Category: Crazy Talk

Can’t Be Tamed

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Fitnesslicious, My New Life As Me, Relationships

I was backing up my external hard drive last night and I got looking at a great many things, including old letters that I wrote last January and various old photos.

I was showing them to my mom who said “You look more like you did in your early 20’s than you did in your early 20’s.” I had never noticed, but I guess that’s true. Between the weight loss and the fact that I am no longer under constant stress from late night arguments, money woes, etc. that maybe I do look younger.

Here is a photo essay of the style evolution of MHC!

18 year old me. Wasn't I cute?
18 year old me. Wasn’t I cute?
MH with pink hair and piercings...and fat. I'm 70lbs lighter now.
MH with pink hair and piercings…and fat. I’m 70lbs lighter now.
Taken a couple of days ago. I normally wear my glassed, but since I'm not in the other photos, I'll use this.
Taken a couple of days ago. I normally wear my glasses, but since I’m not in the other photos, I’ll use this.

I’ve focused more on my physical appearance again, focusing on eating the right foods, drinking more water, taking care of my skin and yes, I do look better. Younger? I don’t know, but if so, maybe I’m Benjamin Button (I have had younger friends be mistaken for my mother…more than once). However, I’ve always taken pride in my appearance, even though it sometimes seems like some kind of sin to do so. Women who wear makeup are vain and vapid and incapable of being bright and witty. However, I think liking how you look on the outside will help you like yourself on the inside. You need to like your reflection and during the second picture, I didn’t, even with the pink hair and piercings (which I look back on as some sort of weird phase, trying to make up for how much I didn’t like myself by trying to make myself look better by being edgy and such). So, the better I felt about myself, the more pride I took in my appearance. Last year, I looked put together all of the time. My friends knew I wasn’t myself in the fall and winter because I wasn’t wearing makeup to classes and I just tossed my hair in a ponytail. I wasn’t taking pride in my appearance, which meant I likely didn’t like who I was inside. Now that I’ve taken control of my life, stopped letting my friends dictate how I handle situations (which caused a lot of crap in the fall and I made a mess of a lot of things, but I wanted to fix some situations and I didn’t trust my own judgment. But I learned a lesson in trusting my gut and not letting people convince me to do things their way) and stand firm in my own choices and truly feel independent, you can see the results. I look better. I’ve lost weight. I like who I see in the mirror, which transcends into me returning to my super dominant self.

There’s no shame in wanting to look good, because looking good helps you feel good. It might be that pick me up that you need to help motivate you to reach the next goal. It’s not just vanity; it’s taking pride in who you are and presenting your best self.

I Need Your Love

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Crazy Talk, Current Events, Mommydom, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Television

Giuliana Rancic outraged mothers this week when she made the controversial statement that she puts her marriage ahead of her nine month old son Duke.

She stated that she feels her husband Bill may be a better father than her and that kids do better in homes with happy parents, so she makes her marriage her first priority.

Photo Courtesy of: celebritypregnancy.sheknows.com
Photo Courtesy of: celebritypregnancy.sheknows.com

A lot of women stated that Rancic, who was famously open about her struggles to conceive (Duke was delivered by gestational surrogate), should be more grateful for her son, and that she should be the world’s most doting mom and shouldn’t have any struggles to bond, etc. This reminded me of when my best friend got pregnant with her son after years of struggles to conceive. While sitting with me and another friend, she said she couldn’t wait for her son to be born because she hated being pregnant. Once she left, the other friend said how my best friend was “sick” for not revelling in the pregnancy that she had longed for and if it were HER having the baby, she would relish every second that she was carrying her little one.

This begs the question; are parenting struggles reserved for women who can conceive easily? I can freely admit that I hated every single second that I was pregnant. From the moment I peed on that stick from the moment that each of my daughters were born, I loathed being pregnant. I was tired, sore, I barfed a lot and often ended up on bedrest. It wasn’t fun. My best friend struggled to gain weight, had horrible morning sickness and food aversions. She was pregnant throughout a hot summer in a house with no air conditioning. It wasn’t terribly fun.

Rancic’s admission that she currently feels that her husband has bonded to their son more is honest. She mentioned that as Duke grows, it may be different. However, we need to stop putting pressure on women who struggle to become mothers and try to make them perfect mothers. We’re all human. Moms who have a child via IVF are just as prone to PPD. Moms who have a child via surrogate may suffer from the same anxiety that people who adopt have; the idea that it’s harder to bond because they didn’t have the “joy” of carrying him or her. Rancic’s point that children fare better in homes where parents have a happy marriage is true. Could she have worded it better? Absolutely. But, the Rancics are committed to keeping their relationship together for each other and for Duke and that should be commended.

