thus far, all of my posts have been backwards looking, rather than in the moment. I am not even sure if I will publish this post, as it is in the moment, and for obvious reasons that feels perilously close. It is somehow much easier, although not easy, to write about what has passed. So an experiment.
Jumping to the here and now, our lives have been mercifully much less dramatic in the last year. By other people’s standards possibly not, but by our standards, most definitely. I guess it’s all relative and it depends on what your tolerance levels are. In terms of homelife, mine have increased exponentially since I entered this kind of quagmire of chaos and heartache. I have learnt to expect very little – as expecting anything else invariably leads to bitter disappointment. A good day is a quiet day without incident. Conversely, my tolerance levels for anything outside of homelife, and in particular at work have decreased probably by the same amount.
You don’t see the things that other people see as problems in the same way at all. That’s not to say that I think this is a competition in who has had the most awful experience – more that I think you take on a completely different sense of perspective. Your issues are no more or less real to you than mine are to me – they are just different.
Over the years I have become an expert in absenting myself from certain conversations – I am so disconnected from them that I feel unable to participate. This has almost always been in settings with parents of children the same age as AJ – often his peers from either nursery, Primary or Secondary Schools, way back to bumps and babes, baby massage, rugby and hockey. It’s the kind of stuff that marks the passage of time – exam results being a key one. I literally cannot and could not sit and listen to the endless raking over why somebody’s child was robbed because they got 3 A* and one A, which had blotted their straight run. I know that it is grossly lacking in generosity, smacks of jealousy and is generally a response that I feel ashamed of, but it is like listening to nails clawing their way down a blackboard. And so I absented myself from as many of these discussions as was humanly possible – better for me – and better for them, I thought. At least then it avoids the awkward moment when all eyes eventually rest on me – and the pause that fills the room – are they going to ask me about him? Or not? Or the sympathetic head on one side – you ok hun? I can’t even.
Even as I write this I can see how utterly contrary I could be, and can be – ask me – don’t ask me. Whatever you decide will probably not land well. So you make your world small and incredibly insular- and take away everyone’s discomfort including your own by going to ground.
The culmination of this was a reunion of Primary School mums on the eve of GCSE results. Now – showing my true colours here – I object to being involved with anything that defines me in that way ( I can’t think how objectionable I must sound!) but seriously? It was a proper are you f****g kidding me moment. Instead, I sat at home nursing a bottle of Sauvignon and a family sized packet of Revels ( I like the element of danger and surprise. It’s about the maximum level of danger and surprise I am able to willingly expose myself to). Anyway, you do eventually stop being asked to things, and frankly, I don’t blame them.
What I am trying to do is to be truthful about some of the less noble and more unattractive characteristics you can develop as a mother with a mentally ill child. At times, contrary, prone to paranoia, jealousy, self-pity, and a wild lack of generosity. All a bit ugly, albeit understandable. Perhaps recognising it is helpful – in understanding why it might be that you lose some people along the way and/ or some start to give you a wide berth. And that might all be perfectly ok.
You might have noticed that I have wandered way off topic. Avoidance. Having lulled myself into a false sense of security over the last 12 months, it has come crashing back down again. I feel like an idiot. My sister has a rule when we are out driving that you are categorically not allowed to comment on the traffic until you are home and at the very least turned off the ignition. She will literally hold her hand over your mouth if you try. I feel that I have tempted fate by daring to think we are out of the woods.
It feels like a much darker place when you have allowed yourself the respite of turning your face to the sun. My heart hurts for little M – who we can no longer hide anything from. He is too knowing. I think children who have seen a lot of trauma in their few years are too knowing, and it is one of the tragedies of our story. He ran to our neighbour, the mother of his best friend, and told her, in the only way he was able – about his brothers “poorly head”. He has been so withdrawn that it would snap your heart in two.
