Me, Me, Me

The last 18 months or so have been ridiculously turbulent. Both girls have had multiple out of home placements and the situation has been beyond stressful on many levels. So for my husband and I to stand here with our relationship in tact, it is a miracle. Raising our daughters has isolated us from our families and friends. I am especially sensitive to the feelings of isolation which lead me to struggles with depression. I often teeter on the edge of a deep depression that I am thankful I have not actually fallen off that edge. I have always had anxiety but as I struggle with the depression, the anxiety seems to worsen.

I know that the isolation that I am experiencing is mostly my own doing. I know that I have hidden myself in the protection of my room and I don't let anyone know how much I am actually struggling. I don't let anyone know the tears that I shed or the pain in my heart or how much this last two years has sucked and none of it is ok with my. That I hate my daughter not living me with me even though I know she needs to be where she is. That it rips me apart to know how sick she really is and that I can't fix it. Because I am her mom and that is my job to fix.

I hate knowing that part of this whole depression and anxiety thing, I have absolutely no control over. People can tell me a hundred million times that if I just change my attitude it will be better and no matter how much I try, I feel as though this is out of my control.

I need reassurance and support but I honestly feel if I were to ask for either, I would look like a drama queen and I don't want to be seen as someone that needs to have my ego stroked. I feel responsible for my daughter's current issues even though I have absolutely nothing to do with that. I feel as though I suck at friendship, family relationships, jobs, everything that I should be good at, I feel as though I have disappointed and destroyed them all.

I also know that none of this is reality. This is what is spiraling in my head while I struggle with depression and anxiety. These are the feelings and the thoughts that have taken root in my head from the extreme stress I have had over the last two years.

I want a hug, I want a friend, I want someone to come help me but I want to show the world that I am strong so no one offers a hug or help because they don't know. I am afraid to let them know I need them. Parenting RAD for eight years has taken its toll on me and I can be prickly but I don't want to be...I want to be the carefree, quick to laugh, friendly, kind, compassionate me that I used to be. But I am not there right now.

I am in therapy and this is not a cry for help. I am not going to hurt myself and I don't feel that I need to be hospitalized. I just felt that I needed to go public with this because it is not something to be ashamed of. I am not the only one with similar struggles and I won't take on the stigma of mental illness. I am an active participant in my own emotional wellness. I love my children and I willing care for them and parent them, I would never in a million years, change that! EVER....

If I can teach anyone anything, it is.....when someone is going through something really crappy and they say they are fine....they aren't...they may not want to tell you the bloody details but they would love a hug or a note in the mail....sometimes they aren't strong enough to ask for help but they still need it. I know we all have junk in our lives but this world is a better place when we take care of each other.

Queen mommy

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