However a child comes into the world, parenting a child full time is still a hard job. It’s not always easy and it’s not always exactly as you imagined and sometimes your co-parent might handle a certain age or stage better than you. There’s no shame in being honest about these things. Just because it was harder to create the child, doesn’t mean you are obligated to somehow parent flawlessly, with no qualms, concerns, or anxiety. That’s just silly.

Cry

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Douchers, Mommydom, Seriously WTF?

There are two very different facets of my personality.

There is the adorably dynamic & charismatic bubble brain that people know & love & there is another side, that I like to call “Crazy crying MH.”

Crazy crying MH is actually super annoying. She strains my relationships because people perceive me as weak & people feel the urge to protect me from bad things. It means my logical mind cannot process what’s happening, or I’m feeling overwhelmed, or an extreme emotion, like betrayal, sadness, confusion, etc. It’s frustrating for the people around me & I love the people who @ least try to be my friend even though Crazy crying MH exists.

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My parents handled it easily, they told me that my emotions were high & to retreat to my room while I had a chance to calm down. I asked the friends who have known me my entire life how they handled my melodramatic crying jags & they said “we told you to shut the f*ck up & you would stop & be like, sorry about that. Then you’d talk like a normal person & be cool again.” There is one person in this world who can calm my self imposed hysteria by saying my name. However, I hate Crazy crying MH.

I hate her because she brings back that desperate need to be approved of, loved & accepted. When I feel lost, or like my interpersonal relationships are strained or that I can’t communicate my feelings properly, that’s when I become that person that I hate. My ex husband is right on the level that I allow my friends to influence me & my choices more than I’d like, because deep down, I’m afraid that their lack of approval in my profession, my choice in mate, my hair, et al, that I’ll lose some of their respect, which prompts me to second guess myself, which brings out Crazy crying MH, which makes them lose respect for me, which makes me cry more, which brings about the cycle of suck.

But it all comes back to me & my reluctance to be confident in my life, my choices, my path. Wasn’t the whole point of escaping the controlling douche husband for me to become my own person? So, why does it matter if my friends approve of every little thing? I don’t agree with all of their choices, why do I expect them to agree with all of mine & why does it weigh on me when they don’t approve? I don’t like the idea that people will view my friends like they’re my bodyguards, it’s disrespectful to them, because I don’t want my friends to feel like they have to be my brute squad, because then I’ve given them a job & I don’t want to burden people with protecting me. Maybe more people should tell me to STFU, because I’m more likely to snap out of the crying zone & defend my choices.

So, while I’m forced to accept that Crazy crying MH is a facet of my personality, I don’t have to let her out. I need to stop worrying about whether or not everyone agrees & just do what I feel is right & if I’m wrong, then stand by my mistake. This way my friends won’t feel like they need to guard me like a baby chick & I can eventually bury Crazy crying MH until she comes out so rarely, it’s a shock when we see her.

Where We Land

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Quotable Quotes and Potpourri, Relationships, Vampire Diaries

Let me tell you about my friend the Texan.

I met her online on a Mommy message board and from the moment we started talking, I knew she was one of the most amazing people in the world. When I mentioned that my middle child was colicky and didn’t want to be put down, I was surprised with a Peanut Shell sling in the mail, for no other reason than I had a need and she wanted to fill it. I was blown away by her generosity. She showed me through this and our many conversations that she was the living embodiment of the true Christian; someone who loved her neighbour as herself and wanted to be a shining example of God’s love.

