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An Update on 2, From 2: In Her Own Words & More ⚠️

⚠️****Trigger Warning**** ⚠️ ⚠️ Please proceed cautiously . If in recovery this post could be triggering.⚠️ ⚠️Disturbing Images⚠️

#2 sent me this today. Along with an update she wanted me to share with the people who have been praying for her. This is the longest amount of time that she has been without self-harm in the past year. She is progressing. We are all happy she is home and safe. We know this is a long road, but we are moving in a forward direction. ❤️

⚠️****Trigger Warning**** ⚠️ ⚠️ Please proceed cautiously . If in recovery this post could be triggering.⚠️ ⚠️Disturbing Images⚠️

The following was written by #2 in my threefold. She is 13. The past year has been a rollercoaster for her and for all of my threefold as we have fought mental illness. 2 just got home from being inpatient at a psychiatric resindential facility where she has received crisis intervention and trauma therapy 24/7 for 7 weeks. She is progressing while showing amazing courage and strength to move past the illnesses she has been diagnosed with.

The following are the words she is asked me to post as her update:

“If you’ve been reading this for a while then you should know my moms side and what she knows about my situation, i believe for people to really understand adolescents with mental illnesses they should hear the parents perspective and the child’s. So here is my side and understanding.
If you don’t already know i’m the second daughter. My mom has talked about me a good amount of time so i guess some of y’all should already know somethings about me. I struggle with, complex post traumatic stress disorder, general anxiety, combined adhd, dmdd- dysfunctional mood disregulation disorder, social anxiety, major depressive disorder, odd- oppositional defiant disorder. In the past year i’ve been to two acute mental hospitals, one php (partial hospitalization), and one residential program. I’ve struggled with self harm on and off for about a year, at first in November of 2020 when i first started self-harming i wouldn’t go deep i was barely cutting skin. In late November early December of that year i got sent to my first facility i discharged from there and temporarily stopped self harming. At first i started self harming because i was overwhelmed my parents were getting a divorce, i was struggling with my sexuality, my school was virtual, i had lost control of what seemed like everything in my life. Me self harming was me taking control. I was abused as a child and the last time i was physically hurt but my abuser was January 2021, though not only was i physically abused i was also mentally and verbally abused which occurred a lot more often. just about my whole life all i knew was pain, which is one of the reason i believe that caused SH (self-harm) to be something i depended on. I’ve been ask why i didn’t immediately ask for help in this situation i did try and seek help. One night i decided it would be better for me to tell someone (other than my older sister she knew i told her in august when i first started) i was staying with my father that week and i struggled to hit i told him that i was self harming to be exact i had cut my hair that day so i tried to form some kind of joke to tell him what i had said was “my hair isn’t the only thing i cut today” it took him a minute to understand but eventually he did . what he told me though still bothers me today (at the time i was mildly suicidal) he had said “wanting to kill yourself is a natural human feeling” so i took that and used it to minimize the situation, eventually though my mom told my therapist at the time and then i was admitted.
I relapsed in january this time was the very first time i cut so much you couldn’t see my thigh, i continued to cut through out the span of 2 weeks when my mom found the a blade. She informed my therapist and decided i could stay home. This kept occurring until june it was a cycle i would stop for a while then start again mostly not getting caught but sometimes i would. The week of june 9th i selfharmed before a thearpy session i didn’t have time to clean up the blood on my leg so i threw on some pants and left in the car my mom saw the blood dripping down my leg and drying, she didn’t understand why. I had been out of depression states for months at that point i had a suicide note in my phone i had already made plans and had tried to end my pain, i was tired of trying, i got to the point that i kept everything in inside i was completely numb and was ready to end my battle, self harming was a temporary fix to my numbness and eventually it stopped working i had lost my drug. when i compare SH (self-harm) to drugs it’s because that’s what it was for me my high was being lightheaded SH made me happy i couldn’t go without it, it’s an addiction. once it stopped working i was at the point where i had no reason to live. I got admitted into another hospital and then partial and then residential with no break, though i’m proudly able to say i haven’t selfharmed since june ninth, and i don’t want to or plan on self harming. Though my future is unwritten so i guess we’ll see what happens.”

⚠️****Trigger Warning**** ⚠️ ⚠️ Please proceed cautiously . If in recovery this post could be triggering.⚠️ ⚠️Disturbing Images⚠️

Planter hiding bits and pieces of her hidden secrets.

