30 Days of #snapshotsforsanity

Blogger’s Note: Guys, seriously? I posted the wrong photo challenge photos the other day and none of you had the balls to tell me?! Aww, I’m kidding. It’s fine. No one probably even noticed. Apparently not even me. Hah! 🙂 Yeah, so here’s the post again, but with my #snapshotsforsanity photos. Because, um, that’s what it was supposed to be. Gah!

In September, I participated in the photography challenge called #snapshotsforsanity, started by Kimberly over at Sunshine Spoils Milk. A week or so into the challenge, I popped on here and came out about my own issues with anxiety and depression, briefly getting into how these problems have affected my past and are affecting my present (and future). In light of the attacks around the world, most recently Paris, you could imagine my anxiety is surfacing again. News outlets are reporting that the US has been threatened by ISIS. Of course, I fear for safety—mine, my son’s, my husband’s, my family and friend’s, the country’s, the world’s.

But I already wrote about the attacks and how I feel. This post, an empty placeholder sitting in drafts for months, was reignited by my emotional reaction to that week.

Shortly after I wrote about my anxiety and depression, I set up an appointment with mental health as a part of my plan to right myself after feeling off since Joey’s birth. Despite the fact that I’d seen someone before and after my son’s birth, that someone had left the practice in the time between then and now. The receptionist set me up with someone new—promising that I’d “love him”—and booked an appointment six weeks out.

Let’s fast-forward to the day of that appointment. The morning starts off with my husband calling me to tell me that our son took his first tumble off the couch onto the hardwood floor—head first. It’s safe to say my anxiety was high. An hour later, I head to my doctor’s office during my lunch hour for my mental health appointment. I get to the check-in desk, and they tell me my appointment was cancelled.



To make a long, angry, and ranting story not so long, angry, and ranting…because I had missed my last appointment with my last therapist, and she had left, I needed to see someone new, so I was classified as a new patient. And they were fully booked. Waving the old “not accepting new patients” flag. Which included, now, me—the new patient. The rude lady I spoke to at the mental health front desk claimed to have called me (they didn’t). She claimed to have also sent me a letter in the mail (they didn’t—and even if they did, I can’t think of another department where that could be more inappropriate…I mean, think of the types of illnesses you’re treating). She threw a piece of paper with out-of-office suggestions and told me I would have to find help elsewhere.

Right. Because that’s exactly what I want to do. Call up someplace else that I’m not comfortable with and wait another several months before seeing someone. Fantastic.

Needless to say, I haven’t made an appointment. Should I have made one by now? Probably. Will I survive without one? Yes.

It’s December, which means it’s winter. The sunshine is barely there when I head to work in the morning and long gone when I leave to come home. Christmas is right around the corner, which brings about its own anxieties about money and expectations. Joey is growing so fast, crawling and standing. We are trying to do food, and I am struggling with baby-led weaning, and am shifting gears and feel that is my fault. There are a lot of changes happening where I work, which can be stressful. And I’m finding that I’m being triggered by things I normally wasn’t triggered by before in the infertility/miscarriage/parenting world, and that is all throwing me for a loop as well.

So, yeah. There’s a lot going on in this brain of mine. Most of the time I think I’m handling it fine, and I can convince everyone else that I’m handling it fine. But then I have one of those days in which I have an outburst and withdraw and need to figure out where I am and what I’m feeling and how I’ll get past it.

And…I think I’ll continue to write about it. Not tonight, though. Tonight, I have a sick baby who needs tending to and an attempt at some sleep. Tonight, I’ll leave you with my 30 days of #snapshotsforsanity.

(Stay tuned for more photos: I did another photo challenge for November, and will share those with you next week!)

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October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, with special observance on October 15th. I've accepted the path I had to take to bring Joey into my life. I can't accept any other reality because there isn't another in which he would exist. I will forever be grateful for the friendships and opportunities that my unfortunate past has brought to me. But that doesn't change the fact that I went through a lot of heartache, tears, anger, hopelessness, depression, and frustration when I had my two miscarriages. It doesn't change the fact that my heart sinks every time someone asks if Joey is my first. It doesn't change the fact that some days, I wonder if those two years were just a really horrible bad dream. #motherafterloss #motheraftermiscarriage #recurrentpregnancyloss #recurrentmiscarriage #gopinkandblue 👼🏼💙💖

A post shared by Samantha Keenan (@sammipants08) on


3 thoughts on “30 Days of #snapshotsforsanity

    1. Yeah, I didn’t handle it well! I got in the car and called my husband in hysterical tears. It took a lot in me just to make the phone call, and a lot more to NOT cancel the appointment and actually show up. I was devastated. 😦


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