When my eldest daughter began her struggles, the Texan was the only person I spoke to. It was nothing against my other friends, but it’s hard to explain these issues when you’ve never lived through them. I’ve been a mom for almost 12 years and I still would never have been able to relate to a parent in this situation until I’ve been here myself. However, the Texan offered me constructive advice and is quick to check in with me on counselling days, which are particularly draining for my child and I. While I enjoy these days, as it helps me come up with an action plan to better meet my children’s needs, it’s still difficult to hear her sob for someone and something that she sees as so easy and she doesn’t understand why I won’t just reach out and make it happen. She likens what she wants to her favourite book romance (Stefan and Elena from the Vampire Diaries; I won’t let her watch the show. Too many hearts being ripped out), and that no matter how long the separations, the love doesn’t die and if I would just make a phone call, that person will show up @ the door & it can be worked out and she’ll get her real family. Of course, real life doesn’t work that way & her dream scenario of him coming back to be with us out of the blue is more of a fairy tale. Of course, that doesn’t stop her from believing every knock @ the door, every time the phone rings, this time it’s him. This time, he’ll be standing there saying he’ll be with us. But the Texan is the one who helps me understand that the guilt I feel is normal, that it’ll be okay and that my efforts to make things better (the counselling, the yoga, the journalling, extracurricular activities, etc.) are all effective strategies to improve things, help with the resentment she feels that I won’t make that phone call that she’s begged me to make for months, because I’m afraid & why don’t grown ups act brave for once, admit they’re wrong, that they love each other & be a family. That way she and her sisters don’t need to be sad anymore. The Texan doesn’t question my choice to fall on my sword as it were, letting her think it’s my refusal to reach out that keeps her from having the person she feels is the best person ever so she won’t feel rejected, because he promised her when he brought her a birthday gift that he’d never leave her ever again. The Texan understands it’s to protect my child…& preserve the memory of the person who was once the most important adult in the world to me (& my natural instinct to shoulder the blame for everything & believing that the people I care about are good. Protect and defend the ones I love, even @ the expense of myself. That’s the MH way). The Texan often mentions continued prayer to help me get through the rough parts by reminding me that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, and I’m so grateful for her guidance. She’s like the coolest older sister figure ever. She’s the one who suggested I blog about these struggles, so I wouldn’t feel so alone; that other parents feel this way sometimes too.

While sitting in church on Sunday, the Reverend mentioned a verse that hit home for me and really helped me gain perspective on a lot of things.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

Whether you believe in a higher power or you don’t, one must remember that the world will not give us more than we can handle. While this may not always have been true, one thing I’ve tried to remind myself is that clearly God has a lot of faith in me as a person. After all, if God won’t give us more than we can handle, then clearly he trusts me to thrive in situations that most people would look at and want no part of. This is the lesson that my amazing friend reminds me of when I lose my way. So, I look at some of the things that I struggle with, from parenting to employment to friendships and some days, even my own sanity as opportunities to grow, to be challenged. Instead of begging God for help, I’m going to thank him for trusting me to tackle these things and rise to the occasion. So, thank you my friend, for being a wise older sister, fortune teller and all around amazing person during times of triumph and tribulations. Thanks for reminding me to welcome these things and be thankful for struggles, for they shape us and make us strong, make us hopeful. We should welcome the darkness because when it’s over, we’ll be more grateful for the gifts we are given. After all, darkness helps us build character. These trying times have helped me discover who I am standing on my own feet, not with anyone to “protect” me and I’m holding up okay. These times have helped shape my parenting style, helping me learn to keep a cool head, which has helped me during challenging times such as exams. There was no panic, simply rising to the occasion and my grades reflected my efforts. Darkness will help me appreciate things as they come, and I will see them as gifts and cherish them, and not wait for the shoe to drop. So, I’m thankful and grateful that the universe trusts me to hold up the world like Atlas, for it will make me a better person in the end.

I may not be the perfect mother or the perfect friend. I may not be a superhuman machine. But I am a mom, a friend, a journalist and a law clerk and a good person and that’s all I need to be, and I have an amazing role model to show me how to embrace those things.

You’re amazing Texan, and I love you.

poohfun

Near Life Experience

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Fitnesslicious, My New Life As Me

I don’t want to be one of those people who acts like some kind of expert on mental illness because I went to a doctor. Those people make me want to punch things…like them.

But, I’ve seen what’s working for me & slowly understanding some of how I ended up so miserable. Two of the things that triggered how I felt we’re my piss poor diet (of nothing) & my lack of exercise. I went from working out 6x/week to yoga @ home 6x/week to…nothing. Sure, I walked everywhere, but I also started eating the snack foods that I had cut out. I wouldn’t eat all day, drank way too much caffeine & barely slept. All of these things can trigger depression like symptoms. Your blood sugar fluctuating causes mood swings & sleep deprivation increases anxiety. I never realized how something as simple as 3 healthy meals & 2 light snacks can make a huge change in one’s attitude. I’m doing yoga again & couch to 5k. It’s already done wonders. I’ve even cut out a big chunk of my caffeine intake.

