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