Tag: #suicideawareness

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Don’t Shame Me for Seeking Help

🚩⚠️ Trigger Warning⚠️🚩

This is my Threefold. This is my threefold. That’s the resounding thought in my head as I sit scared out of my mind because # 3 of my threefold {my youngest daughter age 10} is currently alone in a strange bed. She was admitted early yesterday morning to the psychiatric children’s wing. I am beside myself with anxiety. She is only 10. I can’t be with my baby. This is too surreal. This can’t be happening…again. I’m not ready and she is too little. She’s just a child. She is my baby.

If you have been following for a while you’ll recall my post regarding #2 🚩⚠️ My Child is NOT Attention Seeking. My Child is Seeking Help 🚩⚠️ trigger warning ⚠️🚩 {please do not click this link if you are triggered by self harm or content pertaining to suicide.} this post described my experience with admitting #2 of my threefold {my middle daughter, 13} to a crisis intervention center. Here I am again speaking about the same content and a different kid. I am dealing with the same situation. I guess this is just another day in the life of the trauma drama bipolar momma bear. I am Mommin’ mental illness. I’m here to tell you, this job is hard. I’m not prepared or I’m overly prepared. Either way, this is the really hard part about being a mom. Getting help when you start realizing that you are not able to give your own child the help they need. The worst part is watching them suffer through the pain of their mental illness. They are too young to understand what is happening.

#3 has had a really rough time trying to adapt to my divorce. She is the youngest of my girls and was only 8 when I left her dad. She had begun acting out more prior to the separation. She was running away, displaying anger and struggling dealing with the pandemic. Virtual schooling, lack of interaction with peers and isolation only compounded the underlying issues that were left untreated. I’m sure this is true for a lot of children. I attributed many of her symptoms to the ‘Covid Crazy’ diagnosis. {My personal term for what we were all experiencing during the shutdown}

I was wrong. Her grades fell dramatically with virtual school. I left my husband. I couldn’t continue watching my threefold and I suffer from the actions and inactions of my ex. I needed to get out of that toxic cycle and show my threefold another way. Pro tip: don’t marry a narcissist and if you’re already in that relationship…LEAVE.

#3 had no help with school and with untreated ADHD it was nearly impossible to keep her in her room or in the living room with a laptop listening to some teacher talk about things that were of no interest to her. It was torture for all of my threefold, but she was in 2nd grade and lacked any self-discipline. It was obvious she was missing fundamental learning. It wasn’t until later I would realize that her education had been hijacked and her foundation building years of reading, comprehension, writing and math were stolen from her when her education went virtual during 2nd and 3rd grade.

When I left my ex, I sought therapy for my children and I. I was aware that my divorce would have a massive impact on their mental health {no diagnoses for my threefold yet other than #2, who was diagnosed with ODD and ADHD at the time which was untreated} I knew I would also need a sounding board myself to vent my frustrations and work through my personal feelings on leaving that relationship and the implications that decision would have on my threefold. We have maintained that therapy throughout these past couple of years. This led to psychiatric evaluations and medication therapies to help my threefold and I balance out our brain chemistry.

My threefold did deteriorate more post separation, but for reasons that I didn’t expect. I was right. They had needed treatment and therapy earlier, but due to my own untreated mental illness and the psychological abuse we endured, we swept our issues under the rug. They had needed help for years, but we all were too scared to ask for it. We knew how that conversation would end. A dad-diagnosis and more hell to deal with. It wasn’t until I got them help and they were safe to express how they always had felt that the trauma begun to unravel and the symptoms became more prevalent. They had been forcing themselves to cover the mental illness as a way to keep the peace in our unstable lives. I will forever have guilt over not seeking help and leaving sooner.

Currently, #3 is diagnosed as having depression, ADHD and Oppositional Defiance Disorder. I am familiar with the nuances of these diagnoses. I’m sure ODD will change into disruptive mood dysregulation disorder {DMDD} but what I don’t know for sure is if she will be saddled with the diagnosis of bipolar disorder that her sisters and I have been told we suffer from. At her age, that is unlikely even if she is presenting at this age just as #2 did. Same diagnoses and same behaviors. I should’ve known this would happen. I was in denial that all of my threefold would be cursed with my genetics. what I hadn’t prepared for was how difficult it would be to see my threefold spiral into periods of depression that make them feel like they need to hurt or even delete themselves to fix their problems. Life isn’t supposed to be this hard at ten, thirteen or seventeen.