The Middle One has done what the Middle One does – to try and protect us all in the ways that he is able – and my heart aches for him too. At the very time in his life when he should be without a care he has taken it upon himself to be so completely and utterly responsible for us all. It is not his job and yet we cannot stop him, it is the role he has chosen for himself. He has assumed the role of peace-maker and care-giver, as I did in my family when growing up.
So you see I actually can’t bring myself to tell you what just happened, in the moment. It’s as if I am screaming but my sister has clamped her hand over my mouth. But you can read between the lines.
As I write this I feel immeasurably sad, the weight of my sadness is huge. You see it’s not one childhood lost, which would be bad enough. It’s three. And it happened on my neglectful watch.
Not neglectful Lisa, let down by a broken system. Also not alone in how you have needed to protect your self and your family because believe me you are a good parent , I know because I have met the bad ones. Xx
Thankyou Sara. The system is certainly broken, and in need of fixing. It’s trying to get those holding the power to see.
You have done amazing things for and with your boys and nowhere does the word neglectful fall into the mix. However, is a hard thing to relinquish the burden of blame and the feeling of guilt. As for the pushy parent/exam results thing I praised the achievements of my daughter by reminding everyone she was artistic rather than academic. That said, she spent her 2 GCSE years in her bedroom, the safest place during my husband’s time of profound mental instability, but that wasn’t something I could share with the world at the time. How she achieved what she did I shall never know. Take care lovely girl xx
Thankyou Sue I shall. What an amazing thing you did for your daughter, holding her tight through all of that. Much love x
Ah just when we think life is peachy it kicks us in the teeth… It is how we deal with the bruises that defines us. You my beautiful friend your boys are dealing with it the only way you know how… And that is the best way, this situation came with no instructions!!
When it’s going well we soul search for where else it can go wrong, be kind to you and allow the sun to shine on your face all of your faces you are all fucking amazing and as I often say when people ask me how I am ‘still walking and talking’ is my response and sometimes that is enough… Much love as always x
And the same to you Caroline. Ups and downs eh, and there’s an understatement!
What do I know ? Nothing…… but I do know that you should not use the word neglectful.
Who knows why things are thrown at us, I don’t but I do know about detaching from others and the hand over the mouth. I shove mine over peoples quite often.
Lynn xx
That brought a smile to my face Lynn, thankyou!!
I see no neglect…
Just honesty, integrity and a huge amount of love….
Your boys know they are loved… yes life will shape them but your love is unconditional….
So breathe my dear friend and be gentle with yourself so you can continue to be all that you are…
Wise words again Cass. Thankyou
You aren’t alone, during my 15 year struggle with my middle child, which doesn’t ever go away but changes, I moved away from the area I lived, broke contact with anyone connected, however remotely with us, developed so many triggers it’s actually safer to just stay at home, and don’t visit my mother because it means going back to the area. I’m a completely different person now, fearful and and filled with self doubt and a sense of having failed as a mother, daughter, wife, friend. Like you, I do look on enviously, was 20 years of domestic violence not enough or was that my fault too, did I cause the unravelling of a teenager by not leaving quickly enough. It never ends Lisa but what choice do we have to carry on, in our own way, one step at a time. I like Instagram but I do find the portrayal of perfect lives so very wearing because I know it simply isn’t true, your honesty has been a breath of fresh air, giving the rest of us permission to be honest too.
I think it’s best to try and show the shadow side too, Carol, if its possible. You did what you thought was right at the time, and you did your best, and that’s what counts. The self doubt won’t ever leave but you’ve also got to take the good days when they come. Take care x
Love you
You too Rach x
Lisa, you are not neglectful!
This is not your fault, it is something that is out of our control. We are not equipped, it’s not in the manual ( not that there is one!) But when we look for that help, we are let down by having to jump through hoops, hoops with fire and jagged edges – impossible!
When you look at Southern Hemisphere children’s and adolescents mental health care, especially in Australia and NZ they get it right so easily. The whole system needs to be broken down and started again, without all the bureaucracy.
