked any doctor, therapist, psychiatrist, or OB/GYN, "Will I ever get better?" I searched the Internet for recovery stories; I read every book on the topic I could get my hands on. I searched far and wide for the answer to my question, "Would I ever be me again?"

Postpartum depression affects around one in seven new mothers, each with different triggers, symptoms, cases, and levels. Some women cry for a month, others for 14. The way your body handles your hormones after you have a baby and start breastfeeding, almost mimic the emotional roller coaster you go through before hitting puberty. A woman's body is working around the clock to try and get on a normal cycle. It craves stability, but it doesn't know what routine to get into, and the hormones being released can be counterintuitive to the changes around us in our environment.

If you've ever seen the episode of "Full House" where Aunt Becky was crying over mixing up booties and not knowing which twin was which, that's how all new moms feel for the first six months — If they deny it they're lying. We have no manual, we have no rule book, sure we can study but each child is different. It is an enormous emotional and psychological transition that takes more than the nine months of pregnancy to mentally prepare for.

In essence, what I am telling you is, you are normal. You are so incredibly normal. Every nightmare, every crying session, every intrusive thought, every meltdown, every panic attack, you are normal. And I wish someone told me this sooner.

I wish someone told me I wasn't crazy. I wish someone prepared me and my then partner for what was to come emotionally. I wish someone had looked me in the eyes and told me in true detail the extent to which they too suffered so I knew I wasn't alone, I wish they had told me what they did to get better, that they had told me I would get better.

But they didn't.

There is such a stigma about being a new mom, that we have to come out and do it perfectly; That we have to have designer baby clothes, exclusively breastfeed but be covered, or use formula but only a certain brand, to use only the best diapers, to co-sleep or not to co-sleep. This kind of judging is horrible. We built up this image that new mothers are supposed to know exactly what to do and look perfect while doing it. Come on guys, we're supposed to breastfeed and vacuum and fold laundry at the same time while letting the dog outside with our foot because our hands are full.

We're painted in an image that depicts us so we have to be Super Woman, but no one tells us that we already are. You just spent nine months growing a human, you pushed — or were cut open to retrieve — a living, breathing human out of your body. How superhuman is it that you can make humans inside of you? How blasphemous is it to expect that pregnancy, childbirth, and new motherhood, is not at times, an emotional roller coaster?

There would be times when I would be talking about how cute my daughter was in pink, sparkly shoes one second and crying the next because I was tired and couldn't sleep. I'd cry over Family Guy episodes or not being able to take a bath, or just crying for the sake of crying, and then my daughter would coo and I'd laugh again.

But some days, I couldn't do it all. Somedays all I could do was take care of her. Somedays I couldn't be supermom. Somedays, I had to ask for help so I could take care of her and me.

However, I want you to know. . . it gets better. You will get better. I wasn't told me this, but it did.

During my pregnancy my anxiety was so bad I couldn't go into a grocery store, I had panic attacks at large gatherings and cried during arguments over TV shows with my significant other, insisting that he didn't care about me because he wanted to watch the Walking Dead instead of the Kardashians — yes, this actually happened.

My point is, no matter how crazy and alone and wacky you feel, you will heal if you put in the work to do so. I searched far and wide for those answers.I read every book, traveled hours for a postpartum specialist, I even asked to go to the emergency room so they could "fix me". I cried and told the doctors I must have been crazy and they pretty much laughed at me and told me how normal it was, but no one told me about postpartum before it happened to me.I took the medicine, I went to therapy, I read, I followed all the instructions given to me about how to recover from postpartum.

And one day at a time, I did.

It started with hanging out with friends, staying home alone, driving to the library. It started with running in the store to get ice cream. It started with talking about things I liked and laughing at funny cat videos. It started with walks around the neighborhood with my daughter and watching her light up as we read "Goodnight Moon" over and over and over.

And now, at almost eight months postpartum, I want you to know, I am almost completely me again.

I can now spend hours in the mall, to the point you have to literally pry me away from the sale racks. I can drive all over town running errands and go out with my friends for girls nights. I can take my daughter to the pumpkin patch, and I make crafts with her. I sit down with her and we do lots of sensory play. I can focus on my work and passions, and I dance and run again. I truly am able to walk, talk, and think the way I used to. I wake up every morning now with the idea of all the things I can do or the things I can do with my daughter when five months ago I woke up asking God to please help me get through another day.

Postpartum doesn't last forever. There are resources to get through this are available to you, and if you are committed to recovery, you will recover. It doesn't happen overnight, and not everyone will be supportive. You will still have an occasional meltdown and cry listening to Taylor Swift. You will still have all sorts of crazy hormone changes like one second be dying for a babysitter and the next second begging your husband to try for baby number two because baby number one can now crawl.

So to anyone who is a new mom and is going through postpartum, or to anyone who loves a new mom that is going through postpartum,

Healing will come.

The sun will shine again.

And you will be you again.

You will get to be the mother and woman that you want to be and anyone who doesn't see you through this isn't worth a second look. You just grew a whole human, of course, you're going to be emotional. Yes, you're going to freak out about carrying your baby down the stairs because you think you'll fall and crack both of your heads open. Of course, you're going to watch romance movies and cry. Of course, you're going to think you're a blob and your husband doesn't love you — trust me, he's still attracted to you.

What I am telling you is, you will be you again. So I want to tell you now is, do not give up. Find the resources and use them, but the best advice I can ever give you is, "The grass is always greener where it is watered." You have to take care of yourself in order to take care of someone else. Self-care is so important but it's so readily neglected. Go to a movie with friends, go to therapy, get a pedicure, or just get a babysitter and take a nap. Do whatever you need to do but do not neglect you.

There was a day in July, the hardest day of my life when I begged and pleaded for doctors to help, who I told I must've been crazy and would never get better, who laughed and told me I was so normal, that I did not think I was. I truly thought, I would never get better. But I want you to know that I'm 90 percent there, and you will be too.

There are hard days, easy days, fun days and happy days, but do not despair. You will be you again, so please be gentle on yourself. You're a great mom, you're a great person, and you're doing the best you can. So just remember, there is light at the end of the tunnel.