#3 is a spunky girl who loves riding her bike, playing outside, jumping rope, TikTok, martial arts, doing crafts and stitch {from the Disney movie.} She has a hard time with making friends, because she is extremely bossy and territorial. She isn’t scared of a fight. She is pretty aggressive when she is upset and angry. Punching, hitting, kicking, throwing and screaming are her go to behavior when she gets upset. She is destructive when she is angry. These reactions and outbursts are mostly disproportionate to the situation. A simple request for her to go to bed, take medication, clean a mess or her room, and going to school can spiral into a knock down drag out fight from #3. Then after the aggression is the comedown. Tears, guilt, shame and regret mark the feelings from the fallout. It’s hard to parent, but I can only imagine it’s harder for her to understand what is happening inside her brain. She ends up feeling like she is just a bad kid, that this is just how she will always feel, she can’t be helped, and that she would be better off if she was no longer here.

These past couple of years have been quite the ride on the bipolar express. From #2’s struggles for nearly a year to help her get back on recovery road. A lot of issues with #1. More therapy hours than I can count and a million other issues that have come up 2021 was a hell of a ride. I was looking forward to a bit of peace and to be swimming in calmer waters. Instead I’m back to drowning.

I guess because I knew what to expect after the inpatient treatments that #2 underwent that I would be better equipped to handle #3’s admission. It’s strange, but this time it’s worse than before. Before I didn’t know how difficult that road to recovery would be. I didn’t know what I was up against. I was forced to take the uncertainty and roll with it. Sometimes it rolled over me, but I made it. More importantly #2 made it. This time is different.

I am more anxious now knowing what happens when your child goes to inpatient care. I know now that it’s a long and hard process. I know now that quick fixes don’t exist. I know this next week or two will not be the only time we need a higher level of care. I am uniquely familiar with the amount of time and energy that will be needed to make sure we are getting help. More than anything else, I know the toll it will take on my threefold and I as we walk this path again. I know that we could have the domino effect that results in relapse. This all makes me even more scared.

Before you go to judging my child and I let me tell you some facts. ADHD and ODD are marked by impulsive behavior and an inability to regulate emotions properly. My daughter doesn’t need to have ‘her ass beat’ or ‘taught a lesson’. She doesn’t need to be told, nor I that she is ‘a brat’, ‘a terrorist’, ‘spoiled’, or that she is ‘attention seeking’. She is not going to get better by being told how bad she is. I’m not going to parent better because I’m told that I’m screwing it up or how this is my fault. I am perfectly capable of beating myself up, I definitely don’t need the outside help with that.

I am sure there are a million things that I could do differently, but the fact that my child will suffer from mental illness won’t change. Fun fact. My parenting didn’t cause my child to have a mental illness, my genetics did. I’m positive that my actions and reactions can exacerbate her symptoms if I don’t handle it properly. I will be the first to admit that I have mishandled and missed the mark on occasion while mommin’ mental illness. After all, my handbook on the rules of parenting was just as nonexistent as yours.

I have sat patiently and responded with calmness while being screamed at by my own child about how much she hates me and wished I was dead. I’ve been cursed at, kicked, hit at, and had things thrown at me. I’ve questioned my own parenting skills and abilities to manage my threefold’s mental illness. I’ve held my child after her outburst and told her it would be ok as she cried and apologized. I’ve taken tv’s, tablets, social outings, and the millions of other things she enjoys. She doesn’t care. She will tell you herself that those consequences don’t phase her or make her want to try to better. I get notes home from school about behavior and lack of effort. She doesn’t care. She has been in therapy for 18 months but I can’t make her participate or use the skills. It doesn’t work for her. Not when she is emotional and can’t regulate those emotions. She just does, without thoughts of how it will work out later. If you remind her of the consequences she will scream that she doesn’t care. So you can tell me I’m not hard enough on her. What do you do when hard doesn’t work, soft doesn’t work, and suddenly it’s like a ticking time bomb you know could go off at any time and you can’t change it?

I’ve tried everything from attention to ignoring, rewards and consequences, behavior charts, parenting coaches, family sessions and a million other things. I’m not sitting back just hoping this phase of life is just that, a phase. I need to find a solution but I need help. I can admit that. I can see this is beyond my own abilities. I don’t offer the help she needs. It’s time for drastic measures. Even if that wasn’t what I wanted to admit. Even if I tried amongst the recommended higher level of care. I just didn’t want this for her, not this young.

For those that are thinking I couldn’t handle my child and dropped her off at a facility to allow someone else to fix this problem for me. Think again. I was told she would need to be assessed before she could return to school after she had an outburst in class because she was frustrated with feelings of not doing an assignment correctly. It wasn’t by choice that I was in that same waiting room with #3 as I had been with #2 only 15 months prior shortly after this whole journey began. It was not my intention to to have my daughter admitted for defiant behaviors followed by suicidal ideation. Mental illness doesn’t discriminate based on age, it only presents differently. I knew she needed help, but I didn’t expect that they would be admitting her to the children’s unit of the psychiatric facility that my middle daughter had been a patient of during her first admission.

