Friday, January 19, 2018

Sometimes, It's just hard.


Photo by K. Ellington
When you have a child with mental health issues as well as autism things get pretty murky. The world around them isn't set up to deal with it. The medical profession lacks knowledge and sensible options. Getting treatment for a child like Sammy can be near impossible. No one is equipped. No one has answers.

Not even me.

Not even close.

Not even a little bit.

My heart is breaking right now. I won't go into too much detail since I have discovered that some people in my world twist things until they are unrecognisable. I will say, Sammy is struggling right now, as am I. Our whole family is deeply shaken with uncertainty, doubt, fear,and sadness.

Worst of all there is nothing I can do to fix it.
I am powerless.
except for prayer.

So right now, it's just hard.
It's like climbing a mountain, wearing a swimsuit, in February, without shoes.
But I will keep climbing because Sammy is already up the mountain and he needs Hero Support.

so while I still don't want to deal with this. I will. I will fight the good fight and rest on my Lord. Because, sometimes it's hard...

But that doesn't mean impossible

Sunday, January 14, 2018

Everything is ...Fine

It's been months, weeks, days, whatever since I wrote here last.  I can't remember.  You see I've been in a giant black hole for months. It was surrounding every fiber of my being.

I spent days thinking about how I could kill myself in ways that my children wouldn't find me and be broken by it. I wrote and rewrote suicide notes to my children. Telling them over and over that it wasn't their fault. Telling them that I loved them. How could I say I loved them? How could I give up and say I loved them?

So I kept going.

Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. for them at least. It was unbearable some days as I forced myself to get out of bed and teach them.

One day, at my lowest point I was sitting and really ready to just give up. I had cried all the tears, I had nothing left. I was simply a giant black hole.  My sweet daughter Annabelle wandered into the kitchen and climbed up beside me.  She hugged me and said , " I am your gift, You are my gift. I love you".

This baby. I was horrified when I got pregnant with her. I was maxed out physically, emotionally,financially, and mentally. I just couldn't figure out how I would be able to care for yet another baby.
But as always God knew best and gave me her, because that moment was on the horizon. She saved me.

It prompted me to increase my medication, and I am on a much better path right now.

But that isn't why I am writing. I have been thinking about how mental health is treated in this society. People don't know what to say, or how to act when they find out you have depression. Some think they can just tell you to "snap out of it" others will say " well, it could be worse"
I assure you, we know.
we know it could be worse
we know we should be happy
we want to snap out of it
we know we have so much to be grateful for
we know we are loved
we know people need us
we know our children,families, friends,siblings, aunts, cousins... love us
we know we have so much to live for

but none of that matters.
none of it
Because the darkness is stronger than that. It swallows us whole.
We begin to believe that we are being kind to those we love by alleviating the burden created by our depression.

Depression, deep dark scary depression, is exhausting. waking up every day, getting out of bed, and even eating, takes everything we have.

sometimes that is just too much to handle .
So if you love someone with depression, just love them. be there. remind them  they are safe.  Love them. It's ok to be there with them and be silent.
You can't fix it for them. You can't make it go away. We cannot just snap out of it. Just because we seem "fine" doesn't mean we are.