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Mending a Broken Heart

Another emotional week is coming to a close for my threefold. ALL three are home. Hopefully for a long time! It’s been up and down around here. I’m just trying to ride the waves of emotion and be the support my threefold needs me to be. It is a hard job, this mom thing. I will be tending to broken hearts and broken promises for the foreseeable future. Being a teenage girl is hard too.

#1 experienced her first big love over the past year. Her boyfriend {we’ll call him ‘J’} and #1 have been together for about 16 months or so. This is her first long relationship. Many of her firsts happened with ‘J’. She has been in love and it’s been beautiful to watch that young love. I actually really like ‘J’ and know he has been a good support for #1 through a very tumultuous year.

Tonight though, ‘J’ called it quits with #1. Her devastation and complete breakdown was heartbreaking for me to witness. I watched and tried to calm my sweet little girl as she hyperventilated and cried uncontrollably. I wanted to hold her, but during panic attacks she has increased sensitivity to touch. instead I sat on the cold floor with her hushing calmly and telling her that she would be ok, even if she wasn’t ok in that moment, she would be. I felt helpless I wanted to fix it, but there are no magic words to mend a broken heart. Instead, I did the only thing I knew how to do. I tried to calm her insecurities and her feelings of worthlessness.

Instead of sitting on the floor we drove to the gas station down the road. We have chocolate. We have funny tv shows and movies and we have a little heartbreak hotel set up. My newly appointed adult daughter will be sleeping in her mom’s room tonight. She will be comforted with chocolate and inappropriate humor. We will ride the wave.

As I sit writing this little dramatic comedy in the making, I am stealing away my moment to cry knowing this pain will linger with her for a while. I know that the first love and the first heartbreak that usually comes with it will be forever etched in her memory. She is tough. My stick of dynamite in a tiny 4’10” body. She has grown so much and has a bright future ahead that is bound to include more love and more heartbreak. This love will be the beautiful high school story she tells one day to her own child when they experience that first love…and the heartbreak that will break hers to watch. I’m loving her through this one knowing that life goes on and that she won’t allow the heartbreak to break her completely. I’m staying positive because I know she’s got this. I’ve got her…and I’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M

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ENDurance

We’ve all been enthusiastic about something in life. My favorite example of enthusiasm is how the night before my first day of school as a kid I would be so enthusiastic and had this anxious excitement for the year ahead. It was a fresh start, school supplies were accounted for and I knew that it was going to be a great year. I was enthusiastic about getting started. I believe that enthusiasm is a common occurrence for everyone. It may be that first day of school or a new job. Maybe it was a relationship or a project. However, enthusiasm can only take us so far.

Eventually, we hit a wall and enthusiasm isn’t always enough to get us to the finish line. The desire doesn’t go away, but it’s not as exciting now that it’s hard or now that it’s actually happening. Maybe it wasn’t what you thought it was. Your schedule changes at school, the job isn’t anything what you thought, the fighting begins with the partner, or you hit a roadblock with the project you wanted to do. In the loss of that enthusiasm we tend to give up. I know, I do.

I’ve been known to lose enthusiasm and lose my want to see whatever it is to the finish line. School was exciting and I would try really hard for a few weeks, but if that effort didn’t pay off, I didn’t like the class or just simply lost my motivation for a couple of days…it was done, I didn’t try anything else. I would diet, lose weight, and do well for a few weeks. Then there would be a ‘bad’ day. I would eat the fries and have cake. I would throw in the towel and say ‘there’s no point. I can’t do this, I already screwed it up.’ That’s how we react when it doesn’t go exactly according to our plan. The end.

Wait…It’s time for endurance, not time for the end! This is when I think we set ourselves apart. There are numerous things that even with enthusiasm and good intentions matched with hard work and a willingness to learn that will require endurance, patience, and strength to be successful. Some things may come easily and all it takes is the attitude and confidence that you are capable. While other ventures may end regardless of the enthusiasm and endurance you have. It’s about listening to yourself and finding what you believe is worth fighting for. For me, it took a long time to find what I was willing to endure and recognize what I was capable of enduring…and yes, what I needed to end.

