Letters to my daughter.. Part one.

You remind me of myself so much that it actually scares me.  My beautiful girl.  Here I was all those years ago thinking you'd been freed of the 'mental health' curse.  I couldn't get that lucky.  I blame myself for everything.  Your SA, your anxiety, your depression, your dark thoughts, your self harm, the constant urge to hurt someone or yourself so badly, suicidal ideation, mania - you and I are mirror images, and that scares me so much that I don't think I could ever be honest enough to tell you..

Your uncle seems to like to vilify and rehash the fact we let the ball drop and let a predator in our house.  I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for that, and each time he brings it up my tummy turns into knots.  It's unfair, yes, justified, not really, should he move on, yes but he can't.  Sometimes I just wish you had a normal uncle & auntie that loved to spend time with you without 'conditions' - 'oh you have to promise you won't do stupid shit, then you can come stay', 'oh, you're definitely not coming to stay now with that behaviour' - so much judgement from someone who was not an angel when he was young. Albeit, he didn't do things to hurt our parents, we had too much respect for them, but what they didn't know didn't hurt them and that stood firm..  The uncle I thought he'd be is nothing of which he is, that hurts me. And sadly, I know it hurts you to have so many conditions to be in his company. I'm sorry.

So far 2022 can kiss my ass.  It's been the most unpleasant start to any year since I got sick.  I know it's affected you and I am trying to keep a lot from you, I really am.  I am fiercely stubborn, but you my darling are too.  You're a warrior, I can see the fire in you - don't ever lose it.  I will be ok, I don't know in what capacity, but once I get some procedures done and maybe change up some medications and some hope I might just be able to walk properly.

Keep being you.  Do your silly TikToks, walk to the park & watch the water over the rocks, dress in your hippy pants & tye dyed shirt, sleep in your mickey mouse bedding, watch those horror movies (I'm proud of you!) eat those cornflakes and honey.. Just be you.  Don't let the assholes steal your light.

I love you,

Mumma Bear

Self Harm.

TRIGGER WARNING ~ SELF HARM...

I feel as though I have let my 11 year old, first born daughter down.  Yesterday I found out she harmed herself and told her 'boyfriend' who then told his mum as he was worried, then his mum told the deputy principal and - queue me.

I got a phone call from one of the deputy principals at school and my first thought was my 2nd daughter, knowing that my first was thriving and doing brilliantly in her last year at primary school, gold student, great respect for her teachers & peers - it couldn't be her.  It was.  Time stopped, I'm sure.  I couldn't process as quickly as I used to be able to and my first reaction was anger.  Now I am so ashamed that the first thing I said to miss 11 was - WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?  I am absolutely kicking my own guts in, I feel so disgusted that I, a sufferer of the hideous disease which is self harm, has plagued me since I was 13 - was angry at my clearly suffering daughter.

I saw the photo.  The photo that was sent to her little boyfriend.  It wasn't horrific.. but.. it was a massive trigger for me.  I felt for her.  Tears streamed down my cheeks.  She told me she used a sharp pencil and just 'scratched' at her skin (left arm) no scars were left, and luckily no blood was present.  

I felt her pain.  I got it.  I showed her my left arm, something I have shielded from my kids since they were old enough to see it.  She was shocked.  It's like she didn't realise that it was a 'disease' and the brain really fucks you over sometimes.  To cut yourself to feel better - people look at you like you need to be in a straight jacket with a psych evaluation.  The only thing that took the pain away when I was younger was to cut myself.  I used a bobby pin.  Simple.  Rarely did I use a razor, although I did have a 'stash' in my bottom drawer.  The sharpness of the end of a bobby pin actually does a bit of damage.  My arms, legs, stomach, feet - yes, feet - were covered in cuts & initials.  The only way I got relief from the relentless bullying was to cut.  I felt free.  Among the constant anxiety attacks, the tears from bad memories, the only thing that got me through was to cut.  I went for nearly 2 years before my parents found out.  It broke my mum & my nanna's hearts.  My mum still blames herself for not being 'present' enough when I was a teenager, I think that's why it happened - because a) it felt good and b) only 2 friends knew.. Until I showed my 'high school boyfriend' his initials carved into my right foot. "WHY?" "Why would you do that to yourself?" - I said because I loved him and it made me feel better.  Clearly he didn't understand how harming yourself can make you 'feel better'.

I get why miss 11 did what she did.  She was masking a horrific incident that happened to her at school and she felt she had no one to go to.  Not her teachers, the principal, me or her dad.  She was desperate.  I asked her if she looked up self harm on google, she said no.  I asked her how she knew what she was essentially doing and she said 'I just had to get something sharp and scratch myself until I felt better'... My god.  It was like mirror imaging.  Like I was talking to my 11 year old self.  So scary.  So FUCKING scary.  At that instant I felt I had failed her.  My heart is broken.  I've given her coping strategies that I've been given over the years, and I have been self harm free for almost 3 years.  It's hard, so god damn hard.  I love my daughter with my every inch of my body and I will do anything to try and heal her pain, right now I need to mend 2 hearts.  Wish me luck.