I always think about what everyone else needs, that I never think about me, what I need, that my feelings are valid too. I make dinner & pick so I know there’s enough if the girls want seconds. I buy them enough clothes to outfit Kenya, but I rarely buy myself anything. I’m not one to get angry about cancelled plans or things like that, but I also never assert myself. By resuming my workout regime, I’m finally doing something for me that makes me happy & only me. I think it’s time I start focusing on myself & what will make me happy & healthy, starting with the body.

I’m still no expert on depression or anything like that. I’m barely qualified to give advice to a goldfish. But I know I’m emerging as MHC again. I’ll look good & feel good while setting a better an example for my girls.

The Writer

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

I stumbled across a blog called Grumpy Comments and it has provided me with great amusement (especially with the how to destroy your copy of the Hobbit post). It’s a fun read, I’d suggest checking it out.

But one thing the writer mentioned this week was the idea that when you’re unhappy, you actually can’t remember what it’s like to be happy (found here).

This is something I have thought about before, and it was refreshing to see someone else feels the same way. Sometimes, even when I was the happiest I have ever been, I often would feel a little bit tainted (as the author put it) because I would start to wonder if my own failings as person would somehow destroy my happy little place. Then, when you’re down and those moments where you were happiest seem so far away, you struggle to remember that moment when you actually were happy. You may have amazing things in your life to be happy about, but you’re so down, that sometimes you can’t remember them. I once knew a person who said that they had no idea how to be happy, that even if they wanted it with their heart & mind, one day, without warning, they would feel unhappy and simply abandon whatever pursuit it was that brought them joy instead of addressing why they felt that way. I told them it seemed like such a sad way to live, giving up on something before you’ve ever really begun.

But why do we do this? Why do we self sabotage happiness? Why can’t we enjoy it? Some people just don’t feel worthy of happiness, some of us are so afraid of spoiling the thing that makes them happy that they’d rather walk away from it, and some of us simply have been hurt so many times that our minds reject the very idea that we’ll actually be happy this time. By the time we’ve stopped analyzing, we’ve likely beaten our happiness into the ground.

Perhaps, we need to remind ourselves that we all deserve happiness, even if sometimes we don’t feel like it. We shouldn’t abandon our pursuit of it and we most certainly shouldn’t beat ourselves up if sometimes we question it, as long as we’re not destructive about it. Perhaps if we shift our focus just a little bit and remind ourselves that our happiness is deserved and worth working through our own inability to see it sometimes.

On Your Own

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Douchers, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?

Once upon a time, in a time that seems like it was a million years ago, I spent every Friday night alone.

I loved it. My girls were in bed and my ex-husband and my best guy friend went to “Country Night” at this divey bar. They would generally drink too much and come home in a cab stupid, but I got to be alone. I would take a hot bath, watch Flashpoint, read a book, go to bed when I wanted (we had a marital rule that we had to go to bed together, always together. Blargh). It was lovely.

Fast forward to the separation and those random moments when we tried to be friends and I was free of the control and I would go to leave his apartment after we argued about something yet again and he would always say “Don’t go. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone. No one calls, no texts, nothing. The silence is horrible.” It wasn’t anger or control, it was mind numbing terror. He sounded so horrified, so sad, like the idea of another night by himself actually pained him. I remembered when we first split, his mother said to me “You will never understand what it is like to be so…alone.” Same thing, the terror. Even my friends would ask me how I intended to deal with being alone and they sounded scared.

Back in the summer, when I felt like things were horrible in my life and I was scraping together enough money to throw my child a decent birthday party, I ended up at his apartment. Not for any reason, except that I wanted to talk to him, rekindle our old friendship, for the girls and because I felt so completely alone. It ended horribly; we fought, I cried so hard. I ended up back @ home after a few hours feeling so small and meek. My friends were screaming @ me asking me why I’d go back there, etc. Truthfully, I just didn’t want to feel alone anymore. So, the past few months, I was afraid of feeling that weird alone place that everyone makes sound so horrifying, so I’ve been trying to spend as much time with people as possible, to avoid that feeling of alone, helpless, quiet.

However, I’m slowly learning that’s why I’m not really an equal in any of my relationships with people. Because I’m so afraid of being isolated from the people I care about, I will do anything to avoid people walking out of my life. I’ll whine, beg, act like an ass and ruin all of my interpersonal relationships. It’s not anyone’s fault; human nature is to use the tools we have to get what we want. If we feel slighted, we will use someone’s Achilles heel to achieve the desired result of “getting your own way.” We all do it, whether we want to admit it or not. However, about a week or two ago, I got thinking about the moment I feared being alone. Yes, isolation has always been used against me, as it was an oft-used childhood punishment, but during my younger years, I would fall off the grid for days, weeks, just because I wanted to veg out. If someone got mad @ me, I would apologize if it was justified and otherwise it was “oh well, if the friendship meant something, we’ll talk it out when they calm down and we’ll both get our feet out of our mouths.” It wasn’t until I heard the terror in the voices of grown men and women, that being alone was so horrifying, that you’ll eventually be driven mad by it.