I have been exactly the same with my daughters contemporaries parents, I just turned them off. I haven’t in the past 5 years had a call or anything off them, they do not understand as their world is perfect ( According to them) am I jealous- yes. But I cannot change – you cannot change what has happened. You can write, educate others on this, as their world may need your guidance or just to know they are not alone, swimming with lead boots on.
Sending a huge hug and admiration for all you do for your boys – stay strong. X
You too Chrissie. I think it’s a head and heart thing. My head knows its not my fault but occasionally, especially when things are exceptionally hard, the heart and soul searching starts all over again. I look forward to the day when I can look back at all this like a wise old sage….it’s not happening any time soon!
Dear Lisa, I wish I had a magic wand to help you, or at least something to say which would make you feel better, Right now I have neither. Just a knot in my stomach as I read through the agony in your words. All I know in this moment is that the things you have struggled with on your journey have all prepared you to light the way for those who are also struggling, By opening your wounds, you offer strength to others. Go softly.
Thankyou, that’s incredibly kind. It’s a comfort to think that in writing this, it might help others know there are many of us walking this path. Lx
You are a beautiful and courageous soul. Thank you for sharing your journey here.
Sending good thoughts and energy to you and your family.
Thankyou Kris, that’s really kind.
Just keep going. Be kind to yourself none of us could handle this any better then you all are. Please don’t punish yourself with blame. X
I shall keep going, and thankyou.
After helping out with a local volunteer group this year the clearest thing to me is how little gets done by councils and agencies, how much gets signposted and how alarmingly often that is to voluntary groups. We have an expectation that professionals will be able to help and mostly it seems they are arse covering and passing on responsibility. Funding is part of the issue but also seemingly a compassion bypass. Your posts highlight fundamental points; you never know what is going on in another family’s life and we all need to be prepared to help each other as a keystone to our existence. We are part of an ecology that has succeeded through cooperation and communication – competition has become too dominant and blame…. Don’t get me started! I was a teacher in my working life, and a mother so I know something of that. Look after yourself Lisa. X
Thankyou Barbara. Oh how that phrase resonates – compassion bypass. So accurate. Although I was talking recently to someone who started working in CAMHS around six months ago, and it sounds like hell. The most impossible case loads and I guess what do you do? I guess you have to adopt a coping strategy otherwise you’d burn out quickly. That’s why there are very few people I’ve met who I think genuinely didn’t care – it’s the decision makers higher up that don’t seem to be able to turn sympathy and rhetoric into action. So frustrating.
I quite agree, decision making that is concerned with numbers and percentages. Coping in that system a warm caring person must have to develop such a carapace
For whatever just happened I send you love and wish you peace.
Acknowledge the sadness and let it float off, hold onto the things you know to be good and never judge yourself as neglectful.
Yet again, I feel you speaking my own thoughts. Sending so much love. Being a good mother does not mean you can pre-empt and prevent every problem, having hope for the future is not a crime for the universe to punish. All the thoughts you consider mean and petty are absolutely totally human; anyone who’s walked a similar path will have experienced them. I’m so sorry. x
Thankyou Nadia, those are wise words and much appreciated.
Heavens, this resonated. The drawing away and guilt – that I cannot bear to hear how “the peers” have got great results, driving lessons etc. (I’m pleased for them of course but….) it’s like a scream that doesn’t come out! I’m pleased for their successes but our success is a day without angst. Thank you for such heartfelt frankness. Sending you much love Xxxx
Very gratefully received, thankyou. Hard to acknowledge what might be considered to be ugly emotions – but true nonetheless! Take care x
Your watch has been far from neglectful…don’t ever think that. The authorities are the neglectful ones in all this. I know exactly where you’re coming from…my son is now 22 and all his old school friends are off at uni or in good jobs, have cars, some have a child of their own yet my poor boy is stuck in his dark room never having managed college or had a job. I bloody hate it when I see an old school friends mum and they ask the inevitable question…what is M up to these days? I want to poke them in the eye as they rattle off what their child is doing. Yes I’m very jealous I guess, I had huge aspirations for my son, he’s extremely intelligent and when he was small I never in a million years invisaged this to be our lives. I do and I don’t begrudge them of their joy at having a child with a masters degree and a fabulous job…don’t I sound perfectly horrible when I say that…I rarely admit to feeling that way but I know you understand where I’m coming from!!
