There are so many things that I could say to you and so many excuses that I could run through. I suppose that the first thing I would say to you is that I’m grateful for you and your support. You didn’t sign up for the ups and downs of my mental illness. I see the frustration, followed by patience and understanding. If I could tell you anything its that I know sometimes I overreact about the smallest things and get angry, but please be patient with me. Please understand that I’m in a state of anxiety, depression and over dramatization. Sometimes I know and see the cloud coming over me but if by some chance you see the cloud before me, hold me, love me and leave me be when needed. I know you prefer the good days when I’m happy and excited about all that life has to offer but know that I prefer those days too and this isn’t a choice. I would never choose this over happiness with you and my children. I know you love me and sometimes I forget this because sometime its hard for me to love myself. Its hard to see what you see.
I am blind at times and whats clear to you, is clouded by depression, anxiety, mania and bipolarness. You see sometimes my thoughts tell me I’m a bother, sometimes they team up on me and make me feel anything but what I am to you. On those days when I’m hovered under the sheets and afraid to deal with life, love me harder then you ever have. Encourage me when I’m down, even when you feel that you have done this a million times before because what you don’t know is that you are saving my life. You are reminding me restlessly that I am important and loved. You are pulling me away from the cloud, one piece at a time and showing me sunlight that I had no idea was there.
Sometimes I feel like I’m losing control over my mind and I’m far from reachable. Those are the days that I’m scared. Scared of my thoughts, scared of my life, scared that the whispers of insecurity are right. You are the one that brings me back to reality and reminds me that this darkness won’t linger forever. Bipolar disorder is evil and it lies to me on a daily basis. I never know what thoughts are my own or bipolar. Sometimes I feel that you and my children would be better off without me. Sometimes it makes perfect sense and I know what must be done. But then you come along and make me laugh. My boys come along and hold me tight and in that small insignificant moment to you all, it means the world to me. It allows me to hold on tight despite what I think and feel. It reminds me that I am loved and worth loving despite my minds constant battle. Sometimes I feel that who I am is gone, that I am a mere shell of myself just scratching to reveal itself. The smiles, crazy hair and vodka drinking crazy me is the real me…pushed down by tons of pills and societies description of normal.
Its hard being me when I feel I fall short every time. I could bake cookies with my kids, be excited by trips and draw pictures with them like normal mothers. I know though that I’m not like other mothers. I fill myself with regret and guilt because I don’t fit the script. I do care though. I care more then words can describe and even though I fail at showing my otter devotion because I am lost in my own storm, know this. I love you and my boys so very much. Thank you for everything you do that you never signed up for. Even though you said in sickness and in heath, you and I both know, we never really thought or imagined what those words would mean or how they would change our lives.
Sometimes the urge to harm myself is greater then I would like to admit. Those days I never tell you about. When you ask me how I’m doing please know that I’m not entirely honest. Sometimes I dream of an end where my mind isn’t rushing and the endless list of To Do’s and failures end. Know that those days I need the most love even though you have no clue. I love it when you open up about my illness, when you acknowledge its existence because it allows a certain comfort in opening up myself. I love the support and conversation that’s there because I know its safe to be honest. Speak and tell others of your experience, tell me of your struggles, make me understand so I’m not the only one in pain. In that moment we are one and our pain is relatable, we are both effected by this illness. At the end of the day though I am me, Crazy, wild, workaholic Tasha but I am yours. Please know I try and that trying is a struggle that I endure everyday to be a better mother and wife for you and my boys.
Thank you because a thank you is needed. You don’t know this but every morning I wake up and I wonder will the sky be blue or will it be cloudy? Will it be a good day or a bad? Can I handle this day? When I awaken and see you smiling and holding me tight despite my mania to do it all so early in the morning, I know that it will be a good day.
So for what it’s worth thank you…..