So I have battled depression and anxiety for a very long time. It is not something that is new to me and frankly, I am sick of it. I hate waking up and feeling like something is about to happen. I have been on so many medications to try to help the symptoms that I have.
After I had my son I was elated! He was all that I had ever wanted and I finally had him. I still am beyond stoked that I get to be his mom. Even when he’s crawling all over me while I write this blog and the bag of chips that his dad gave him is now crushed into my carpet. Hey, that’s what having children is all about. But I noticed that not too long after I had him that I started to feel the anxiety and depression so much worse than I had before. I think having him made my face to the reality of my childhood and my relationships with my family. It also made me realize that he needed me and I needed to be in control of everything about him. Who watches him, how people interact with him, who I could trust to be alone with him and most of all that people treated him like family. It is something I obsess over every day and I know it is because of my childhood. I know that I can not protect him from everything, but I am going to protect him from the important things. I use to think I would be a horrible parent even though everyone around me thought I would be a good mother. I even still have some who let me know when I am going overboard. I’d put him in a bubble if I knew it would protect him from everything. But I know things will happen and I’m ok with that I just don’t want something to happen because I was negligent in some form or another. I am very aware of how much pressure I am putting on myself. But that is the point of my writing. So I can tell my side of life and my past and try to become a better person and hopefully in the process help anyone else who comes across this.
I started receiving medication for my depression and anxiety when I was about 17 years old. Every time I would start a new medication I would have hopes that it would make me feel like a functioning human and not this drain on society that I see myself being. I have hurt some of the closest people to me because of my mental state and how unstable I have been in the past. I know that most of them have forgiven me, but I have yet to forgive myself. I was not the person I was when I acted like I did when I was a young adult. I didn’t realize I had some serious issues going on and that I needed to see a professional. I blocked it out because I didn’t want to be that “statistic”. An abused child that is completely missed and broken that couldn’t be fixed. I have tried my best not to become what society has said becomes of children from broken and abused homes. So far I feel like I am doing a good job, despite the fact that I can’t interact with people the way I would like to.
About 2 months ago when I was put on a benzodiazepine and my symptoms were still in full swing I decided to open up to my primary. I have gone to her for five years and me never once told her the extent of my depression and anxiety. She had no idea that I had been abused as a child, molested, raped and lost a baby. A lot of it I had just kept to myself. When I told her some of my past and that I was not getting any better she suggested I go see a specialist to find out exactly what I was going through.
I went to the specialist about a week ago. Normally the first visit is a half hour. I was in her office for two hours. Just spilling my guts because I am so tired of holding it all in. I needed someone who could understand and not judge me know what was going on. I have never felt more understood than when I was talking with her. I told her all the symptoms I have and all the failed medications that I had been on. That is when she told me I had PTSD and Bipolar I. I was pretty sure for a long time that I had PTSD, but the bipolar hit me like a load of bricks. I didn’t know anything about it and the people I know who have it are almost unbearable people to be around. So I automatically turned myself into a self-hatred person. I have come around to it and realize that those people are not me and how they deal with their disease is not the way I deal with mine.
Just as I have tried my best not to allow my past define who I am, I am not going to allow my mental illness to define who I am. I am a loving person, a devoted wife, and mother and I plan to stay that way. I will be here for my family if they need me. I think I am going to close for today. Thank you for listening.
*I am far from a writing lol so if my writing is not the best I am sorry. Hopefully, I can work out the kinks. :)*