This battle of bedtime, cleaning up messes and reasons I couldn’t understand that seemed like nothing at all, resulted in these explosive outbursts. The behaviors have been increasing since she was 8. What once happened only a couple times per year has now been a couple of times per week for months. I didn’t throw my hands up and decide I couldn’t deal with her behavior anymore. Though believe me I’m not going to lie and say it hadn’t crossed my mind to do this or something else sooner.

I could write for hours and spit statistics at everyone and bore them with the details of the diagnoses from the clinical perspective. I don’t do that not because those facts don’t matter, but because it’s more personal and real than the statistics will give. Instead I share my personal story, the stories of my threefold. I don’t share for sympathy or for attention. I don’t share because I want people to feel sorry for us. I share our lives and our experiences because we have lived in the shadows for too long. I share because the stigma surrounding mental illnesses is that we are weak, lazy, attention seeking, and use our diagnoses as excuses. I share not to make myself or my threefold vulnerable to that type of scrutiny. I share this for the other parents caring for children suffering from mental illness who feel like they are alone in the fight. I share for the people who suffer. The isolation and the hiding our struggles doesn’t make this journey easier. I don’t want to feel like I’m not allowed to seek help for my threefold when they need it because people around me will judge me. There are too many parents who have the shame of this stigma surrounding their lives that their children are suffering silently. That shame will not make us more likely to seek help. I can only hope that sharing our story and struggles can help stomp out the stigma. We can’t keep silencing those that suffer. The stakes of that silence are too high.

Stay positive. We’ve got this ☮️❤️😊~M

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Truth Be Told…

⚠️⚠️⚠️Trigger Warning!!!⚠️⚠️⚠️

I’m going to tell you a true story that I have not told many people. It’s the truth that I’ve hidden from everyone, even those closest to me for as long as I can remember. I’m telling this story because my threefold is celebrating huge milestones in their recovery and people don’t seem to understand why I celebrate these milestones instead of just saying ‘I’m proud of you.’

Celebrating the milestone of three, six, and twelve months being free of self harm behaviors is a BIG freaking deal for my threefold. It’s a big deal because we’ve been through hell trying to reach these milestones and we have taken the path to healing. After numerous hospitalizations, thousands of hours of therapy, a lot of self reflection, and deciding to fight for the future we have reached these milestones. It’s been a hard and scary journey, but the end result is so worth the celebration.

So that big truth and that scary secret I’ve hidden from even those closest to me is that I was the 14 year old girl that took a blade to her body trying to escape the pain. I was the 16 year old girl who starved herself for days at a time and purged everything she did eat to fit the stereotype that the world told me I needed to be in order to be beautiful. I’ve been the 25 year old who held a gun to her own temple and fought back pulling the trigger to escape the pain. I’ve also been the 35 year old who sat on a bathroom floor with a bottle of pills that could only find three reasons to hold me back from swallowing the whole bottle and chasing it down with the alcohol in my other hand. That’s the ugly journey of self harm, suicidal ideation, undiagnosed, and unmedicated mental illness.

I’ve also been the person who thought so little of herself that she allowed others to inflict that same pain onto me. I’ve worn the bruises and still bare the scars of the many times I’ve allowed people to use me as their own way to feel better. I’ve allowed my body to be torn apart by the men I chose over my own self respect. From cigarette burns, to being pushed down steps, to being clocked and choked. It’s a reality I’ve lived in for far too long. It’s a part of me now that I can’t erase. The hate filled words and the demeaning labels I’ve been told are burned into my brain. The many times I was told what I was and wasn’t became the only words I could hear. Those negative identifiers became the voices in my own head long after the people were gone.

I’ve been accused of attention seeking, it being a phase, and that I was just being too much. I didn’t get the help I needed at 14, 16, 17, 25, or 35 because I was told it was a me problem not an illness in need of treatment. My mother didn’t acknowledge it. My father didn’t see it. My ex-husband told me the medications made me worse and the ‘head doctors didn’t know me well enough to know what they were talking about. I’ve allowed everyone in my life around me convince me I wasn’t bipolar, even when the symptoms were obvious. Even after being hospitalized for 6 weeks to treat the symptoms I allowed someone to tell me the medication made me worse and it belonged in the garbage. So that’s where that medication went. I waited over 20 years to seek help for my mental illness. It’s not a life I can stand by and watch my threefold suffer through for themselves.