I endured and persevered through an abusive and unfulfilling marriage. I felt I gave what I could and allowed what was taken from me. I tried to push through and find the enthusiasm to continue. I had the determination, but when there are many factors involved and other people have an effect on your result, it’s trickier to decide if it’s meant to be I fought the end many years, in fact much longer than I should’ve, but in the end I knew that I tried and could walk away knowing that it wasn’t just me quitting when things got hard. I didn’t jump ship at the first sign of bad times. I stuck with it, but it wasn’t healthy for myself or my threefold. It had reached the end. The end has been a process of endurance {and enthusiasm} in and of itself. I could’ve just as easily ran back to what I knew, instead of facing many hardships or fighting the battles I have. The end was my goal. I needed to end that chapter and find my path to happiness; for my threefold and I.

I am enthusiastic at my work and it pays off. I have a good attitude and I enjoy what I do. I’m confident in my abilities. I know my value and my work is often rewarded. I attribute this to my success in my company. It’s not always easy, I often want to say ‘screw it, someone else can handle this’ or have to pull myself out of bed in the morning, but I endure those challenges of my own making and those beyond my control. This endurance has led to two years under my belt with two promotions and four raises, amongst accolades from my clients and my company. It’s resulted in creating a name for myself and a future for my threefold and I. It also led me to find the man I now consider my soulmate and my second chance romance, which is quite enough to call myself successful.

I could’ve quit on my relationship with ‘E’ when things got hard. I could’ve stopped writing when I’ve had blocks. I could’ve quit many nights fighting my threefold. I could’ve quit my job when #2 was hospitalized. I could’ve quit trying to find solutions and treatment plans to help myself and my threefold. I could’ve quit my healthier lifestyle. I could’ve thrown my hands up a million times, but that’s not who I am or the role model I want for my threefold. I’m not a quitter. When life throws punches, I bob and weave. I wait for my opening and show life who is in control. I win. I’m a badass. Stay positive. Endure. We’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M

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Silver Linings

I’ve been pretty negative the past few weeks, just sitting in my puddle of pity and splashing people in the face if they came near or tried to pull me from wallowing in my many woes. Even those that you would think are the strongest still fall. I had to climb out of the hell I was allowing to take over my life {or drug out kicking and screaming} I had to get out of there before I let it consume me and cover me in the dark bitterness of depression. It took some come ups and some push {ok a lot of push} but I’m starting to see some of that silver lining.

I never rolled over and quit {I wanted to.} I knew that my only choice was to keep moving forward and as hard as it has been this past month it’s time to shake off the sadness and the hardships. Now I am going to get to the good {ish} part again. And yes I say ish because it’s never going to be perfect but goodish is MUCH better than hellish. Real talk.

Both of my girls aren’t discharged from the hospital yet, but # 2 came home today. She’ll do a partial hospitalization program starting Monday. That means I can have her home at night, but she’ll still have daily therapy and see her psychiatrist daily. So hospital diring the day, work, and then home. Much better than inpatient with five minute phone calls and no face to face visitation.

#3 will hopefully get out next week. They did a full medication change on her so she has to be monitored while she adjusts to the new regimen. Hopefully, this change is one that helps her to regulate her emotions better. She is ready to be back home. Home for a week then back inpatient isn’t the goal at all. Hopefully her step down care will be partial or intensive outpatient care.

On a brighter note, tomorrow #1 has her 18th birthday party! I went all out. She didn’t get a sweet sixteen due to Covid popping up this time two years ago. She chose an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ theme. I love it. We bought cute spring dresses, too many decorations, and I have three cakes. Yes, I know it’s excessive. Who needs 3 cakes, cupcakes, chocolate covered strawberries and ooey gooey bars? Well, apparently we do. It should be fun and give us all the ability to relax and have some fun. I hate #3 won’t be here with us to celebrate. I miss that kid with all of me right now.

