I’ve been away from the from the writing, journaling, blogging yet again. This time it’s because I made the choice this past year to focus on me and fixing me. I’ve finally decided that I can’t do it all myself and be super Mom without checking in with professionals and working through my baggage.
I was officially diagnosed with PTSD. Yes, you can have PTSD from being a medical parent. No, it’s not just for soldiers. I knew for a long time that was what I was suffering from but I thought I could over come it or it would go away in time or if I avoided it long enough I’d come out of it. Even though I *knew* this wasn’t the case and how it worked. I finally decided enough was enough and to face everything head on in January.
I was done feeling perpetual grief, despair, and debilitating pain and sadness around certain memories, smells, and routines. I was tired. I was ready to address it all.
It’s been a long road but I’m getting better. I’m feeling more like the “old me”. But the “old me” is now wiser with a lot more baggage. I’ve grown as a person and evolved but now some of the “old me” is in there and showing herself. I’ve got tools on how to deal with the anxiety and episodes. I’m trying to equip myself with everything I can to be the best me. The best wife. The best Mom I can be. The best woman I can be. Sure, I’m still going to struggle and have my bad days/weeks/maybe even months but acknowledging something wasn’t right has made a world of difference. EMDR has been a total game changer.
I haven’t been truly carefree and happy since March 31, 2012. I have been a ball of nerves, anxiety, grief, anger, despair, exhaustion, and you name it I probably felt it. I just kept pushing that all down. I didn’t have time. Nor the want to address these feelings. Don’t get me wrong, there were many happy times and great times and times when I was truly happy but there was always this dark cloud of shit that I haven’t dealt with lingering. That I couldn’t deal with. It would take my breath away and fill me with tears if I tried to go there. Sometimes it snuck up when I wasn’t looking. But with a supportive therapist and husband, I did go there. And I got through. It might have been messy, but I came out the other side.
It’s the dark side of this “journey” we were sent on. It’s the side you don’t really see on the internet, unless you are in the thick of it and see it with the many other parents on the same path. It’s the side you don’t have time to deal with properly until you can’t deal any more. Until you decide you can’t keep living the way you have been and find the time. That’s one of the hardest parts. My time is gone by the time I wake up each morning. I devote my hours to the kids and getting them to where they need to be and all Noah’s therapies. All this was more important than trying to “fix” me. It wasn’t until I sat down one day and realized I couldn’t keep feeling the way I was feeling and I couldn’t keep avoiding it.
There were a lot of tears. A lot of tough conversations. A lot of admitted truths. A lot of processing. A LOT. I’m still not 100%, and may never be because of the nature of everything I’ve been dealt but I’m gaining tools and the strength to work through it properly.
But I was able to realize how far I’ve come this summer when we were all driving in the van and Oliver said “Mom. You happy now. So happy.” My kids had noticed a difference in me. It made me happy, yet sad at the same time. I felt upset because it was affecting my kids more than I realized. But, that’s the great thing about kids. They loved me any way. They didn’t hold this against me. This was just a different path I had to take to get where I want to go.
So there you have it folks, my truth.