Motherhood, Madness, God and Me

Today was the best day. Today I returned to the capable main carer of two hot, hyper, tired kids. It was amazing. From 10-4 we ran around the farmyard looking for fairies, we painted pottery, we dealt with the inevitable tantrums, we picnicked,ice creamed and saw the circus show.I possibly spoilt them more than usual (the balloon animal and glitter tattoos would probably have been vetoed had I not spent a lot of the summer in hospital or being supervised). I'm me, I've reclaimed a bit of me. My two sweaty, dirty kids have had their mum back. They responded well to me being in charge again. Adequate boundary pushing, not too much though, and of course there were disagreements and stamping feet. I dealt with it, calmly, responsively and we all survived. Praise God for today, for my kids, for joy and for not letting me give up so I can still be here and be a mum!

When I was admitted nobody showed me around. Nobody told me you have to line up. So I didn't eat for the first couple of days. I was too scared to open my door. The ward was very unsettled. The nurses explained to my husband the ward was full of unwell patients and due to close for refurbishment. They were short staffed. There was no recovery group, art therapy or 1:1s. It was where patients cried and shouted, ran around naked stating they had been raped by staff. It was where nurses shouted "breakfast" and "medication" and shouted at you if you didn't come right away. It was a locked ward. The bathroom light was broken and a staff member told me I should shower in the dark or go earlier. After a few days I became less scared. I was moved to a shared room with a very quiet lady and our own bath. I started to draw and paint in the lounge, mostly bible inspired creations. I'd cry at visitors who came in looking worried and left with tears in their eyes as

I keep on starting blogs, then not having time to post, or not wanting to share teal and raw things, or getting upset about having no followers. I have however been keeping a diary since early July. I have lots of back dated rawness to add to the internet in the hope of reaching some kind I catharsis or helping somebody not feel totally alone. Today I need to write. I am hurting. I feel lost. I don't know who to trust. Most people who know me know that a couple of months ago I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Most people have probably gathered I've been suffering a while. I am afraid on reflection, that I may have walked so far down an unimaginable path of despair that most people haven't wanted to follow. I have been shown love. The church member who is a doctor in the psych unit who came to pray with me, sent me bible verses and gave a reassuring hand squeeze when I walked into church the first time since discharge. The ladies from my bible study who have turned