When I talk about mental health, I often try and talk in broad terms, but of course with mental health that is impossible, like many other diseases, it depends on the person.
My down periods are never like my friend’s C, just like our anxiety is completely different, we react differently to different medication and to talking therapy.
So when I write I am writing about my personal experience, because its like no one elses. One of the things I find difficult is raising my son, especially now he is getting older. He wants to do more things and experience more things. As a mother I want to do this for him, my mental health disagrees with this.
I often find that my mental health is at odds with each other. By going manic, I could pop to a large city, wonder round, chat to people, have a great time, meanwhile my anxiety is like nop not doing that, by mania wins.
Some days my depression will be so bad I don’t want to get out of bed, my OCD will be doing backflips going but you need to get this done, then my anxiety will pop up and make my OCD bit worse, meanwhile my depression part of the brain will be sitting there telling me there is no point.
It is often a constant and exhausting battle. When my son was younger, we could do things at my speed, I could spend weekends building forts, playing hide and seek, or just lounging on the sofa.
That is starting to become more problamatic. My maternal instinct is to give my son everything he needs, so this could include play dates with friends, parties, discos, where as my mental health instinct is to stay away as much as possible and hide under the duvet.
I am finding, particularly with this week, I am pushing myself harder and harder and it is taking me longer and longer to recover.
Saturday, was the toy shop day, I didn’t move out the house for the rest of the weekend.
Monday was swimming lessons, that was hell, I refused to move out the house till Thursday.
Tonight (Friday) is my son’s disco, and it was packed, I am sitting here trying to control my breathing, while praying I don’t throw up, my chest is so tight and I think my heart is about to come out of my chest.
It is unusual that is has all happened at once. But I am finding that the more I push myself out of my comfort zone the harder it is to do things that I use to be able to do, such as go to the shops.
However, I would do anything for that little boy, he is my life and what keeps me going on a daily basis, he annoys the crap out of me somedays, but he has given me some great comedy and he is very loving. He will never have the usual childhood that other children will have, but as long as I can keep doing what I am doing, then it will be worth it