Different Hats

Being a parent is a tough job sometimes. Most days I feel that I am not doing enough when in reality I’m doing too much all at once. Every day is the same routine with the same daily tasks and it can get very dull.

Deciding on what to make for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Picking up the messes and spills.

Taking a nap when the baby sleeps because I am so tired and never get proper rest.

Vacuuming the living room or the kitchen 64,000x in a single day.

Washing the dishes, finding the bottles and binkies.

Laundry piles that are either clean or dirty. I forget sometimes and just leave them on the floor.

Changing my socks because I always step in something wet or sticky.

Toys that are scattered all over the place after I picked them up.

I take care of my children first, and I put my needs last. Well that’s how it kinda should be right?

Sometimes I need a break too. Sometimes I convince myself that I am not allowed to have a break because those days are gone. I’m so overstimulated anymore that every little thing bothers me. Even a touch from someone or something will set me off.

I’m so tired all of the time and I’ve notice lately that my joy in life has turned gray.

I find myself asking this question a lot – what is the point?

I’ve been down this road before…the road to depression.

An illness that is so hard to balance out while trying to live a normal life.

Will I ever be able to break free?

Let’s make it clear – I am not depressed because of my kids. I am a woman who already had issues with mental illness and didn’t seek professional treatment until I went through postpartum depression years ago.

I am depressed because well I guess it’s in my blood. Some things happened to me when I was a child, and well now because of that I am a neurotic mess. It feels like sometimes I am walking around with an invisible black cloud over my head. Like I am not allowed to be happy in life. It’s very hard to explain if I am being honest.

Well, how about some therapy and a psychiatrist? How about some more medication to jam down your throat?

I did all of that. I’ve been in therapy where I’ve learned a lot about myself and the issues. How to train the brain into thinking positive and rewire negative thinking patterns. I let loose in therapy sessions, I spilled my guts and heart out as much as possible. I even let my therapist record each session for quality and training purposes because maybe it does really help others to understand.

I’ve been on so many different medications, especially when I was misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder. Things like Abilify, Seroquel, Lithium, Xanax, Depakote, Zoloft, Prozac, Trazodone, Gabapentin, and others I can’t even think about right now. It makes me sick when I think about how drugged up these doctors had me at one point.

If I have learned anything about psychiatric medications, it’s that they are only going to help for a limited amount of time. I hate to say this but there really is no medication that permanently rids of mental illnesses, that I’m aware of at least.

And if that day comes, when science finds the solution to getting rid of mental illnesses, I’m not sure if I would want to participate.

For years I used to dream about forgetting the things that have caused me trauma. A reboot from the start of life so I don’t have to live with memories that haunt me.

I’ve worked very hard for years on my mental health ever since I fell down. If I participate in the possible future of eliminating mental illness, then what was all of that hard work for?

Nothing.

And so, after all this time, I’m a parent living with mental illness. And I know I’m not the only one who lives like this, there are plenty out there like me. People who can function in the real world as an adult and a parent, but still live with pain and put on a mask.

I give it my best and I always make sure my children are taken care of. We all do in this family.

I want to make sure that they live a normal life and they don’t ever experience the things that have happened to me.

I put a lot of pressure on myself with my kids to make sure they are happy and things are perfect. Truly, they are what keeps me going even when I am ready to give up.

Because of my depression, anxiety, and unhappiness throughout my life, it affects my parenting and how I think about stuff. For example – thinking I need to do everything perfectly for my children so they don’t end up like me.

But here is something important that I have learned about myself. I am a parent who lives with mental illness, I understand that some days are not going to be easy. Even though I struggle, I take care of my children. They always come first when I am feeling second. When they smile, it feels like it’s the only thing that I can do right in this silly life.

And I can recognize the signs of when I begin to descend into the madness of depression. I’m aware that this is something that I will just have to live and deal with and I accept that. Even though I know I am not the only person who suffers with mental illness as a parent, it feels like I am the only one sometimes.

I know that it’s hard to admit you suffer from mental illness. And I know that not every person is going to understand that struggle unless they personally experience it. Not everyone is going to accept it either. I guess I am just a little bit different from other people.

Va fangool!

Maybe today, mommy is just having a bad day and it was time to let it out. It feels much better to write it down instead of verbally telling someone. And who knows, maybe it makes other moms feel better too.

I know I am doing a great job and I will get over this little slump of depression. It’s not the first and won’t be the last. The trick is to take a deep breath and have a clear mind, remind myself that better days will be here before you know it.