When I was pregnant, I was looking forward to having my son eagerly. I was excited to be the mum of a bouncing baby boy and I didn’t think anything could spoil that.
Now, here I am, a single stay-at-home mum for nearing 5 years now and I hate it. I love my son like nothing else, but I despise being a stay-at-home mum. It’s draining and, honestly, pretty boring most days. Added onto that, he has special needs and is very likely on the autism spectrum, which we’re getting him therapy and seeking a diagnosis for. He’s a challenge to say the least and his challenges are the more subtle ones, the ones you wouldn’t immediately pick as being autistic. He’s had speech therapy for almost a year now and OT for almost 6 months and my whole life revolves around him. Some days, I feel like I should just change my name to Mum.
Added even more onto all of that is the fact that I was diagnosed with a personality disorder last October. So, not only do I have to juggle my son’s difficulties and get him as much help as I can, I need to find the time somewhere to get help for myself. For the majority of this year, I didn’t find that time at all. I was busy shuttling my son off to daycare and therapy and getting housework and shopping done, where was the time for me? I started to sacrifice my sleep at night and got even less done throughout each day.
I was losing a battle I’d been fighting all my life.
In July, I went into crisis. I had a sudden hit of every negative emotion you could possibly imagine, but dialed way up. I called a friend of mine and he knew that, if I was calling him and barely able to speak without crying, he needed to get to me. His partner was, at the time, heavily pregnant and about to give birth any day, but he still came to see me. He, of course made sure it was okay with her and, since she is a close friend of mine too, she knew I wouldn’t be calling unless I absolutely needed him. If it wasn’t for him, I have no idea if I would even be alive right now or not.
Anyway, he came over and we called up my local hospital, trying to get in contact with anyone regarding mental health, but to no avail. We called a few times with the same result until I finally gave up on that. Instead, we spent a few hours playing tennis on my Nintendo Switch and he went home. His partner gave birth the following morning to a beautiful little girl who I absolutely adore.
I ended up calling for about 2 hours straight until someone finally answered the call. Thankfully, I was assessed a few days later and I was in a sub-acute facility about a week after that. I was there for a month and my son was at his dad’s house. I have to give his dad so much credit here because he didn’t even hesitate when I told him where I was going and how long I’d be there, he just said he’d work it out in terms of our son’s care. He and his wife took such good care of him and he is so lucky to have them in his life!
Fast forward to last Monday and I was finally discharged. I made 2 friends there who I still keep in contact with and I actually met up with one of them today. When I was going to leave, they were literally hanging off me because they didn’t want me to go and that’s probably the longest, most love-filled goodbye I’ve ever made.
I came home and it felt like everything had been moved, but nothing had. It was like I had been standing still in time, but everyone else had sped ahead of me whilst still looking exactly the same. It’s a weird feeling to come out of a place like that where you have 24/7 support and then going home where you have next to none. It’s hard to find that sense of normalcy again. I feel like I’m a more rested and capable woman and mother even though I had to get to my lowest to get here.
I can’t say that I won’t ever get to that point again because I’m sure that I probably will, but the difference is that I know who I can turn to and I have a better grip on tools that can help me cope and get back to being my best.
Posted by noxx, 17th September 2018