In January, I remember how angry I was. I was angry with myself, her father, her sisters, and I felt like I didn’t know what to do. When she was admitted after Thanksgiving, she only had surface wounds. I was terrified. I spoke to her therapist and her father and we all agreed 2 needed to increase therapy and go to her psychiatrist for med changes. I was hopeful. I began checking in often, having others check in when I couldn’t and we immediately implemented the safety plan that we had formulated. I didn’t know, though I hold guilt for not knowing as a mom I felt like I should’ve stopped this or prevented it. After her first hospitalization I became more aware. After this major incident and without me being informed of the abuse I became diligent.

⚠️****Trigger Warning**** ⚠️ ⚠️ Please proceed cautiously . If in recovery this post could be triggering.⚠️. ⚠️Disturbing Images⚠️

****Trigger Warning**** Just two days before admission 6/7/2021. I was only waiting because her therapist scheduled an emergency session so she could see her 6/9. Her therapist was aware of this incident and she did everything she could to keep 2 home.

****Trigger Warning**** The day she was admitted for inpatient acute hospitalization June 9th, 2021.

We had good weeks and then set backs over the next few months. I continued to implement her safety plan hoping if I just kept making sure the access was gone then we would make it through this. Never in a million years did I think that she was going to the extent of breaking kitchen glasses, picture frames, using wire from notebooks, blades from pencil sharpeners or screws out of shelves. That’s when I realized that phone cases hid the blades, plants housed sharp objects, trash bags had been hidden in the attic with bloody towels amidst whatever other trash she was throwing away. This was “addict behavior” in every way. Lies, bribes, empty promises of change that were all intended to be kept, but she just couldn’t follow through, she was deep in the dark place. She was losing hope, but I kept fighting even when she didn’t know how. Even when all I could do is cry and call her team to guide me through how I should handle each instance, I held onto the promise of a better life for my threefold.

I knew that we were headed in two possible directions. 1. Back to inpatient or 2. Her following through to completion. I could handle not seeing her if I knew she would be coming home, but not never again. A couple weeks was nothing against never seeing her again. Well obviously she was admitted, 12 weeks did feel like forever sometimes but I found comfort in knowing if nothing else she’s safe. I realized that diligence and my awareness weren’t going to be good enough and that I had to make the people around her aware too. Furthermore, I found that I had to lead by example. My therapy is important. My medication regimen is a must. My self care routine has to be completed. I learned that there are no perfect days, but our attitude towards life is everything. Most importantly I learned that this will be a long journey, but I can set the example, do my best, and meet my threefold where they are each day. After all a mother’s love is limitless.

Tomorrow 2 starts a new treatment program and we are going to keep working on being the best we can each day and to lean on the people around us in our dark times. It’s ok to ask for help. It’s ok to be not ok. Learn from it, grow from it, and eventually everything will make sense. We were meant to be in this situation, the dark times will help us lead others to the light. We are strong. Every single one of us! We are enough! ☮️❤️😊~M

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Ask. Accept. Acknowledge.

This was my first attempt at not only recording a video in real time, but also taking the raw footage of that video and editing it to customize it and make it cohesive. I was nervous filming it, thus my shakiness that is visible in the video. I am more nervous making it public, even though I maintained my anonymity in respect to our unique situation and out of respect for my threefold as we have endured trauma and are trying to heal that trauma.

I can’t pretend that letting people, the world, in on my dark and hidden truth behind my push for positivity is easy. I am beyond scared that people will judge me and doubt my intentions for this video as anything less than genuine attempt to show that there is good everywhere and that all we have to do is open our eyes and see it.

I wasn’t going to share it. I just wanted to have it for myself and for my family as a way to show them that everything works out even if it’s in ways you don’t expect it to. Shine light on the shadows of your life and in turn your truth will become someone else’s way to do the same. We are going through all of this and we’re meant to be on this journey for a reason. One day, we will know what the plan and purpose for our journey was for. Until then we cling to faith, hope, peace, love, happiness and positivity. That’s how we heal and move forward. I hope you enjoy this and appreciate the good around you everyday!


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Our Mental Illness Saga

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I remember this saying and it is oh so true. Counseling Today states that a child is twice as likely to develop a severe mental illness if their parent has a severe mental illness. My threefold and I did not win the genetic lottery by any means. We have all the illnesses and sometimes the list gets excessive and explaining them to others is exhausting!

