Why do you blog?

Mental illness changed my life and the way I look at suffering. It turned me into my absolute worst self, someone I detested. More than that, it was the journey that led me towards that depression.

For years, I struggled, fought, cried, and crawled to make sure my family had a secure future. I stopped caring about my appearance, I stopped caring about our apartment, and I stopped caring about going out. I became more secluded over the years until I had completely locked myself away from everyone. The only thing that kept me going was my kids.

When I started having memory problems during the pandemic, I finally reached out to a therapist for the first time. I told him everything I could think of from the get-go. All I wanted was to get better. Every appointment was over the phone. I would set anywhere from 10-15 alarms, and I would still forget about every appointment.

My therapist told me that if I missed another one, he would cancel our sessions. I begged him to call me instead. I explained how difficult it had been to remember much of anything.  He told me, “If you can’t remember, we’ll give the time to someone who cares enough to remember.”

When he finally let me go, it felt as if I would never get better. It became harder to even hold on. The image of my kids wondering why their Mom didn’t love them enough to stay popped into my head. So I kept trying.

One day, I sat down and tried to sort it all out. Why am I this way? When was the last time I was happy? How much of this is from abuse, neglect, or being overworked?

The words started spitting from me, writing out every event happy or sad. Little by little, I began remembering strength I once had and what had covered it up.

I came to realize how horrible the support networks for mental illness are. Not to mention how impatient everyone was for my recovery. As if coming back from anything so horrible could happen in mear days. Or weeks. Or even years.

I’m still trying, even now. Recovery is day by day. Little by little. But I can feel it happening, and I can see it in the eyes of my children.