The following is a guest post from momAgendaCOMM blogger Beth Anne Ballance.
From the National Institute of Mental Health:
• One in four women will experience severe depression at some point in life.
• Depression affects twice as many women as men, regardless of racial and ethnic background or income.
• Depression is the number one cause of disability in women.
Only one fifth of women who suffer from depression seek treatment. One fifth of one in four, which means that in a room of sixty women, fifteen suffer depression but only three are getting help.
Translation? Women are suffering, hurting, bruised to the core…and not seeking help.
What is it about us as women that makes us vulnerable to depression, and then paralyzed to receive help?
Through our determination to be seen as strong, rather than the weaker sex, do we not recognize the symptoms? Do we push aside the exhaustion & irritability as “being a woman,” not understanding that they are signs of imbalance, just as much as tears? Or maybe that guttural instinct to “buck up” as a mother and push through, despite the nagging anxieties and cloying despair.
In the era of the supermom where we feel pressure to be an odd mixture of a June Cleaver housewife and a Martha Stewart business mogul, are we afraid to verbalize that we cannot do it all? Is there shame in that feeling that maybe, somehow, someway, we failed womanhood?
Or the shame that buries deep in our soul when the depression pulls us away from children and spouses and the focus of our life, but we fight a losing battle against it and we are too afraid to say, “I am sorry, but my heart is not here.” Women are not supposed to feel that way, are we?
Or perhaps the shame of the neighbor’s wagging tongue that has already weighed the label on our sweater, the car in our driveway, the organic qualities of our dinner, and the manners of our children. Dare we expose one more Achilles Heel to the harshest judges?
Is it the rising cost of healthcare in this downtrodden economy where some of us struggle to keep shoes on small feet and food in mouths? Perhaps it is a failure of the medical field to screen properly and then offer options. Or even the lack of options (did you know there is only ONE inpatient postpartum mood disorder clinic in the country?!). Is it because it is one more task on our growing lists, where small children cannot tag along?
No matter the cause, may I be as bold as to say this? Women, you are worth it.
If you are hurting and suffering and scared, please know that you deserve to feel better. It is not weakness that asks for help – instead, there is courage in the acceptance.
Beth Anne is a member of the Council of Media Moms at momAgenda. She’s a born and bred Southern Belle who blogs about motherhood at The Heir to Blair. You can also find her on Twitter.

BA – Your writing never ceases to amaze me.
So proud of you for always being open and honest – and for giving other women a VOICE when they thought they didn’t have one.
xoxo
This post hits very close to home for me, so it’s interesting that it took a guest blogger to start talking about it here on my blog! I was one of those women who, for years, thought my debilitating sadness was just a part of motherhood. Thank goodness I finally got myself help after a particularly difficult period in which I barely got off the couch for 2 weeks. The problem for me was not that I didn’t think I was worth it; the problem was, I didn’t know I was sick. I hope that by reading this post, there are moms out there who will realize that depression is an illness that requires treatment…. not a weakness to be ashamed of. Thanks Beth Anne for nailing it.
Thank you for shouting this from the rooftops so eloquently. For speaking truth with authority and for being transparent.
For me, it is a combination of all of the above. But first and foremost it is an inner shame that eats away at my confidence. My greatest enemy is that mental illness is nearly always looked at as a flaw that the depressed person somehow caused. When you are one of the depressed you know it’s not true but if enough people treat you like that then you start to believe it’s true.