Personally I struggle with major depressive disorder, general anxiety disorder, attention deficit disorder, and complex post traumatic stress disorder. If that isn’t enough for one person, then imagine a 17 year old (1) with the same disorders. Better yet imagine a 13 year old (2) that has all of these plus disruptive mood disregulation disorder, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, social anxiety, and manic episodes. Although we are pretty sure the mania, major depression and ADHD will eventually morph into one diagnosis of bipolar II sooner or later. At least that’s what the doctors tell me. We have a combined total of 5 psychiatric hospitalizations to date. 4 of which were for my middle daughter (2) and 1 for myself. I am by no means a qualified mental health professional, but from personal experience and experience with my threefold I have highly educated myself on mental illness and all of our very complex diagnoses.

With me personally I know I have to be careful with my stress level, my medication, communication, conflict, sleep and a billion other things. As an adult I am very aware of my triggers. Though my C-PTSD can be uncovered as I am working through my trauma. Sometimes though I’m just in the wrong state of mind that I will intentionally put myself into a triggering situation. I guess my thought is to face the fear or I am looking for a reason to fight. I need it. That’s such a crappy thing to admit, but it’s true. Sometimes I need to scream at someone so I will do whatever it takes to make it happen. I get all “bish, I wish you would, I’ll burn your mother loving clothes!” Real talk. Maybe I’m alone in that sometimes I just need to let it all out, no filter, but with all the apologies afterwards. I need to have someone reel me back in and make me see that my disorders are on the fritz. Other times I’m honestly triggered and it comes at the worst times. I get highly emotional when I’m frustrated and can’t see my way to a solution. I close off. I shut down and sometimes it takes a shit ton of love to knock these walls down that I build. I shake and want to run in confrontation and my voice cracks. My easy confidence I am usually carrying bolts and sometimes I bolt with it. That’s all the C-PTSD and anxiety. I ignore problems and hope for the best. That works, at times, other times it’s stored in my bomb kit waiting for me to push the “blow up shit” button.

My depression is managed with medication mostly. I am thankful for that. It’s been a while since I’ve had a major depressive episode and wow those are not pretty. They look like calling in days upon days or finding an “excuse” to go home. They consist of days without showering and numbing out the pain with sleep; an excessive amount more than what is required. Closed doors, dark rooms, what I eat is in bed and there isn’t much that will move me out of it. Those episodes make me look like a bad parent, because in those moments I don’t care. God, I hate to admit that, but the only thing I want is peace and I can’t find it. I can be totally honest that I have been known to try to find it in the bottom of a bottle. That’s not recommended because it will give you an escape but it leads right back to where you started. It’s not there, I’ve looked in several at different times in my life. I’ve questioned my purpose, my place and tested my will to live on more than one occasion. That’s not normal. If you know how you would…if you did…and seriously contemplate doing it. GET. HELP. Suicide is no joke and it is not a temporary fix for your current pain. No matter how bad it gets! I mean that with all of my soul. The only thing that has kept me alive in those darkest of times was the thought of my children wondering what they did wrong or my family questioning how they could’ve prevented it. Nothing is permanent. Not your feelings. Not your situation. Not your circumstances. I say that from a place of love, because I know all too well the depths depression drags you to when you’re in the dark place. Its hard. I promise it will get better. You hold the cards, play the hand you’ve got and then get a new deal, that’s all we can do. It’s a carousel and it never stops spinning. We can’t be ashamed to speak up and tell the people around us what it looks like when we are in the dark place. That’s how we get help. That’s when we need help.

Having mental illness is one thing parenting mental illness while coping with your own mental illness is another. I can’t say what it is like for those that don’t have mental illness, I’m not sure, but I imagine it is still difficult to parent. My threefold has their own unique triggers and mental illness presents differently in everyone. Just because my kid that has 8 diagnoses, or the one who has 4 diagnoses acts a certain way does not mean their symptoms, triggers, or treatments will be similar to mine or anyone else’s. Sure, we’ll have some similarities, but there is no cookie cutter medicine or therapy that works for everyone. It’s honestly all trial and error. I never thought that any of us had mood disorders. Turns out we all do! What I believed to be “mild” depression was actually major depressive disorder or MDD. MDD is in fact a mood disorder. I never knew that until I researched it and began digging into the disease after I was told that by my psychiatrist, then 1 and 2’s psychiatrist also said it. I thought depression was depression and I had that “run of the mill” typical blah, yuck depression and have had it since I was 14. Who thinks that’s normal? Me. I thought it was a phase or situational for 1, and she “managed” on her own fairly well. I thought 2 would grow out of it, or that she just had severe ADHD and depression- not “mood swings” or hypomanic and depressive episodes. What’s that? I thought 2 was the only person suffering with attention issues, nope turns out that MANY people get attention issues accompanied by major anxiety as added perks of C-PTSD. We are ALL very different but we ended up very much the same.

