Motherhood, Madness, God and Me

Mindfulness is not new to me. When I was in 6th form and was suffering huge family upheaval (3 house moves in years, new baby, new step dad, new siblings, contact issues with birth father, mother with severe postnatal depression and step dad going (successfully) back to rehab) the school nurse was asked to help me with my anxiety levels. She talked me through what I later learned (10 years later) was a mindfulness body scan. I was reminded of this whenever I met an anxious mother and would talk them through this meditation. One day, whilst myself working as a school nurse I came across the nurse who taught me this technique. She didn't remember me, and was now working in mental health. A mother praised how I had helped her with relaxation techniques in a meeting we were both attending. I admitted after the meeting that it was this lady who had taught me when I was 17 and anxious. I revisited relaxation during my first pregnancy. Hideous hyperemesis     consumed me...

It was said kindly and it's true. Nobody can make me feel differently, except me. It lays heavy on my heart and has done all afternoon. I can't do it. I have tried. I have tried 'health visitor-ing' myself. I repeat scriptures over and over. I say to myself and my inner child that I am loved, lovable, precious and good enough. I have prayed for strength. I have prayed for peace. I've waited. I've tried my hardest to leave my pain, my shame, my failings at the foot of the cross. I listen to other Christians who repeat over and over I must trust God. That this will be OK, no brilliant, in the end. I say it over and over. Yet my heart is heavy. Not metaphorically either. It feels like a stone crushing my chest, restricting my breathing sometimes. It hurts. I know that none of you can pick me up and make this go away, even if you wanted to. Listening to me, holding me, it helps. It doesn't fix it though. I can't change my attitude towards myself. I do...

In my meeting today, still looking for any positive, Susanna reassured me that I am still the good person I used to be. The good mother. We spoke about how I have everything I wanted. My dream of having children. How I loved them being babies. How I enjoyed them. How now I don't. I can't. We spoke about how I have written to my children. How I want them to remember me as a good, kind person and not who I am now. What I put in my letters, I said, was because I never want them to feel how I do. I spoke about how I try to "counsel" myself and say I am good enough, and good enough is fine, and my kids are fine and will grow up fine. I am sick and I can't do what I used to and that's OK. It's OK not to enjoy parenting. It's hard and kids are annoying at times. That's OK. But I don't believe it. It doesn't sound truth for me. Fake it till you make it. Parent yourself how you parented your babies. Say to yourself all those things you write ...

How do you get better? How do you recover? Do you suddenly wake with hope? Do you feel differently? Do you just notice after it has happened? What is recovery? Is recovery real?  How long does recovery take? Is it even possible? How will I know what recovery looks like? Why does it take so long? So long I gave up hope. What do I need to do now? To end this nightmare forever. I don't know how much longer I can bear this. How can I continue? To face another day. It feels like this will never end. They say it happens slowly. That recovery is possible for me. Do they really know that? Can it really be true? Is recovery possible? Is there a flicker of hope? Or is it just a fairy tale that's not truth? Each day that passes by, Hope slips further away. I feel this is life forever. The tunnel light seems dimmer. No hope, no light, just darkness forever more. I cannot see past this. The pain overwhelms me. I'm deep in a pit of despair. Recovery is a ...

I saw a meme on Facebook today. It said "you need to love me a little louder today" Sometimes, when you hate yourself. When you cannot think of any nice thing about you. When you cannot find a single lovable thing about you. You need to be told. Of course, others love isn't going to fix your self esteem in the long term. Good therapy will eventually, slowly, restore faith in yourself, or give it for the first time. That is very important. Long term change and improvement will come from knowing yourself and being comfortable with who you are and that you have an intrinsic worth not based on other's opinion. However, this doesn't happen overnight. It takes months, years even. A little "loud" love might just be enough of a plaster to stop somebody bleeding out. To do this work, the person needs to be alive and have enough hope that love is possible. If someone breaks a leg, for a while they need driving around. It's not forever. Time, treatment in ...

I am a should person. A should person is generally quite miserable. A should person is also loyal, honest, hard working and usually quite productive. A should person has a good sense of morals. They know how people should behave. They know the rules and they follow them. They set themselves rules and boundaries too and follow them meticulously. You know a job will be done well with a should person. A should person is their own biggest critic. They believe that they should and can manage anything. They do not do failure well. A should person will always be sorry for letting someone down. Should people are generally in demand because they feel they should help others. They are often very servant hearted. A should person also has rules she believes others should keep too. These can be rules that diminish someone else's responsibility. That others shouldn't be expected to do as much work, shouldn't be expected to manage alone, shouldn't be sad, shouldn't miss out....

I am so sick of being cast as the Bad guy around here. I'm trying so hard to fight against having the view that I am an awful person who is unworthy of love, recognition or kindness. It sucks when your automatic view is to blame yourself and convince yourself of responsibility for all the sadness in the world. Some people just can't help piling on more evidence that these beliefs are in fact true. I didn't always feel I was bad. I used to think I had to be good and I had to be kind and do what I was told, and put in 100% and never fail. I had high standards but although I felt I always could do more I felt that most the time I was almost there, that at least I tried to do the right thing and generally was a good intentioned person. I am very much the bad guy at the moment. My family expect me to carry things for them, if I can't, or I disagree, I am publicly berated on Facebook, or abusive or passive aggressive messages are sent to me. I am the bad guy in my friends...

I have spent the last few days despairing. Sobbing whenever somebody spoke to me, doubting that I will ever fully recover, worrying my relationships with my husband and friends will be forever changed for the worse or even over. However, despite the tears and depression, which is still as deep and dark as ever, for the first time in 7 months I don't see that this illness will kill me. For the last half a year I have had a longing for death. A sense that it was imminent and inevitable that I would take my own life. Today I am depressed, sad, afraid and full of anxiety. I don't want to die though. I accept I can recover. I am scared of how recovery will look. I know it's going to be hard and painful, as is rebuilding the relationships depression has stolen. Some of those relationships may never be rebuilt. That's heartbreakingly sad. I will survive though. Depression kills. It's not just sadness. It's not 'being a bit down'. The episode I have been suff...