Read Madam Bipolar's blog, Plan B and the comments that followed it, makes me think a lot about my mental illness and its effects on my daughter. (Both genetic and environmentally) I, in fact, just today call a family therapy group so that we can deal with her anxiety. (Daddy was kind enough to provide his own anxiety disorder to her genetic make up, in addition to my disorders.) As well as, to help her deal with Chuck and his daughter moving out. It is something I am constantly aware of. For example, the other night I had a particularly bad anxiety night and my daughter wanted to climb on me, snuggled with me, the normal stuff, but for some reason every time she touched me I got jumpy and felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. She was doing her normal 6 year old thing, but the wiggling, and talking, and bumping me....I just couldn't take it. It made me feel like a horrible momma's. She just wanted some attention. Now believe me when I say my child has NO lack of attention! She is an only child, and the first born grandchild of 3 sets of grandparents. But the fact that I knew MY disorder was causing me to not be able to hold her, snuggled her, and be the affectionate mom I usually am bothered me. As a lot of the comments left on the Plan B blog said you become so aware of moments like that. Instead of yelling at her and telling her to leave momma a lone, we talked and she understood that momma's needed some down time. It helps some to see her understand and reflect that. She will tell her dad when he call that she "thinks momma's newest some alone time because she is really frustrated and upset"
These things, these example, show not just the negate side of a mentally ill parent, but they also show a little girl with a kind heart. She is always willing to help and always wants to make people feel better. I once told "No, no honey momma's is the adult. I will take care of it." She rubbed my back, whiles my tears away and said, "See momma's even little people can help too." And she was right. I needed to feel love and cared for that night.
I have struggled from clinical depression and anxiety since I was 19 (least that's when I was diagnosed). My 20s were spent in a lot of turmoil. Skipping class, sleeping a lot, then the panic attacks started. Then I stopped caring. Stopped eating, stopped wearing make up, started cutting, got my first tattoo. I cycles though the depression, the self destructive behavior for the next few years. Then once I had mocked with my ex down south, I found people who began helping me. I kept up with my medications, as well as my counseling. As did my ex. I went to counseling 8month pregnant, I went 9 months pregnant, and I went with a new born. I did NOT want to fail now that I had a little life at stake. Just having her makes me want to be a better person, makes me want to maintain my level of being high functioning. She pushes me to do that. When I am to depressed to get out of bed I get up and get her to school, every morning. After I get home I lay down again, but damn it she is at school. When Chuck lived here and he was non-stop on me about something and I wanted to grab my keys and go, but I didn't I didn't want to leave me daughter here without me. She sees that I am down or "Don't feel so well", and she generally let's me rest. She understands a lot for a kid her age. We talk about our feelings all the time. But most of all she makes me stronger. She makes me feel I can do things for her that I can do for no one else. The bus stop, every morning. Some times just get outta bed.
If I lived alone I would not get up, but she needs her momma's. So I push myself and I do it. Basically what is am saying is that without her I don't know that I would try so hard, or push myself as hard, or ever have know unconditionally love! And since I, and pretty much I alone, made my girl everything wonderful, compassionate, smart, independent. I gave her that and she gives me a reason to push on.
Update 12/7/11- I apologize for the earlier typos. I was writing on my cell phone and after taking my Paxil and Ambien.
These things, these example, show not just the negate side of a mentally ill parent, but they also show a little girl with a kind heart. She is always willing to help and always wants to make people feel better. I once told "No, no honey momma's is the adult. I will take care of it." She rubbed my back, whiles my tears away and said, "See momma's even little people can help too." And she was right. I needed to feel love and cared for that night.
I have struggled from clinical depression and anxiety since I was 19 (least that's when I was diagnosed). My 20s were spent in a lot of turmoil. Skipping class, sleeping a lot, then the panic attacks started. Then I stopped caring. Stopped eating, stopped wearing make up, started cutting, got my first tattoo. I cycles though the depression, the self destructive behavior for the next few years. Then once I had mocked with my ex down south, I found people who began helping me. I kept up with my medications, as well as my counseling. As did my ex. I went to counseling 8month pregnant, I went 9 months pregnant, and I went with a new born. I did NOT want to fail now that I had a little life at stake. Just having her makes me want to be a better person, makes me want to maintain my level of being high functioning. She pushes me to do that. When I am to depressed to get out of bed I get up and get her to school, every morning. After I get home I lay down again, but damn it she is at school. When Chuck lived here and he was non-stop on me about something and I wanted to grab my keys and go, but I didn't I didn't want to leave me daughter here without me. She sees that I am down or "Don't feel so well", and she generally let's me rest. She understands a lot for a kid her age. We talk about our feelings all the time. But most of all she makes me stronger. She makes me feel I can do things for her that I can do for no one else. The bus stop, every morning. Some times just get outta bed.
If I lived alone I would not get up, but she needs her momma's. So I push myself and I do it. Basically what is am saying is that without her I don't know that I would try so hard, or push myself as hard, or ever have know unconditionally love! And since I, and pretty much I alone, made my girl everything wonderful, compassionate, smart, independent. I gave her that and she gives me a reason to push on.
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