Sitting in my bed, watching Mike play video games the door opens, I say “you better be careful coming in without knocking, what if Mike was naked”. Elizabeth says “Hi..” I give her a confused look she responds “Hi…”. 😂 we sit here for a while the and Belinda comes in, she stops, waves and says “Hi..”. A little while later EJ pops in. So needless to say we (Me, Belinda, Mike, EJ and Elizabeth are sitting on the bed while Mike plays the video game. I snap this random photo of the twins to see if they still look at like 😂 These are literally the moments I live for.
Some people really get joy out of going out to the bar and drinking or to go dancing but me, I get joy of coming home from work, smoking a blunt, sitting in the bed eating snacks with my kids and ole man.
I have spent many years trying to make everyone else happy that I don’t remember the last time I even thought about what makes me happy. It has taken me many years to understand what happiness is and where it comes from. Some would say my happiness is fake because I take medication but I would rather take medication daily then to have suicidal thoughts on the daily. I would rather take medication then be so miserable I can’t even enjoy my family. That is the person I was, avoiding everyone including my children. My mental health took a toll on my relationship with my kids. When I hit rock bottom they went down with me. Belinda wouldn’t even speak to me, she wouldn’t listen to me, she wouldn’t do her homework, she wouldn’t do anything. We fought. A lot. It pissed me off so bad that I would yell and walk away, leaving her crying in the living room. When I scheduled her first appointment she refused to go. It sounds crazy to say my 11 year old refuses to go but she hunkered down on that damn couch and I am not strong enough to pick up her dead weight. Do you know how much of a failure I felt like when I called the doctor and told them she refused to come. The receptionist sounded so confused. I’m sure her thoughts were “aren’t you the mom” because a couple years ago I would say the same thing.
The second appointment Mike literally carried her in like a baby. She refused to walk to the office so he carried her through the hallways. She wouldn’t speak. She wouldn’t sign the forms, I had to write refused to sign in her block. It was a very rough time for her. On the way home she cried and I explained that I wasn’t putting her in counseling to be mean and I was putting her in counseling to help her, to give her someone consistent and on the outside to talk to. I was giving her a safe place to vent and get life advice. I never knew what going through depression was as a kid. It wasn’t talked about. Now I know it is hereditary so therefore we need to talk about it. We need to discuss how to deal with depression and anxiety. I told them how it made me feel, in very good detail. I told them what anxiety was and how to deal with it. So now they both get excited about seeing the counselor. They get to escape life and talk about anything and everything with no judgement. They get to play games and make fidget toys. I explain to them that I take medicine every day and how the medicine helps, which actually came in handy when Ej started taking medicine. I was able to talk him through side effects and how important it was to take daily.
The point in all this is 1. These kids have seen me through so much so it’s my job to see them through the rest of their lives. 2. Parenting is hard as fuck. Just do it the best you know how. 3. Talk to your kids. Show them how to live life, teach them about love, teach them about sex and how to prevent being a teen parent. I don’t mean tell them that you’re going to kick them out or you’re going to do this or that. Talk to them. Tell them about condoms, birth control, and boys. 4. Allow them to have feelings. Allow them to have bad days. Let them know if they are having a bad day they can rely on you. We tend to put importance of school above anything else, especially mental health. If your child calls crying because they are having a bad day take the time out to make sure they are ok. Check them out from school for lunch. Pick them up early from school. Spend the day with them. Take them home and read a book. Something. DO SOMETHING. There are days I don’t know how I’m going to keep myself alive and I’m 31. I have much more experience and leeway than a 12 year old. How can we expect them to have less emotions than us?
Just don’t do nothing.