WELCOME TO WHERE MY MIND AND WRITTEN WORDS COLLIDE. JOIN ME AS I EXPRESS MY THOUGHTS ON WELLNESS, SOCIAL ISSUES AND MORE. AT TIMES, I AM VERY RAW AS A WRITER WHICH MAY BE DIFFICULT FOR SOME TO DIGEST SO PLEASE BE MINDFUL.
Laqwanda roberts-buckley mental health advocate
This was the deal I made with myself. By doing so, I felt I avoided exposing her to dark reality that haunts me at times. I did not want her to carry the burden of wondering if Mommy was “okay”. I wanted her to be a typical teenager and not a child feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. I’ve always taken “precautions” to hide this from her. For instance, on days that we had major activities scheduled, I would lay in the bed to rest up. Working from home on these days helps tremendously as I don’t have multiple things competing for my physical energy. When we are in the car and I feel like crying, I turn up the music and try joking around with her.
Her smile makes my heart smile. Yet, I still find myself rushing to a secluded place to release my tears in isolation. I could tell you of countless instances that I’ve modified things simply because I physically I was unable to move. I despise every heart wrenching moment that I had to say that Mommy is too “tired”. I can always feel her disappointment. We always reschedule for another day. However, the fact that THAT day did not happen shatters me every once in a while. Nevertheless, the worst of all is every single time I have to take her home.
Yes……..I have to take her home. My daughter has resided with her Dad since she was 4 years old. After my first hospitalization, it was in her best interest to stay with him. I had become entirely to unstable and needed to focus on my recovery. Her Dad made it possible for me to do that while he took on the responsibility of raising her full-time alone.
Over the years, he has been instrumental in ensuring that she hasn’t missed a beat in life and fully integrating me into her life. In spite of all of this, my mind still tells me “You are picking her up, because you got sick.” The funny thing it’s true. There is so much she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know that I was hospitalized last year. She doesn’t know that as she tried to call me for 5 days, I was on a psych unit.
When I heard her say “Mommy, I didn’t know you were depressed”, I paused but only for a moment. I had to make a decision about how much she could handle so I answered her. “Remember, Mommy manages Bipolar Disorder. I get depressed some times. That is why I have posters with words on the walls, meditate, and take medicine. Mommy needs support sometimes.” With the innocence of a child, she looks at me and says, “Okay. I guessed that was why you had all the stuff on the wall.” Then just like that the conversation was over.
She continued to prepare for the first day of school. I stepped into my room and took a deep breath. I don’t know if she will ever have to see the things that I go through with my condition. One thing, I know for sure is that my daughter sees me as a mother who is actively present in her life. I also have to realize that this disease may impact the things I am able to do at times but it will NEVER have to ability to define who I am as a mother. So yes baby girl, Mommy gets depressed sometimes, but my love for you will always feel my spirit with joy.