I refuse to allow me to be the barrier that stops my threefold from getting help when I know the dire consequences of that choice. I won’t be the voice in their head that tells them that they are the problem. I refuse to stand by and watch my threefold struggle like I did and live a life they don’t have to before they find a better way. Not when I have the power to help them find that life now. Not when the help is available and they show me they need it. I can see it, because I too have been that young girl struggling to find a person who would help me. I didn’t get that, but I will make damn sure they do.

I’m not glorifying this behavior by celebrating my children fighting for their future. I’m celebrating because there is cause for celebration when you overcome the bad and the ugly of mental illness. It took me too long to share my journey. I don’t want them to feel like they should hide theirs. It took me far too long to find the help I needed and if I can prevent them from taking the path I did, I will.

I celebrate the milestones because I know the struggle to reach the milestones too. I don’t talk about my struggle through self harm because it’s ugly and it’s the hard part that most don’t relate to. I haven’t shared it because everyone has told me that I’m the reason my threefold struggles. My threefold doesn’t even know most of my struggles and how bad it was. I never wanted them to see me as that person. It’s not a side I wanted to share and I don’t want them to believe self harm or suicidal ideation is normal. It’s not normal! It’s a sign of mental illness and the statistics that come with it are scary as hell.

You can judge me, but I am my own worst critic in the parenting department. I question if I am doing it right all the time. However, because I see their growth, their progress and their fight I know that I am doing exactly what I should to see them to a better life than what I had. I’m making that life for myself and for my threefold. We create our own path forward and the future is too bright to live in the darkness of the past. Don’t live your life waiting for the good, find the good in life. That’s the only way! Stay positive! ☮️❤️😊~M

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Emotional Rollercoaster

This weekend, I was all in my feelings {as my kids would’ve said probably years ago, but I’m always late.} I was emotional for reasons that made sense to me and to me alone and other reasons that made sense to those around me. I was riding my own crazy hot mess express freight train straight into bipolarville where manic episodes meet depressive ones and triggers meet emotional roller coaster rides. Then these rides travel down the roads of my feelings leading to pit stops along the way of irrational thought and anxiety, breakthroughs and breakdowns, scattered thoughts, and sanity that is single handedly fighting for the spotlight back from these conflicting mix of emotions. That’s my best description of triggered anxiety while fighting against the sleep deprivation that too much sleep from days prior brings. This complicated run-on sentence is also sponsored by mixed episodes of bipolar disorder.

People hear more often about the depressive episodes and the manic episodes that are famous for the original manic depression name of bipolar depression’s previous identifier. When a person says ‘mood disorder’ this is the usually what people think of. Most don’t know the different types of mood disorders nor the different types of Bipolar that a person can have. They don’t understand the nuances of the disease and they tend to mix up facts due to the stigma placed on bipolar disorder.

Episodic cycling is what makes Bipolar different from other mood disorders. Episodes often range in severity and length of time depending on treatment and type of bipolar disorder a person is diagnosed with. I experience mixed episodes with my bipolar which is characterized by having a more often cycling of symptoms that can overlap each other, have symptoms of both mania and depression simultaneously and a lack of recovery period before the opposite cycle begins. This type and cyclomathic bipolar are two types that are difficult to spot and diagnose due to the more rapid cycling process that characterizes each disorder. This is due to the length of episode which means that a person experiencing both mania and depression in rapid succession might have severe depressive symptoms that overshadow the manic symptoms that are more likely missed.

Bipolar I (which #2 of my threefold is suspected of having) is the more intense presence of mania symptoms than Bipolar II. Bipolar II (what #1 of my threefold has been diagnosed with), is considered less severe as type 1. Type 2 presents with less intense symptoms of manic involvement, their manic episodes are decreased and termed as hypo manic.

Most people, including myself, are quicker to dismiss mania symptoms because it’s almost like a reprieve from the depression that is all consuming. Mania doesn’t always seem as bad as it is. It seems like that is what people love to see. Mania makes you feel on top of the world, confident, brilliant and you have an energy that makes you so on the go. Manic symptoms seem harmless but that is untrue. It involves risky behavior, recklessness, and makes a person not care about the consequences of those actions. You may suddenly spend all your money on unnecessary items. Maybe it looks like sexual promiscuity or infidelity. It can show up as aggression and stealing. It is a myriad of bad behaviors that are almost like the person has no care on the world and is invincible. Mania is much less recognizable in the hypo manic episodes also. The depression is so much easier to pinpoint and the main reason why people find that depressive diagnosis easier than that of bipolar.