Mental health has so much to do with how much you truly want to get better. It has more to do with perspective and willingness to commit to your betterment. Medication IS a commitment. Therapy IS a commitment. Working on yourself IS a commitment. It’s costly of time, sweat, money, tears, and sometimes you take two steps forward to go ten steps back. It’s perseverance as much as anything else. My therapist poses a pertinent question. “How is _______ serving me?” How does my anxiety serve me? How does depression serve me? What benefits do I get? It’s really a deep question. How does it serve me? I benefit by feeling I can use it as a reason to not want to do something or to get out of commitments occasionally. An excuse for bad behavior or acting irrationally. To guilt someone to do something I don’t want to do or feel I can’t do. To receive sympathy or attention when I don’t feel like I’m getting what I need. It can become very toxic and definitely come off as disregarding of others and that it’s always about me. However, I am aware that other people have feelings and cannot constantly allow myself to be controlled by my mental disorders. It’s a different power to take ownership of your own behaviors and not constantly say “I’m sorry I flipped out on you I have _______ and it triggered a bad reaction.” No. This is more accurate: “I said it, I didn’t mean it, I’m aware that I probably hurt your feelings please forgive me. I will work on it.” I have to take ownership for what I am doing and quit allowing myself to give the power over to mental illness.

I think I am able to better parent and be more understanding about mental illness because at 14/15/16 I was a “cutter”. I have MDD so I know what to look for and although I blinded myself for years to the reality of it I now can see clearly. I can pinpoint the onset of a depressive episode for any of us now. My threefold talks to me and is open with me about their struggles, their triggers and their warning signs which is helpful. I still get irritated when we can’t participate in certain things, but I know and have an understanding that C-PTSD and their own severe anxiety are better left at bay when they’re not pushed too far past their comfort zone. I know now that mania is not a “good” day. It’s being egotistical, self centered, hyper focused for small bits of time, starting but never finishing, having grandiose sense of self and abilities, and acting incredibly impulsively. There are so many more signs of these disorders, but the list would just go on and on. You’re strong. Remember tomorrow is fresh with no mistakes in it yet! ☮️❤️🙂

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Missing Pieces: Update

**Possible Trigger Warning**

***if you haven’t read this post on what has been happening this next one will likely make little sense! Start HERE***graphic content please proceed with caution.

I would be lying if I didn’t say the past few weeks have been extremely difficult. I’m not going to sugarcoat how excruciatingly painful having one of my threefold away from me has been. Having such limited contact, and very little information on how they are doing is by far one of the most difficult challenges I have faced as a mom to my threefold. Even though I know 2 is safe and being cared for, it’s hard to not worry and feel like I should somehow be able to do more. I want to hug her and comfort her. I want to see her smile and I want to hear her laugh. Hell, I want to hear the whining and be pestered about going and doing. I want all the things I took for granted while she was here with me. I miss the late night talks and the good night hugs. I miss the drowsy I love you’s and the death glares. I didn’t think it was possible to miss anyone this much. It’s an ache that is only stifled by the less than 75 minutes per week I get to speak to her. The rest of the week I am focusing on trying to busy my thoughts and my mind as not to dwell on everything. I’m seeking out the good in hopes it will outweigh the bad, some days I win that game others I struggle to find the positive. I’m sure of one thing that in this moment she is safe. They all are. That is the only thing that keeps my eyes from drowning in the tears and allows me to surrender to the exhaustion and submit to a few hours of sleep.

