He lays there sleeping. I am too scared to wake him up. It’s after lunch and I know I should get him up. But he is safe now, peaceful and dreaming. He tried to take his life again yesterday and another piece of my heart broke.

I brought his meds to his bed a 6 am and he had them without even opening his eyes. He quickly resumed sleeping again.

Bipolar, it feels like this word, this diagnosis, this mental illness cliche has come in and consumed our world. Mental health does not only affect the patient but all those who love, and support them.

It’s heavy, exhausting and consuming and in the blink of an eye, a second of losing grip, my baby, that smart, kind, a beautifully handsome young man decides he cannot do it anymore. He thinks it's all too hard and easier to leave everything all behind. He cannot imagine existing if life was to feel like this forever.

He holds the knife to his skin, he slices his arms. For a moment he feels a short sense of relief. He holds it to his stomach. He is ready to do anything to take this feeling of hurt and misery away. He inhales deeply and is almost ready. I enter the room just in time.

This is how I found him. That young man I have spent watching the last 15 years grow. I have held him in times of crisis, dried his tears and fixed his boo-boos. I have been his biggest fan and cheerleader in his successes. And now a stand before him at his feelings of lowest of lows. I don’t understand how we got here again. I want to break down but I need to keep my shit together, I need to be “mum”.

Maybe he wouldn’t have been successful even if I hadn’t walked in when I did. But that is not the issue. It's not how he tried to take his life but the fact that my son harmed himself with the intent to take his own life is.

For one moment he believed the world would be far brighter without him in it. In one moment he could have stripped me of my soul forever. I couldn’t imagine my world without him in it!

I'm overcome with pangs of guilt, misunderstanding, and confusion. I wish I could take away all his pain and hurt he feels. I would carry it for him and wear the whole armor of darkness and weight for him if just for one moment it meant he didn’t have to. He doesn’t deserve this, this isn’t how I envisioned his future when I cradled him in my arms all those years ago.

I remember being a teenager. It was hard. I was popular and very social. I made any club tryouts I dreamed of. I was very good at sport and captain of many teams. I had so many friends from so many different circles of people. Yet still, that feeling of being inadequate or not cool enough for my peers still loomed. I cared about what other people thought about me. At times, those thoughts impacting decisions I make in the name to” fit in” and be like the everyone else. My teens, I “had it all” but was still left with feelings of doubt. I couldn’t imagine waking up with so much self-hate and then having to go and face that world all over again. This is what my son bravely faces every single day. Trying to mask what he is really feeling on the inside. Trying to look like and act like he is ok. Trying to be “normal”.

It holds him back from trying out for that soccer team. Or being confident enough to put himself out there to meet new circles of people. Since his diagnosis, he hates feeling like he is being “treated like a baby” but understands his illness changes his perceptions of things around him. It clouds his judgment and understanding of facts. He hates that he feels like he cannot trust the one thing people assume is so easy, “use your brain”.

I naively thought we were the exception. I hated the idea of medications and looked at som many alternatives. I never once thought I would be googling the effects of marijuana on bipolar to see if there was a more natural alternative. Nor did I ever think I would ever consider looking at electrotherapy. But here I was playing google doctor waiting for our next appointment to his psychiatrist, desperate to find something to “cure” my child. Desperate to lighten his load.

I never thought I would feed my child poisonous, toxic medication daily, (that so far have offered nothing but horrible side effects). But here I am. Desperate for just a window of light for my little man so he can just have one great day.

My heart aches, it has consumed me. Why can’t I “fix this”?

Guilt. Every parent feels it. I am riddled with it. Consumed by the feeling of inadequacy recently as a mother and a wife.

Guilt, that I don’t know how to “fix it” and make my son feel like he once did, happy and carefree. Guilt, that my child feels his life is not worth living.

Guilt for my other 4 children, who also have become witness to my sons at times strange behaviors, agitation, hypers or attempts to take his life. I need to shield their young innocent minds and hearts and help them understand. I hope I am not failing them.

Guilt, because I stay awake in bed all night pre-occupied by my son. Hoping he has a better day tomorrow. Not even looking in the future because that is too far to foresee.

Guilt, Because I didn’t take time to hold my husband that day. To make sure he knew he was loved, admired and important. Guilt because I could have found the time but didn’t.

Guilt, because I leave to go to work each morning when I want to be that mum at home giving my everything I have to my family.

Guilt, because I don’t know what the hell I am doing and all I can do is my best.

Being a parent is a tough gig. Far tougher than I ever envisioned all those years ago when we began our family. But most certainly one journey I couldn’t ever imagine not being on.

From one mum to another who reads this post and connects I send virtual hugs. I never thought I would be the person to write so openly on something so personal, but here I am doing things I never thought I would again. This time free writing my thoughts have been somewhat cleansing as an opportunity to get it out thoughts and emotions try not to let them manifest further.

Want to check out some of my usual posts and adventures?

https://steemit.com/@mumma-monza

Proud mum and member of the @Steemitmamas discord group. the coolest hangout for Steem mama's #fact.

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