The depressive symptoms of each are similar in severity and the lengths of time vary from person to person. The manic episodes are the determining factor of defining bipolar instead of major depression which is unipolar with or without mania involvement. Depression presents in the classic ways with one major distinction that is more likely to point to bipolar. This major differentiation is in that episodic nature of bipolar. No manic symptoms would lead to a diagnosis of depression. You only need to have had one manic episode to have a diagnosis of bipolar. If it’s missed or mistaken as something else then you leave likelihood of reporting those symptoms is likely to be the key that changes the treatment plan from one that isn’t working to one that will work.

There is so much stigma surrounding bipolar which is why those who suffer tend to hide their illness from the people around them. It’s why people don’t accept the diagnose easily or seek treatment for themselves. It’s also tricky to diagnose and most doctors aren’t quick to do so. It’s genetic with a high probability of family links. This is why it’s not unheard of or unusual to have bipolar diagnoses in multiple generations of a family tree. If an adult has an established diagnosis in a family then it is much easier to begin seeing signs and symptoms at an earlier age and begin treatment earlier than it is to diagnose in an adult who has never expressed the symptoms they displayed in an accurate way or suffered from the more severe complications or consequences that this disorder brings on.

My emotional state was brought on more from lack of sleep after having too much sleep this past week, an increase in anxiety and a lot of nostalgia as #1 of my threefold prepares for high school graduation, college, and turning 18. However due to our struggles, my threefold is hyper aware of the slight changes of behavioral patterns and moods than the average teenagers. It also has come from some process work I have been doing on that little {enter sarcasm} goal of moving on from my mom guilt from the past and from the person I was when my bipolar was left untreated for years on end. I have also been working on this small issue I’ve had with holding grudges, resentment, and forgiveness. {Actually I’m the worst about if you hurt me I will remember forever.}

Thankfully I’m not actually in an episode of mania or depression currently and am on a regimen of medication that helps to prevent that cycling of intense episodes. I know my triggers, how to care for myself, my symptoms and my plan of action in the event of severe episodes. It’s very {knock on wood and glass!} calm in the unpredictable waters of bipolar at my house right now. It’s been a breath of fresh air after the year of drowning in crisis after crisis that in the present moment storms aren’t raging through the waters and everyone is safely wading in the shallow end. In less metaphorical terms for the first time in years no one is amidst an episode at the current moment and no one is in crisis. That is a beautiful thing in a life of a mom with bipolar with kids with bipolar that is hard for people to understand. Why would I celebrate us just being okayish?

Being ok for us, all at the same time, means medication changes and adjustments have ceased because we have a regimen that is working for us and consists of tweaks not new meds to find the combination that works. It is a celebration of a taste of stability not normalcy. It is a celebration of growth and progress. It’s being excited to track your mood because you have seen marked improvement. It’s a time where we can accomplish goals and we can be proud of ourselves. It also means we are in self harm recovery {another thing people don’t understand why we celebrate.}

Recovery from self harm is like that of addiction and just like you would celebrate milestones of someone who hasn’t had a drink in six weeks we celebrate the same milestones for self harm. It’s been over a year since #1 self harmed, nearly 6 months for #2, and for me {yep I’ve been there too} it’s been multiple years. These milestones mean that medications {and awareness of the consequences} therapy, and our own ability to safely communicate our feelings have come to a healthy meeting place. That is something worth celebrating at my house.

Thanks for attending my ted talk on bipolar disorder and it’s presentation. It’s a hot topic discussion that no one seems to want to talk about. For those unaffected it seems to have the lack of education almost like why learn about something that you have no use for? Like learning to do wood working when you have no interest in craftsmanship and no plans to ever use the skills. I find it important for even those unaffected because the informative awareness can help assist a friend or a family member distinguish symptoms and marked changes in behavior. If you know someone who needs help or is in crisis please seek help. You could be the difference between someone seeking help or risking their life. Be positive! You’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊 -M Ps. If you have another three minutes for personal research I have created this anonymous survey https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/66K3QSL on mental illness. I would love for you to participate! Thanks in advance!

