Todays guest biatch is Tegan
(this post may be triggering for those with mental health or self harm issues)
{Why the guest biatches? Click here}
Next month it has been 4 years since the last time that I was hospitalised as a mental health patient. It’s also been 4 years since the last time I hurt myself bad enough to need hospital treatment. In that time I have only hurt myself once, over 3 years ago. You would think I must have all together right? You couldn’t be further from the truth.
The trouble with coping mechanisms, no matter how socially acceptable or not they are, when shit gets hard, you always fall back on them. They are the first thing you think about when familiar stresses rear their ugly head. The difference now? I realise the negative effect those coping mechanisms have on my life. Does it mean that I ever stop thinking about them? No it doesn’t.
The last six or more months I have been in a deep funk. A funk that has it’s ups and downs. Some days I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Other days I wonder if it will ever end. The only thing these days have in common is that the thought of self harm is never far from my mind.
So how have I gotten this far? The only thing I can put it down to is sheer grit. I’ve been at the bottom and kept digging. I don’t want to be there. I’ve seen what a parent who is in and out of hospitals can do to a child. It doesn’t mean that I’m better. It just means that I’ve learnt to manage it better.
I take things a day at a time. It’s the only way that I don’t become overwhelmed. It’s the only way that I have gotten to where I am today. It’s all I can do to make sure that I stay harm free well into the future.
musings of the misguided is the ranting and general bullshit ramblings of a mum to a toddler. What makes it so special? I have a mental illness thrown in just to shake things up a bit. I have a 3yo who loves me to death (aka drives me up the wall) and a partner who thinks he knows it all but lets me wear the pants because they fit better 
. I write about everything from mental health awareness to smelly boys. Life is rarely sunshine and lollipops around here so join me as I have fun taking the piss and refining my expertise in sarcasm.
(if you have sent me/offered to do a guest post and I haven’t got back to you, please email me at mb2kelley at gmail dotcom cause I seem to have let my email get out of hand and have no hope finding it. xx )
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{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }
I hear you. Just when you think the bastard is behind you, it bites you. You can never be complacent with mental illness. It is a hard-arsed bastard.
The thing is even when I think I have my shit together, the rug is pulled out from under me.
There is no rest. Vigilance.
I love your sheer grit and taking one day at a time.
Power to you.xx
Sheer grit, taking things one day at a time, and a cocktail of awesome medication is the village that keeps me operational. Thanks for your post. x
Having a kid when you suffer a mental illness is hard, I know. For me, I just want to keep it together for my kid’s sake but sometimes holding all the crazy in can make is fester and get worse. On the other hand, having a kid makes me want to be better (when in the past I haven’t allowed myself even that luxury). Having my son makes me fight another day and then another and another.
It is just over three years since I was last admitted to a mental health facility, but like you, the fight goes on. That’s what it is all about really. Managing a never ending battle.
I hope the light at the end of the tunnel comes for you soon.
Managing it better can be good, because you keep the day to day life of those you love going, while buying yourself time to work through your own stuff.
May the light become closer and envelope you.
I love living in the light and it’s amazing to me how strong the desire to avoid being back in the dark is now I know the way out. xx
At least you recognise it, at least you’re self-aware. Far better than being in denial and having a poor innocent child suffer. For that alone, I think it sounds like you’re doing a pretty good job x
One day at a time is the only way. Sometimes even one breath at a time. You are awesome and amazing. Keep digging.
*sigh*
I cried as I read this. I think it was because I could relate so much. When my son was killed in 2003 it was literally an hour at a time let alone a day at a time. Now I am living with three autistic boys and the ghosts of the people I have buried haunting me. I am trying to make a difference for families touched by the death of a child and autism. I think I am doing that but days like today, let’s just say I understand the whole day at a time thing and regressing back. I think you are an inspiration and I wanted to than you ( as tears role down my face) for your words. They inspired me and warmed me to know I am not the only one trying to do it a day at a time. Thankyou for being so open and lifting the veil on mental illness and depression. Thankyou for your grit and your strength. It’s nearly midnight. You made it. Another day. You made it. We made it. Much love. Mum Talks Autism.