I’m not sure if this will get easier as the length of time just means it has been even longer since I hugged her. I can only equate this feeling to a sense of grief or loss. I’m not sure I can imagine the loss of a child completely and I truly hope that particular nightmare is never a reality I have to endure in this lifetime. I am fearful of it though. I am fearful of mental illness weighing too heavy and trauma crawling out from the depths of my threefold and stealing one of them from me. That’s after all, how we got to where we are now. Thankfully this time we sought help before it was too late but not before it ravaged 2’s mind, body and spirit.

Right now I am living for Tuesday’s five minute phone call, Wednesday’s hour long family therapy session, and Thursday’s twenty minute visitation with 2. It’s been hell on earth. Sometimes when I call to check on her as I do daily I want to scream at the nurse because I don’t want to hear “no changes from a nursing standpoint” one more time! I know they are just doing their job, but that’s my kid! I need to know if she is sleeping ok. I want to know if she ate that day. I want to know what chapter she is on in her Twilight book so I know when to ship the new one to her. I need her to know that I called. I need her to know I love her. I need to hear it too. I want to tuck her in and kiss her forehead while she sleeps when I check on her. I need to know if she is making friends and make sure she is being my sweet girl. I need her to tell me about her day and laugh as she does impressions of her group therapy counselor or cry as she tells me that one girl is so mean to her. I need more information about my kid than the clinical check mark of “no change.” I get one update weekly from the therapist on how she is doing mentally, on Tuesdays before family therapy. I have no timeline for length of stay. I have very little information other than a day to day schedule of activities and therapies. I feel completely in the dark and it is frustrating. There isn’t anything I can do. I can only hope that this care will bring her home to me and that when she returns she is better able to live life with a new appreciation of her many blessings. I pray that she finds a semblance of peace with her mental illness and is able to live life with mental illness instead of mental illness living her life for her.

I need 2 here with us. Life isn’t the same without her here. 2 is the missing piece to my puzzle, she is meant to be with me. She makes everything right. They all do, I need all of them for the balance to be right. I’m not sure how to make this work without her. She is just as important as 1 and 3, PPP and BK. The world is off kilter when any piece is not around. I honestly wonder how parents don’t see their kids. Maybe it takes being told you can’t and losing access before you can appreciate it although I’m not sure who would choose this. Then again, I guess in a way I did choose this. I allowed it. We’ve been through hospitalizations but for some reason this hurts more. Maybe it’s the not knowing. Maybe it’s the realization that there is no time frame for this type of care. Maybe it’s the reality that people with mood disorders make up nearly half the patients needing inpatient psychiatric care. It could be the knowledge that more than half the patients admitted to inpatient care are readmitted within 3-12 months of discharge. Mental illness is the leading cause of hospitalization in adolescents. I’m afraid to my core when I am told that 2 is more than 50% more likely with a mood disorder to make a plan and complete suicide. Then with her LGBTQ factor of identifying in that community increases those odds to a shocking 70%. She is also more likely to suffer from a substance abuse problem trying to escape her own feelings and self medicate or during an extreme manic episode when risky behavior is more likely. Her team feeds me these bits of information in doses so I can swallow them down easier and reflect on them. You research a little too much when you are trying to understand a new diagnosis as well. It’s all so heavy. It’s all so scary. It’s all too real.

I have to learn to rely on doctors and therapists to help me identify behavior patterns that are subject to re-admission. I have to learn mood charting and how to watch for certain signs of mania and depressive episodes. My daughter, my 2, has to be medicated and this changes her presentation it softens some of the hard edges and dims some of the fire. Learning that your kid isn’t just “spunky” or “opinionated” or that the good moods you enjoyed so much were actually symptoms of manic episodes is so hard. I don’t know who 2 is without a mood disorder. The days she thought she was on top of the world, invincible, active, talking 90mph, impulsive, expressing massive self confidence and argumentative were not good days. The days where she was numb, barely able to express the emotions, cutting at her legs to take back a grasp on her reality, crying for what seemed like the smallest things, and shutting herself away those were depressive episodes. I knew that much. I just didn’t know where the medium was. I didn’t know which kid I was getting from one day to the next and I didn’t understand the fluctuations. I’m guilty for not seeing this sooner. I’m her mother. How did I not know that 2 was presenting with clinical symptoms of a mood disorder like DMDD, bipolar, and MDD? How did I miss this?