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Blessed by the Mess:

Last year I spent my first Thanksgiving without my threefold. I was so upset and felt empty. I tried keeping myself busy, I tried sleeping as much as I could and begged for ‘E’ {who I was dating} to stay with me, even though I knew he needed to go to pick up his own kiddo to spend turkey day with her. That afternoon was the worst time. I didn’t do anything {except wallow in my own feeling} and due to COVID-19 there were no family gatherings to distract me or give me some semblance of Thanksgiving. Thankfully {no pun intended} I had convinced ‘E’ that we, his midget included, should all go have dinner since his extended family all lived out of state and we both had to work the following day, and the VID had pretty much put a damper on life in general. We did. We laughed, had cheese sticks, brownies with ice cream, chicken tenders and fries and spent our first holiday together at an Applebee’s of all places. Then not wanting to go home to an empty bed we went to Walgreens and made fools of ourselves. It was memorable, and I’m so grateful that they made me feel better about my first holiday without my threefold. The following weekend all four kids {defcon four} ‘E’ and I had our first family outing all together where everyone seemed to get along and I was excited that maybe this could be something good. My threefold commented on ‘how happy I looked’ with ‘E’. A comment that still resonates with me when they say it today. I was happy. I am even happier now.

Last November, I was still on a 50/50 parenting schedule with my ex, navigating a rollercoaster divorce, and easily manipulated by my ex and the situation. I was freshly ‘single’ and trying my hand with someone new and putting my best face forward. I was still fairly new at work, but had recently really found my stride and my benefit to the team. I was parenting, but I wasn’t always present even while in the same room and definitely not near as accessible. I was in therapy beginning to work on resolving my past, but still was using old coping mechanisms that were unhealthy to get me through the hard days. I had panic attacks often and had grown accustomed to numbing out my emotions so I wouldn’t have to feel them. My anxiety was at an 8/10 most days and hadn’t gotten better even with the prescription medication, coping mechanisms and therapy. It wasn’t pretty, but I was still trying to make it appear nice and neat all put together and dressed our lives up for conversations and pictures.

Reality hit hard when, the Monday after Thanksgiving of 2020, #2 of my threefold was admitted to an acute inpatient psychiatric hospital for self harm and suicidal ideation for the first time. {this hospitalization marked the first of five we’ve had over the past 12 months} She was only 12. I didn’t understand. The Earth fell out from under my feet and I went into free fall. ‘E’ didn’t know me ‘like that’ and I tried with everything in me to get him to ‘take the out’ and just ‘walk away. no harm. no foul. no hard feelings’ I gave him every reason to leave. I told him we were too complicated, broken, difficult and too much over and over again. He refused even though I didn’t know why he would choose to stay with us through all of that. He did. He didn’t just stand by, he stepped up in ways I never thought possible and became the person who has helped carry us through this year, all of us. He got a lot of push back, misplaced anger, a lot of hard time, and had to be the ‘perky positivity peddler’ probably even when he didn’t want to be because we didn’t know how to love him the way that he was loving us. We didn’t get it then. I can’t even describe the gratitude and love my threefold and I have for him after this year now that we recognize that he chose us even when we gave him every reason to leave. He stayed. He loved us through the healing and loved us as we learned to love ourselves. He has earned his place in our hearts.

While #2 was still hospitalized I moved into our new home. The day we moved I can vividly recall the meeting with the case worker for abuse allegations against my ex. I covered for my ex that day along with my other two children as we stated ‘he isn’t abusive, that was in the past’. I will always regret allowing myself to be manipulated and intimidated enough to do that and for my other two girls who went against their sister to protect their dad, only following my example. This wouldn’t be the first or the last time I allowed the manipulation and intimidation my ex served us dictate my life decisions or the decisions that I made for my threefold. That week I was moving into my home my ex begged me to meet him and I was terrified to go. I went anyway because he said ‘it’s important’. I gained a large piece of myself and my strength back that night as he read the apology he had written apologizing for all that he had ever done to the girls and I. I stared at him and he stared back with tears in his eyes and told him ‘no, there was too much damage done to turn back now.’ The 15 years prior flashing in front of my eyes as I tried to rationalize my decision. I also had the previous few months of my life with ‘E’ and the hope of what the future could look like with him vs. how I felt that the future would look like with my ex running through my head. I am so thankful that even in the turmoil that I thought through it with rationality {I don’t usually display rational thought when stressed} and chose neither my ex or ‘E’. I chose my threefold and what I wanted for myself and for them. I continued my relationship with ‘E’. However, that day I knew it would always be my threefold before everyone and everything else, regardless what I wanted. It was the first decision that changed the trajectory of our lives.