Until next time, be kind x

Suicidal Ideation..

**TRIGGER WARNING**

I get it. It took me years to understand how people become so helpless & feel they have no other option but to end their lives. I get it COMPLETELY.  I have suffered with suicidal ideation for so many years, and after suffering from clinical depression from 19, and generalised anxiety disorder at 14 - suicide has plagued me.  As I've gotten older and suffered pre & post natal depression, being admitted at 35 weeks pregnant for suicidal thoughts & a 'plan' - I had almost all but given up.

Mental health is shamed.  It is stigmatized.  It's almost like you're not allowed to be 'mentally ill' because it's not 'visible' and you look 'fine'.  Fuck stigma.  Mental health is REAL.  It's scary, it's lonely and especially when your loved ones don't want to know or understand the depth of where your brain is.  It's taken me a long time to accept that something that happened to me at 17 was out of my control and I've finally begun to heal.  That's 22 years of being shaded by this event, and I refuse to give it anymore of my life.

As I am struggling with dissociation through borderline personality disorder (BPD), it's one of the most difficult things I've ever dealt with since my diagnosis 5 years ago.  It's flared for a reason.. Something is not 'right'.  I am having this horrible 'am I alive or looking in at my life, dead?' - it certainly doesn't do anything for someone that has suffered from self harm since the tender age of 13.  Something of which I knew nothing about.  It wasn't in encyclopedias, in the 'news' we certainly didn't have internet, so I kept my arms & legs covered every day - even in summer.

I'm not looking for sympathy.  I'm looking for understanding.  Everybody deals with things differently, everyone's brains are different.  I wish mine wasn't broken.  I wish I hadn't had that first anxiety attack at 14.  I wish a lot of things.  I just hope one day we can all treat each other with respect no matter what is wrong with us.  Mental health problems are 'illnesses' whether people like to admit it or not.  Just because my brain doesn't function like yours doesn't mean you throw me away or stop caring.

Until next time, be kind x

The pain of mental health

Today is the 6th January, 2016.  I have not kept to my resolutions, you know - lose weight, get healthy, beat depression/anxiety/BPD/OCD/PTSD and the rest?  I guess I'm over committing myself and should concentrate on one thing or the other.

Today I had my 2nd day off work since I started 4.5 months ago.  I felt bad for having another day off (I had yesterday off too) but my head would not let me focus on anything except on how I'm feeling, and let me tell you it's not pretty.

My head feels like it's going to explode.  Actually my body feels like it's going to explode.  I cried on the way home from the chemist at a song that made me think of my Nanna, I was listening to Sam Smith's 'Lay Me Down' and some of the words, well ok, most of them, are reminiscent of how I am feeling:

Can I lay by your side?

Next to you?

And make sure you're alright, I'll take care of you

I don't want to be here if I can't be with you tonight

See what I mean? Hits you right in the throat, creates the lump then the tears flow.  

Once when I was younger and my Nanna was staying with us, she used to sleep in my bed and I would sleep on a fold up bed beside her.  One morning my stereo came on, no I didn't press any buttons on the remote, and one song by Coolio - I'll see you when you get there, came on.  My Nanna always praised me for my taste in music, and said every song I ever played her was lovely.  This came on and she said 'What a lovely song darling' - ever since then I play it and it instantly reminds me of her.  You see, my whole life turned upside down nearly 9 months ago.  My darling Nanna was diagnosed with cancer.  I have felt numb until now, when my depression has taken over and I cannot function to the fact of making dinner, heck I can't even do a load of washing let alone take a shower.

The fact that my Nanna is 94, being as strong as an ox, living on morphine as she refused chemotherapy, what once started as thyroid cancer, is now cancer of the brain stem, liver and quite possibly her bones now, we find out next week.  

My Nanna also said almost 9 months ago that she didn't want any of us going down to Tasmania to see her, as it was her dying wish.  I may come across selfish but I am going down to see her next week, to help with my mental health state.  No body knows that I am going, and it's a very low key visit.  It's not to catch up with friends, it's to be with my Nanna, going to bingo - something we loved doing when I was younger, it was our thing and I loved it.  I will take her out for lunch, not that she likes food very much but it's the thought of just being with her for one or two precious days, I feel I will improve my mental health by seeing her but it will also shatter my heart as I know it will be the last ever time I see her.  It's a cruel catch 22.  

So through the tears today, I blog this.  My inner most thoughts & fears and what I am going to have to go through next week, I feel it's the right thing to do, for me, and I know my Nanna will (hopefully) see why I had to do it all, she means so much to me to not do anything, if that makes me selfish then so be it, I'm selfish.

2015 was a shit year, I fucked up, my marriage was on the rocks - hey my whole fucking life was on the rocks.  I wanted to disappear, that didn't happen - I'm still here, typing this to the world.

So as I battle my demons once again, for another day, it brings me closer to a nervous trip to Tassie. I just wish it was my Nanna and nobody else as I cannot stand them, they mean nothing to me.