Genetics suck & Meds Aren't Magic

I'm not sure I even have the energy at this point to write much about today, but I'll try.

I'll start by saying that I have been medicated for a about 5 years now, my son has been medicated for about a month. He did not understand until about a week ago that the medicine was from the doctor. For some reason he thought it was just stuff I picked up from the store and was making him take, so he wasn't taking them consistently. This last week though he's been better with taking them and they have made a difference. All that to say that even on medicine, we still have bad days. We still have to work hard and fight for ourselves. The meds help, but they're not a magical potion.

This morning my older son had a therapy appointment. He, of course, tells his therapist things that he doesn't tell me. She ends up calling me because he admitted to self harming. Long story short, keep sharp things away from him and watch him like a hawk when he's in a mood. He was not happy about her calling me.

After this conversation, I took my hubby to work and went to get groceries. I hadn't noticed my son's self harm attempt because he's been wearing long sleeves and also it's not very noticeable. But this all sunk in and weighed heavily on me. 

My mom was my main mental health advocate. She battled it, some of her siblings, her mom, and others in the family; darn those genetics!

So while shopping, I'm choking back tears every other isle with a heavy longing to talk to my mama; to share with her what was going on, because she would understand.

When I picked my son up he was fuming. He didn't say anything to me, he walked past me and to the car. 

When we got home I had my younger son go to his room so I could talk with MJ. I was just trying to see about his self harm and what was going on.

If you've battled depression or had manic episodes (what I used to call my 'crazisodes') you know that when in this state you don't care about anything. Nothing said makes any bit of difference. At this point I didn't realize the state he was in... Yet.

Once I said we needed to work on his school work he lost his mind! He slammed his fists on the table and screamed and stormed off. I told him he needed to come back because he had chosen not to do his work so we needed to tackle it before he got zeros for them. He didn't care.

Yes, I could have let him cool off, but I hadn't had a chance to clear his room of anything he could use to harm himself and, with the way he was, I knew that's what he would do if he went to his room. I was also hoping that I would be able to distract him from his anger by helping him with his work and trying to bring him into focus.

However, that didn't happen. We were back in the kitchen and he screamed at me and swatted his arm, it was a reaction (I'm working on it). And he kind of jerked towards me like he wanted to fight. I stepped toward him and told him that wasn't a good idea. He starts screaming for me to get out of his way and was trying to push me out of the way. Instead of getting angry, for once, I was able to see my broken and hurting child. A child that I understood, that I was like at that age, and I wrapped him in a bear hug.

He fought to get away for quite a while, but this mama bear was not letting go of her cub. We ended up on the floor, I wrapped my legs around his waist and had my arms tight around his chest. And we sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, both of us crying.

My younger son came out, and he starts bawling and I asked him why he was crying and he said I was choking his brother. From his angle it looked like I was, so I moved my arm down a little to show him that I wasn't. He calmed down and asked what I was doing and I told him I was keeping his brother from hurting himself. He went back to his room to play and I focused back on the child in my arms.

When you're in this manic state, no one can say anything to penetrate that wall. But I sure tried. I told him how much I loved him. That God healed my womb to be able to bring him into this world, and that God has great things in store for his life.

I told him that I understood how he was feeling and and that I refuse to allow him to go through this alone. That I would never give up on him and I would always fight for him. Then I just prayed out loud for him and thanking God for all the amazing things about him.

He was still pulling away from my grasp, but had calmed down enough for me to let him up. He was still not through his episode, but we were on the downward side if it.

We sat together with his school work. Maybe 10-20 minutes later he was through his mental thicket and started crying all over again and telling be how sorry he was. 

Once you're through the episode you tend to feel horrible for the things you've done or said. And often feel guilty because you can't control yourself. I hugged him again and told him I understood (at least I think that's what I said). And that I know how frustrating and hard it is.

To say it's been an emotional day is very much an understatement. My dad called me on his way home from church and I told him about it and of course cried all over again. And he ended our phone call by praying for my son, me, and our family. 

Depression SUCKS! It's not a made up thing. It is real, it is debilitating, and I refuse to pretend that it's not happening!! This is real life people. This is what WE go through. 

You don't have to understand it to have compassion for those going through it.

If you need help, please get help. This is no way to live.

If you don't need help, be there help for someone else, or at least have a willing heart if God sends someone your way.

YOU ARE WORTH FIGHTING FOR!

Vlog: https://youtu.be/3dy9m0-xnb4

Disclaimer: This was before taking to my dad and before I fully decompressed and reflected on the events.