Mood disorders aren’t like mood swings, well they are but much more intense shifts and longer periods of depression can mask the manic episodes. Knowing they have been struggling with a deep dark depression makes you thankful for those seemingly good days. Even if it means they do 100 things they never finish at least they are doing something. Even if they talk 90mph about 90 different things in 5 minutes flat, you are thankful that they are talking. Even if the extreme self confidence and the invincible outlook is outlandish and exaggerated at least they are being and speaking positivity into themselves. It’s different in kids than adults. It’s not all delusions or total psychosis like we sometimes see in adults with mood disorders. 2 is not going to present like another person even of the same age. Mood disorders have varying degrees of severity and affect their victims differently. It’s a struggle to understand it. 2 doesn’t decide when to cycle in and out of depressive and manic episodes. She isn’t in control of it, she is experiencing an onslaught of emotions and feelings that for a 13 year old are not only difficult to understand but also she is unable to regulate them appropriately, express them in ways that are healthy, or communicate them to the people around her. This is why she is in residential care. To help her recognize her cycles of mood, recognize triggers, recognize the signs that she is about to cycle, and come up with strategies to help her cope when she is cycling. I am also needing to learn. I am researching relentlessly what signs could be that she is about to enter a depressive or manic episode. I am researching what tools we can use at home to help her. I am looking into the best treatments and ways to give her all the support and love I can as she faces an uphill battle that is likely to be life-long.

I am trying to allow the reality and gravity of the situation to sink in. Explaining it to others is difficult especially when you can barely grasp all of the information yourself. It’s imperative that others can notice the signs and symptoms of episodic cycling so that the people around her can help her to work through it. It’s going to be difficult for two to explain to peers, teachers, family and friends but it will have to be done in order to keep her as safe as possible. Unfortunately not everyone will be compassionate or sympathetic. Some won’t think it’s worth the effort and some might decide to make their exit. Hopefully 2 will understand that this is when we find out who truly wants what is best for her and who her true “ride or die” people are. I pray daily that she gets all the support and love of the people who say they care, but I know in reality there will be people who thinks she is “drama” or that this is done intentionally for attention or is a phase. There will be those that want to tell us what we should and shouldn’t do, how O should parent it, what treatments we need, and that judge us both for her symptoms. There is always someone. We, 2 and I both, have to learn that not every person will understand or educate themselves. Some will leave. And that’s ok. We don’t need the fair weathered support of those who only stand by us in the good. Some people are brought into our lives so we can learn to accept what we need and decide what we deserve. Some people are lessons. What matters is that we recognize the ones who are blessings.

Today is Thursday. I will be anticipating anxiously my twenty minute visitation where I can see her face via video chat and talk to her about “normal” things instead digging deep into diagnosis, trauma, and coping like in therapy or the rushed “I love you’s, I miss you’s” of our five minute phone call once per week. I’m anxious to make sure she is ok, especially this week as she learned Tuesday that her grandmother passed away, the last bit of family she was close to on her dad’s side. She was devastated and I had to tell her over a video chat four days after it had happened because we needed to make sure she had the support team accessible and they weren’t her team over the weekend shift. I had to make arrangements for her to attend the service virtually in hopes that would offer some closure while not being able to physically attend. I can’t describe the intense emotions and desire to hold her, hug her, comfort her in any way and not being able to. To see the amount of grief and pain she was in and not be able to put my arms around her was by far the hardest part of this so far. Then to worry incessantly about how she is doing and not being able to check in and get anything but the clinical updates is near torture. I don’t know how to parent like this, but I am doing my best. She is safe. Right now that thought is the only one that gives me comfort. We will make it through this and maybe 2 will be the exception to the mood disorder, but I have to prepare to fight the battle with her. Mental illness sucks! It’s a beast. It’s unrelenting. We are strong and we will keep fighting because what other option is there? We don’t quit. It’s not in our DNA, we keep going in faith. We choose faith. It’s bigger than any struggle we will ever face. We know what we are capable of and we know that we are going through this particular journey because it is meant to serve a higher purpose. Even if we don’t know what that higher purpose is and even on the days we can’t quite find the good, we know that this is all happening for a reason. One day that purpose and reason will become visible. For now we keep the faith.

Sources of statistics and information regarding mood disorder can be found at the following:

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Do You Really Want My Answer?