I also get the other siblings part. My daughter (M’s younger sister by 18 months) has suffered greatly and she herself has crippling anxiety that I’m sure, in part, is due to what she’s seen and heard over the years. I feel incredibly guilty…for both of them. Could I of done more? Could I of tried harder? Am I a good enough mum? I’m on anti depressants and my mental health is shot to pieces too…what a mess we are 😞
I understand entirely, and I agree – yes, we might be a mess – but perhaps a beautiful one at that – with all the flaws and imperfections that come from the trials of what life throws at us. Perhaps better rounded, wiser and with more ability to accept small things as being very precious indeed – so I guess we are a product of the road we have travelled. I’m not saying that I wouldn’t have had it any other way – just that I probably do have an acceptance now of what is. Take care x
Thank you for putting into words what so many of us must feel. Hiding away just to block out those things you increasingly find that you have no time for. Or the creeping insensitivity of those you can no longer tolerate. As life crushes you to the point of oblivion. In my 20’s I was ready to take on the world. By my 50’s the world had eaten me up and spat me out. And you sit back and you watch and observe and you are wiser and quieter and calmer. But battered, bruised and shell shocked. Please don’t feel guilty about your boys. They are all on a journey. It’s not the one you planned for them but it is theirs to shape into a better future. And they will have wisdom beyond their years to cope with what life throws at them. X
Well I do hope so! You have to hope that something good comes from all of this. We might be battered and bruised but I do like to think we might be the wiser for it. I’d readily settle for quiet and calm most days. Thankyou for taking the time to comment, I do appreciate it.
As I sit and read your brave words I just want to reach out and give you a big hug. Please be gentle with yourself Lisa. Xxx
Thankyou Mandy, and I’ll try.
I don’t see neglect reading between the lines…However as a parent I would feel it too…it’s our job isn’t it? To feel every bloody emotion going…there’s no manual is there? There’s lot of “how to be a fu**ing good parent and I would do it this way!” Books! And give them all a medal!!! But we just muddle through 90% of the time…and Revels?? I haven’t had those for years…one for the Tesco shopping list!
I think it really is our job Jason – all the feels as they say! Got those Revels yet? They are most excellent entertainment on a dark evening!
I don’t feel as though I have the right words but I read every blog post and I wonder if/hope that this is cathartic for you. With every post I like to think that I can sense a little weight lifting from your shoulders. I hope some of these awful feelings of shame and inadequacy are dissipating a little. You are amazing.
Also love Revels but always feel a bit disappointed in the fake minstrels.
Hi Nicki – it is cathartic and painful in equal measure but now I’ve started I don’t seem to be able to stop! I do feel better for it though, even on the off days. Thankyou x
Dear Lisa
I don’t have any words, I wish I could wrap my arms round you and give you the biggest cuddle.
But please know you haven’t failed anyone, the system has failed you. Your love for and devotion to your children shines through in every word you write.
Love
Lyn
xxx
Thankyou Lyn, that would be very gratefully received! Much love x
please don’t blame yourself….I’ve been following your blog & now must write. I am about 20 years ahead of you…my 5 children are 40-31…..our entire family has been through your life…there will be positive changes slowly….I promise, feel free to contact me on IG #hollyhudson56
Oh god…I didn’t mean you are a mess…I meant me and my children. Oh I do hope didn’t offend you 😞
Ha! Not at all! I don’t think any of us can truthfully say that we are well put together!
😘😘
I am thankful that you are blogging your journey with mental illness. I have a daughter-in-law that is bi-polar. There are trials, tribulations, and testing with it but there is always love for her. Mental illness is not the fault of the one who has it. It is what it is. I’m glad your your sons mom.
Thankyou for getting in touch, and for your very kind words.