So, I stopped.

I only replied to a few text messages. I stopped leaving my house except for school. I stopped calling people. I cancelled yet another date. I just sat at home. I watched TV (Chicago Fire is pretty awesome), but most importantly, I didn’t die.

In fact, it wasn’t so bad at all.

Maybe being alone isn’t so terrifying. Maybe it’s just what is. I don’t NEED to be around people to feel sane, because it’s not the end of the world to be alone. I don’t need to constantly be around people every single second of my life, inundating them with chatter or reaching out because otherwise I’ll be in this horrible void of nothingness known as the big, bad…alone.

I’ll just be learning to relax, which honestly, would do me a world of good.

Storm

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Dear Blank, Douchers, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

Normally I write drivel for what I believe is your amusement. Today, I’m writing for myself, to accept a part of me that I’ve hidden (unsuccessfully) for years; my battle with depression.

Throughout my life, I have struggled with depression. I attempted to kill myself @ 10 years old. I stopped eating for a spell in high school when a teacher said I had an “above average weight” (ironically enough, the student she called “fatty” is the one that helped me through it). I let my self esteem deteriorate after two abusive relationships, one in which I was raped & beaten, the marriage where I was told I was fat, ugly & worthless & my only value was to be degraded sexually. I developed PPD after the births of my children. I miscarried three different times and each time I lost my mind. The last two years have been a roller coaster of events, all of which have affected my coping skills. My marriage ended & for the first time in my life, I was on my own & I had never even gone grocery shopping without my ex-husband! I went back to school, jumping into a career path I didn’t think through. I met someone and I fell in love. But with great power comes great responsibilty. I had never had to make choices for myself and I was afraid of messing them up. I was uneasy w/ my academic choice. I had never formed close connections with people before. So, I let my boyfriend walk all over me because I loved him and wanted him to feel safe and understood. I wanted to make him happy, so I kept putting my wants below anything he wanted. I let my friends walk all over me, because I was afraid I’d lose my support system. While I was doing this, I was making myself second best. My friends & my former boyfriend were wonderful and never made me feel unloved or not special, but when they would do something that annoyed me, I would clam up, because I was afraid they would cut me out. I would have trusted these people with my life, but not to remain a part of it and my former boyfriend always wanted to know why I would get overly upset about small things or randomly get super clingy, then flip. He wanted to understand, but the truth was, I didn’t know why. I explained certain things that contributed, but the underlying fear, I honestly couldn’t explain and I was afraid “I don’t know” wouldn’t be enough.

As the months went on, I grew more anxious. I sucked in school. My journalism career was going nowhere. My eldest daughter needed counselling, I bounced a bunch of bill payments and I felt like I was failing. I didn’t have a steady income and I was buried under debt. The final straw? My relationship ended and I broke under the pressure. I moped, because the real problems kept piling up and I felt like I was drowning under a sea of bad choices. I just kept thinking; Why law? Why didn’t you think this through? Why does she have to be on a waiting list, help my kid! Why can’t I help my kid? Why can’t I find a job? Why do I have no motivation to keep my house in order? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! I had never had to face crisis situations alone, I always had a partner who took control & now it was all on me & I felt like I was doing it all wrong. I was afraid of being judged, labelled crazy or viewed as a liability to the people in my life. I lived in this fishbowl, and I wanted so badly to be the Superwoman persona I made for myself. Superwoman isn’t depressed.

Things improved; my relationship resumed and I was so happy and yet so terrified, because I saw how easily he could leave. I was offered a position @ a new magazine that would allow me to do what I loved full time & I finally felt like I had made it as a writer. But, I was still flailing. I had to do everything I didn’t do when I was busy being miserable & situations were escalating & tense. I didn’t talk about the huge problems because I wanted to do it alone so badly, so I focused on the smallest problem, because I thought if I could fix something little, I could finally feel like I could tackle the growing mountain of laundry and debt (which my counsellor told me is very normal for those who suffer with anxiety). Because I was so skittish in my relationship, I would make mistakes, and I again let him walk all over me. I didn’t say the thing I needed to say, which was that I was scared he’d walk out again any second & please work with me on this so we’re both comfortable. I couldn’t because I thought he’d feel like I was punishing him and he’d leave, which he did. Then I had the guilt of my youngest daughter asking for her best friend, my eldest daughter’s anger at me for making him go away, my middle daughter crying because she loved him & wanted him to be with us…and it was my fault. I hated myself because they were so hurt & when I tried to fix it, I displaced aggression (some justified, some not) and made it worse, strained all of my friendships & I felt like nothing.