To top off the celebration of the 18th birthday and the official adulthood commencing for one of my threefold we also are celebrating that full scholarship she was awarded for her amazing ACT and academic achievements amongst an essay she wrote. So proud of her! She is rocking this year and has grown so much as a person this year. {still 4’10” but she is dynamite in a tiny package!}

In case I need more to celebrate other than I am one down two to go to successful child rearing, then I can add to the celebratory mood. I achieved a goal that I’ve been working on professionally. I got a promotion at work and a nice little pay increase to go with it. I’m pretty proud to be able to say that in just shy of two years with my current company I’ve had 2 promotions and 4 raises. Not too damn shabby. I do love what I do and the people I get to work with.

Despite all the headaches and the hardships there is still a lot of good happening for us. I know eventually the good will outweigh the bad. I’m ready to keep moving forward and keep overcoming the obstacles. It’s a crazy life Mommin ’ mental illness, but who better to have to do it for my threefold than I? In the mean time I’ll keep trying to see all the good. Stay positive! We’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M

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Domino Effect

I never liked dominoes. I never was interested in playing the game. I would just line them up, stand them up on their ends and push the first one causing the rest to fall over as I watched with amusement. I would create twists and turns with the rows of upended dominoes to see how far it would continue on after the first push. It was entertaining for me. Much more so than the game itself was. This is what it feels like is happening in my life, but I’m not amused with watching as everything falls apart around me.

It’s March 1st. I should be writing a February Goal Getter recap and a March Goal Getter Guide. I should be spouting off about everything we have accomplished and how we do it. I should be writing a congratulatory letter to myself as I get to say this week I will have successfully raised one of my threefold to adulthood. #1 of my threefold turns 18 in only a few days. I should be planning a 18th birthday party and car shopping. I should have a promotion and a raise in my sights. What I shouldn’t have is two daughters in crisis mode leaving mom to manage the onslaughts of stress, financial worries, emotional turmoil, and trying to figure out where I went wrong. Yet here I am mommin’ mental illness and trying to manage my own. It’s been the domino effect of triggered responses.

It was a week to the day I discharged #3 from her psychiatric facility for acute care. It was that same day that we discharged #3 that #2 was admitted to the psychiatric hospital for her crisis management. Today, I was back with #3 for another admission for acute crisis management. Yes. That’s right. I have two of my threefold admitted for psychiatric care simultaneously now. As much as I don’t want to be the mom who says that, I am. I’m completely lost in my own emotional overwhelm and exhaustion from the past several weeks that I can’t worry about what that sounds like or how that makes me look. All I care about is that they get the help they need. Everything else is inconsequential at this point. My dominoes are lined up and life has begun to watch in amusement as each of us falls into the darkness of depression.

These admissions weren’t by my choice or even my recommendation. With # 2 hers was initiated by her outpatient therapist. With #2’s history I was pretty much guaranteed admission as soon as I said she had been inpatient for 17 weeks during 2021. With #3 the school has requested evaluation and assessment for mental illness and trauma treatment since her first out burst three weeks ago. #3 returned to school and now here we are with another outburst, more trauma disclosures and another referral from the school for assessment. I’m back to inpatient and trauma momma in the position of chaos coordinator and crisis management. Not the promotion I had hoped for this year. I didn’t ask for the domino free fall, however the pieces are left for me to put back in place. I’m trying to stop the falls, but they are being knocked down before I can even pick up the previous fallen pieces. I’m not sure how to stop the continued cause and effect from the initial piece falling into the one after.

I’m trying to figure it out. I’m trying to muddle through the whole situation. I’m flailing, but I can’t fail. This domino effect will hit a spot where the fall can’t continue and the progression will end. I’m not going to let my threefold down. They won’t be left to fight this alone. They need to stand up and I’m going to make sure they stay balanced whatever it takes. I need a break, but mommin’ mental illness is a full time job with no pay and no benefits. I’m broken and they are too. All I can do is work towards finding them the right care and keeping my sanity so I can manage this crisis as it comes. I’m scared. I’m sad. They’re scared and sad. I’m not sure how the next part of this story of ours will go, but I know that it’s going to be a hard one to write until they are home with me where they belong. In the meantime, all I can say is I’m trying to be positive. I might need some help along the way, but I’ve got this. ☮️❤️😊~M