The million dollar question for the week is “How are YOU doing?” I’ve struggled with this question. Not just this week, but for as long as I can remember. I would ask myself “do they really want to know?” Most of the time I would come to the conclusion that they don’t really care, it’s just what you say. So I have my blanket responses “I’m making it” “Im fine.” “Another day in paradise” “Lovely, how are you?” I have always struggled being truthful with myself. If you go into a long answer about how life is shitty and you feel like every day is a damn fight to see if you can survive the most relentless onslaught of issues thrown your way people tend to get uncomfortable. That’s not what they want to hear. They want to hear the funny answer the “well darlin’ if I was doing any better I’d be twins but I’m pretty sure you couldn’t handle to of me could ya?” Spoken in the southern accent that makes you seem almost sincere. A wink and a smile and leaving them trying to formulate a response. A lot of times it’s such a formality to ask “how are you?” that they don’t even actually wait for a response before they move on to tell you what they want or need. It’s pretty confusing for me and triggers me to overthink. What a basic question to overthink about.

With everything going on right now I have to ask myself often if they really want my true answer. Is it concern? Is it lack of knowing what to say? Is it formal? If I answer with the truth how will that answer be received? Do I want these people to know that I’m somewhere between a laugh and a cry and that at any moment I could fall apart and make this whole situation super awkward for everyone? Do they know just them asking that question could make me reach my breaking point if I have been actively trying to hold myself together all day? So most of the time I don’t answer with anything but my one line and hope that is enough for them to move on. I hope the person on the other end of the question accepts my answer without another question or doubt and moves on because I honestly haven’t thought about it and don’t want to. It’s a loaded question and I’m not sure the answer will be what you want to hear. I’m just going to say “fine” or “I’m ok” and move along with my day.

I need to answer this very seemingly simple question. I need to answer it for me. I need to check in with myself and quit lying to myself about how I’m doing. So here it goes…it’s definitely not pretty! How am I doing? How am I doing? I’m pretty much living moment to moment. I can’t look too far ahead and I try not to look too far back. I’m a mess. I’m barely holding it all together. I’m stuck in fear and this paralyzing guilt that I’m not doing enough. However, I can’t seem to function. I can’t breathe. I can’t relax. I am currently living off of caffeine, chaos, cuss words and this bit of creativity that’s is keeping me from going completely crazy. I feel like that character in the cartoons or at the circus that does the balancing plate act. You know the one? They have the plates like a bunch of them on sticks and their spinning all of these plates, balancing them and continuously adding more and more and more. I feel like that. I feel like I am deciding which ones I can allow to fall and hit the ground, crashing, so that the rest of them stay up. I feel like dropping them all and screaming “f^€|< this sh!+! I don’t want to do this anymore!” Like a child who just lost a game and throws a tantrum because “it’s not fair!” I feel like throwing things. I feel like hitting something. I am angry at everything and everyone that played a part in this very intense situation we are in. I feel like I am out of control of everything. I feel unable to focus and unable to keep going. I’m exhausted in every single way. I am so tired but unable to sleep. I want to take my mind off of this but I can’t find anything that doesn’t make me think of her. I want my dad. I want to fix it. I feel like sitting and waiting until I get the call that says I can come get her. I feel like I’m failing everyone because I am so wrapped up in this. I feel like I can’t keep going. I feel like at any moment I will be packing up to take up permanent residence in the dark place. I feel like the next person that tells me how strong I am or that I need to take care of myself might get stabbed in the eye with a pen. I feel like every muscle in my body aches with stress, fear and worry. I’m so tense. I feel absolutely powerless. I am trying so hard to stay strong. My every second consists of me forcing smiles and trying to laugh and pretend like I’m ok even as I boil and breakdown just beneath the surface. I feel like I’m faking every interaction. I feel like I’m not allowed to fall apart because then I’m not being the mom my kids need me to be or the partner that I’m expected to be. I need a vacation from reality, decisions, stress, life and just to be able to take a full breath, but I know that destination doesn’t exist. I feel like I am making this about me. This isn’t about me. I feel like I can’t have feelings or be in a bad mood. I am not allowed to be anxious or irritable. I’ve got to pick up the pieces and figure out how to keep living while one of my pieces is gone. It’s really the most difficult part, the moving forward. I just want to go to sleep and wake up from my nightmare and not have to ever, ever go through this again. Now tell me, did you really want the truth? That’s what I thought. I will stay with my standard answers and be as convincing as possible so I don’t worry you with my feelings and problems. I’m making it. Thanks for asking!