Bipolar: The Road To Motherhood Less Traveled.

PART ONE


I always knew what kind of mother I wanted to be but I never thought too much about the kind of mother I didn’t want to be until it was too late and I was becoming her.

I knew I wanted to be the kind of mother to my child that my mother was to me, I thought that I had the potential but maybe I was wrong. I think there were too many things wrong with me that were not wrong with my mother…or if they were wrong, she hid it a whole lot better than I could ever hope to.
Being a mother, being bi-polar and suffering from depression are not things that work well together. They do not make it easy to provide a harmonious environment in which to live and prosper. There was nothing in life I wanted more than having a child of my own. Although I have taken care of children in some capacity, I knew of and had seen the horror stories of parenthood and childhood gone wrong…I was still naïve enough to believe that once I had my daughter, my life would be all sweetness and sunshine. I mean, I knew it would be hard, life is hard, but I thought I would have it under control.

There are so many things that can go wrong in a persons life, things that change you and change the course you planned to take to end up in the place you wanted to be. I believe that this is what happened to me, this is what started me on that downward spiral into a dark hole so deep I thought I would never get out.

I’m not going to lead you down the staircase to my personal black hole. I’m in therapy because I took that trip once and I don’t think either one of us would survive it. I’m not looking for sympathy. I don’t want people sitting around thinking “oh that poor girl!”. This is about understanding. Me understanding myself and you understanding me and everyone like me. Maybe you’re like me. Like the me that denied my pain and misery for years. Like the me that let everyone believe that I was this strong, independent, single mother who had her shit together. Like the me that slowly and painfully broke into a million little pieces before realizing that I needed help…serious help. I hope you’re not like that “me”, but if you are it’s ok. I worked through it with help and you can too.

To Be Continued...