This Thanksgiving looks so different from that Thanksgiving dinner at Applebee’s, that first ‘family’ outing with Defcon 4, ‘E’ and I, and the two weeks afterwards with #2’s hospitalization. I won’t be sharing the holidays this year. I don’t have to have conversations with my ex about anything other than an update on #3 every now and again. There are no more cover ups and a lot less fear. The manipulation is still attempted but I am quicker to recognize the behavior. Instead, this Thanksgiving we are celebrating all the things we have to be grateful for, together as a blended family. We mark the one year anniversary of moving into this house that we’ve made a home. Multiple college acceptance letters for #1 and good grades, plus lots of self improvement. The recovery of #2 being nearly 6 months free of self harm and successfully discharging from treatment 6 weeks ago. Martial arts, good grades, making friends and behavior improvement with #3. Drama club, honor roll and help with coping with anxiety for BK {bonus kid}. Everyone being back in school {in person NOT virtual}, adjusting and doing well. The many blessings we’ve had along the way from ‘go fund me’, to meals, & help with medical bills. That I have an amazing job where I could work and care for my threefold. I am grateful that I was promoted and received two raises this year and so did ‘E’ with a 3rd coming soon for him! The ability to gather with our family this year. And so much more! There are a lot of things that we do differently these days than we did before, but they are all in an effort of making us better.

I am so proud of us all. I am proud because even as we collectively faced the hardest year we have had to face thus far, both individually and as a family, we have come out on the other side closer, better, stronger and more positive than we ever were before. As I reflect on where we are now, I can’t help but think how different things were last year in comparison. How different I am. How different we all are. I don’t think that I ever could’ve imagined how tumultuous, life-changing, or the difficulties the last year brought to our family. I didn’t see any of it coming as I sat at that Applebee’s a year ago missing my threefold. As much hardship and heartbreak as we endured this year, I still can recognize how much good was inspired from the hard times we’ve experienced. We overcame every obstacle and challenge that came our way and persevered. We will continue to overcome our hurdles, together. We are still working through many things and rebuilding what was broken and finding the pieces from the broken parts of our past, but I am amazed at all the positive actions and steps that were taken despite the challenges we’ve faced. The good we have today definitely outweighs the bad we were up against last year. We found ourselves, we found each other, we grew closer, we learned lessons and found a way towards healing. We love bigger and appreciate more. We look for the message in every mess. I wouldn’t ask for the hardship and the struggle, but I am thankful that we have found the silver linings and found ways for us to grow and heal despite it all. We have been blessed beyond measure and those blessings continue to show up in our lives. Today I will recognize our strength and determination to keep fighting for our future. We have truly been blessed by our mess. Today I challenge you to have an attitude of gratitude. Be thankful! Love big! Show gratitude! There is always something to be grateful no matter the circumstances.

Happy Thanksgiving! ☮️❤️😊~M

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Surviving to Thriving.

Discharge Day was this week and I’ve never been happier to close a chapter of life than I am this one. We have a long road ahead, but this week we celebrate a big milestone. 2 {the middle child, 13} is ready to transition back to traditional school and into full outpatient aftercare. It’s an amazing accomplishment. D-day marked the 134th day of no self harm behavior. Yes, I will celebrate that day and everything this day means for our family, my threefold, defcon four, the sensational six and for our path forward.

It’s been a hard year. It’s been full of change, stress, hard times, hopelessness & mixed emotions. This year has also shown us that we can conquer all things together. We have amazing people on our side & I am so grateful for each person whether you offered a listening ear, a helping hand, a dollar, a prayer, good vibes, checked in or reached out. It’s been a uniquely challenging year. It’s been an emotional rollercoaster. However, we have gotten an education on mental health. We were given a choice to keep hiding in the darkness of shame and fear, hiding the truth of our challenges OR we could step out of that darkness and speak about what has been happening in our lives. I’m glad we chose the latter. That choice has allowed a little light and a lot of humanity to be placed on the struggles some face with mental illnesses and gave a voice to my threefold who have had a difficult time speaking on their feelings.

I was stunned to see how many people on my personal page had a child or grandchild who had a similar struggle they faced behind the closed doors of their homes. Then on my Facebook page for my threefold the messages, comments, and likes came pouring in after I wrote the raw piece about 2’s hospitalization . It’s lonely, hard, helpless and stressful to be the parent of a child with mental health issues and trauma when they go into crisis, then you add in more kids with mental illness, your own, and divorce. I’ve been living in between the rock and the hard place for some time now. I’ve tried to maintain a positive outlook, good attitude and not sink into the depths of depression and anxiety. I will be honest I’m human and I promise I have experienced every human emotion over these past few months.