My law career continued to flounder; I kept getting the run around at my job. For every major victory (helping my eldest child, finalizing my divorce and removing government prescence from my life), there was a setback someplace else. Suddenly, I felt like all of those insults my ex-husband hurled @ me were validated in my mind. Look, MH couldn’t keep it together! She lost her direction, her boyfriend, her friends and she’s no role model for her daughters. I grew so dependent on everyone to try and help make it okay while pretending I was okay, which of course was a façade that all of my closest friends saw through and grew to resent me, and I grew passive aggressive because I had spent so long feeling like I gave more than I got that I couldn’t see that they were trying to help me. Suddenly, I was the person that I despised. So, I made phone calls, my best friends told me off (which I thank them for, sometimes we need a good kick in the ass to help us realize how far we’ve let ourselves sink. No one ever thinks of how much we’re hurting the people we love most when we’re consumed with sadness, and sometimes it takes them to throw it in your face to help you see that you’re impacting their lives too) and I had a good cry. I realized I had become that thing I used to be; weak, sad, and unable to focus and sometimes even hurtful to people I love. I talked to my doctor and we took an assessment and I suffer from clinical depression and anxiety disorder. I wanted so badly to be in control of my life for the first time ever, that I would have panic attacks when things went wrong. But I wasn’t getting help to get them under control, so the attacks would get worse and last longer until I was living in this constant string of anxiety and fear. My counsellor said I was likely subconsciously pushing everyone away because I hated who I was becoming and I wanted all of these people that I loved so much to leave me alone so they wouldn’t have to put up with me anymore. I was self-sabotaging, because I thought they deserved better than me, so I would subconsciously do things to make them cut me out…only when they left, I felt more broken, because I missed them. Now, I’ve got a plan. Between anti-anxiety medication, exercise, working with a dietician & individual and group counselling, I’m going to finally be the person I’m supposed to be.

Why am I writing this? Because it’s a part of me and I need to accept it. The reason my life is such a mess is because I refused to just admit I needed help, take responsibility and be open. I put up walls so people would think I was invincible. I didn’t trust the people I loved that I felt so overwhelmed with my life that sometimes it felt like I was smothering because everyone said they admired the facade & every time they said they admired me, I wanted to scream “WHY?! I’M THE LAST PERSON YOU SHOULD LOOK UP TO EVER LOOK @ WHAT I’VE DONE TO MY LIFE!” I alienated everyone because I couldn’t just say:

“I’m scared that I can’t do this. I’m scared I’m going to ruin everything and mess up my girls and go broke and never make the effort to be a good housekeeper. I’m scared that I’m not a good friend or partner or parent & a drain on you & that I’m putting too much pressure on all of you & I’ll end up pushing you away. I’ve never been on my own and I want to make the right choices but it scares me to make them. Every time I have to I get scared that I’m doing the wrong thing and the things I’m sure about I keep mucking up. I don’t know why I’m so unhappy, please don’t think I’m insane & please still love me while I make myself better.”

As a writer, I say there should be no stigma, but for over a year (& most of my life), I’ve been so ashamed of knowing I would go through months of sadness & pick an arbitrary reason because the honest truth is, I couldn’t even tell you why I get this way. Part of me hopes maybe I won’t feel like I’m alone, that maybe by finally saying the words I’ve held in, I’ll be able to value myself like I do the people I love…and I’ll finally be a role model for my girls. This is why I often write about the idea that no one is too broken to be loved by someone; it’s my greatest wish…for myself.

Maybe I just martyred myself, or gave people fodder to laugh and for once, I don’t care. I NEED to make myself accountable to follow through with treatment. So, my name is Mary-Helen and I’m a journalist who works in a law office and I also struggle with mental illness. I won’t be magically cured by a pill, but it’s going to help. I’m sometimes going to struggle, sometimes I’m going to cry about nothing and self-sabotage and get lost in meloncholy. But I’m going to also work every day for the rest of my life to make that stop and while I’m not okay right now, I will be.