Ducky Diaries: July 2015

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Thrown into the deep.

So, I wrote this post about a week ago and have been staring at my draft box ever since trying to decide whether to hit publish or delete. This is a post about mental illness in one of it's many forms. It's important to know that those of us battling a mental illness are not all the same nor do we have the same brain chemistry. The journey towards acceptance and management is a very deeply personal one and it does not fit the cookie cutter mold that society portrays it as. 

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Some of you may or may not know that I've battled an anxiety disorder coupled with panic attacks and OCD for over two decades of my life. 90% of the time I'm fine but sometimes if too much is going on at once and I don't take the time to slow down and breathe I'll have a "flare up".

Recently everything in life collided and I did not take time to breathe and process. Which has led to an anxiety ridden hell the past month of my life.
It started when I came to the realization that Bear is growing. He's not just a kid with Special needs, he's a person with Special needs (which sounds bad but I don't mean it that way), and that entails him growing in size. 

It's no longer as simple as carrying around a two year old baby anymore. I'm carrying a four year old, who's 2 feet away from being my height, up and down a staircase. I'm nearing not being able to just carry him wrappped around my neck from my vehicle to our front door. It's getting tricky and a little dangerous. 

Our dynamic of small child and adult is changing and it's scary.
And not only did this hit me mentally and physically, it hit me emotionally. HARD. All the questions, doubts, fears about the future, Bear's future, the sadness of my time carrying him coming to a close, with that the realization that I won't be able to protect him forever. Simply put my baby isn't a baby anymore. Which in part is something every parent goes through.

It's a very tough realization. To know our way of doing things has to change, to know we're on the verge of adaptation. Suddenly it's not so simple, realistically or metaphorically.  

Around the same time, I was reconnected with biological family that I had essentially been ripped away from almost 28 years ago as a small child by my abusive mother. I'm not going to say too much here for others privacy purposes but I'll share what I'm comfortable with.

I'm learning about my deceased father and my huge family, I'm grieving a long past death as though it happened recently. I'm seeing baby pictures of myself which is something I've never had the pleasure of. I'm meeting so many people. And while I'm so happy, I'm overwhelmed and in uncharted territory. It's just a lot for anyone to handle.

I basically overloaded my circuitry. And unfortunately when that happens, the OCD monster rears it's head.
 I'm obsessing, organizing, and rearranging all the furnitures....
But I'm okay. And I will be okay. My house looks pretty great to. 

A beautiful soul of a friend recently told me that "real life isn't always funny", when I confessed that all of this is why I haven't written anything in so long. 

And she's right. So very right. Sometimes real life is messy, chaotic, and overwhelming with a touch of mental illness.