I realized the why behind the stigma throughout this year as well. It’s not understood and it is often judged harshly. If you say it out loud it must be more for “attention” than reaching out for help. I ask you to educate yourself {and your children} if you have those negative thoughts about those of us who seek help not only professionally but also within the circle of friends. My threefold are only a few in millions of kids that suffer, they aren’t special in their diagnoses. They are unique because our family decided we needed more than just professional support. We needed personal support also. We received that support in many people near and far. We also got the criticism and judgements of other people, strangers, family, and friends. I am grateful for both. I now value my time and role more. I advocate better for my threefold now and I found that I’m not the only mom {chaos coordinator) that is going through a similar situation. I found people I never would have and learned things some may have not felt comfortable sharing. I’ve received a lot of support emotionally, financially, and physically this year. I’ve also changed my own outlook on mental health, mental illness, and began helping others who have reached out to me. I’ve been able to help people with navigating a divorce. I’ve helped people formulate a plan on leaving an abusive relationship. I’ve helped people with mental health struggles. I’ve been an ear for several people that are going through similar struggles. I haven’t been afforded the opportunity to touch people’s lives financially, but I definitely want to create that platform and make a difference in people’s lives. I personally know how financially draining the process is. Without the continued support of family and friends through our fundraising efforts we wouldn’t be where we are today, we wouldn’t be at discharge week.

I won’t let the critics take up space in my life or my energy. I choose today to celebrate 2’s discharge from her hospitalization. I will celebrate the 136 days we have like I did numbers 7, 14, 30, 45, 60 – and so on. Today I will celebrate her decision to fight for herself {to fight with me}. I celebrate the strength, courage, vulnerability, honesty, and faith it took her to commit to a better future. I celebrate going back to school. I celebrate the successful end of treatment that has been continuous since June 6th. I celebrate the hope we have for normalcy. I celebrate this day like it’s another birthday, because in some ways it is exactly that. My child in early June that I checked into an inpatient facility for suicidal thoughts, ideation and attempts is not the same child that I discharged from intensive crisis management. My child is much more than a list of complicated diagnoses and no longer broken down to the point of not seeing a future for herself. She was angry, she was impulsive, she was depressed, she was in a constant state of fear, and she was in pain. Today I picked up my little girl and she cried as we drove away from the facility, more than she did when she was admitted. She was happy to be headed back to a semblance of routine and typical teenage life. She is proud of herself. She finally sees a future. She sees the worth of her own life. She sees the payoff of 4 1/2 grueling months of hospitalization. She sees the path forward. That vision brought me to tears. The relief I felt in actually taking a breath and finally truly believing it’s going to be ok was magical.

Lastly, they may or may not read this but I’m going to do some shout outs…I know, cringeworthy. I don’t do short and sweet, but I’m going to try. {ha} E~my ppp {perky positivity peddler} my rock. You have kept me from losing all the sanity I have left this year. You’ve been the our biggest source of support and encouragement. You’ve picked me up off the floor and have drug me out of the dark place {kicking & screaming} more times than I can count. I know this hasn’t been easy, but I will never be able to express my appreciation, gratitude or my love for you. You were meant to be with me during this, I know it. I love you.

DEFCON Four- 1-you make me smile and are the most caring person I’ve ever known. You made me remember that there is still good. You’re a ray of sunshine that lights up the other people around you. I love you & I am proud of your growth & accomplishments this year. You are becoming a person who has the capability to do anything~better yet YOU finally are seeing that too. 3- my baby, you have made me learn patience. You have made me see things differently. You have challenged me. You’ve also made me realize that even though it’s tough we have to have fun. You make me remember what kind of mom I want to be. I see you my bug, and I see that you want to be the best you. You give it some time, and you’ll grown into it. Keep trying, everything will get better. I love you bug and I hope you always know that. BK {bonus kid} You crack me up! You kept me smiling and checked on me. You helped all the girls. You’re an amazing person. I’m honored to get to be a part of your life. I appreciate you making my threefold your family too. Youre an awesome and beautiful person. I love you. Last but not least 2. Oh my little love, you rocked my world this year and turned it upside down and inside out. You also made me find a strength I didn’t know was in me. I found my grind and my hustle. I found the true meaning of a mother’s love. You made me realize how much I need all of you. I realized that it was time for big changes. They came, ready or not. Your progress and fight has inspired me on many levels. You’re a bad ass. To see your transformation and your dedication to recovery will be a inspiration to all those around you. Thank you for taking the help you received. I am so proud of you. We aren’t threefold, defcon 4, the sensational six when there is a missing piece. This is a marathon not a sprint, but I know together all of us will continue to move forward and find healing.

To everyone who has helped, shared, prayed, commented message or reached out ~ THANK YOU! My girls and their strength is what has gotten me through my own hard times this year. We have all grown exponentially and we are all committed to working to be better each day. I am so proud of my girls and our family. The journey is far from over but we are happy to begin writing the next chapter and with that we hope we don’t only survive it, but we begin to thrive. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for everything you have done this year and your support moving forward to the future that these girls deserve. ☮️❤️😊~M