Sunday, March 22, 2009

Alle

*Means alone in German. Or if not, well obviously my German needs improving.

This pregnancy just gets better and better in terms of my mental health.

I gave up anti-depressants earlier on in the pregnancy, which probably wasn't the best thing by me as depression reared it's ugly head again and I started to contemplate suicide again. I guess the only thing that keeps me hanging on is the fact that I am Catholic and couldn't bear two mortal sins (ie killing myself and my child) than the one. I still go to therapy every week and due to a complete and utter misunderstanding on my psychiatrists part (all I asked was if my second appointment in the month could be bulk billed, seeing I could only barely be able to afford him once a month, he also misconstrued what I was saying and recommended I see someone else...what on Earth? All I wanted was a yes or a no!) I now see another psychiatrist whom I've only just started seeing. And back on the meds. If the benefits outweigh the risks, it should be fine on my child. It's not healthy for a child to have a completely depressed mother who still has thoughts of topping herself.

And one disappointment from Owen to another. And now this. My sister and brother in law completely taking my opinions over a certain politician here way too seriously and continually labelling me a racist. I mean what the hell. Anyone who actually knows me knows that that isn't like me at all. Hell, two of my good friends are from Pakistan, I have lots of friends from different countries here and even another of my good friends was a refugee from Vietnam that went from refugee camp to refugee camp at such a young age. They said if I was joking why was I getting defensive and in hindsight I should have told them that being labelled an idiot, a racist and being told it's proof I was adopted makes me defensive. Way to work up a pregnant person. I wonder how many years it's going to be this time and if they're going to expect me to apologise. They never apologise for this and no doubt will feel that they've been wronged. Whom am I going to ask to be the Godparents of my child now?! And no doubt their version would be enough to turn my newly found relationship with my dad and grandparents to dust. Even though Dad hasn't talked to me since I told him about my pregnancy. And didn't even send a message to wish me a happy birthday. And my brother is completely unhappy about my pregnancy and I say so in censored terms. His explosive tirade at me was enough to convince me that he hates me as much and as deeply as he hates my mother.

And then there's the elusive Mother of mine. Excuses excuses on why she cannot call or send a message. And whenever we do talk she spends most of that phone call chatting about things I really don't give a rat's behind about when I need information about hereditary problems and you know, whatever mums and their pregnant daughters are supposed to be talking about. And then with me hardly getting anything in, she has the audicity to say "I have to go now." And hangs up.

What the hell is wrong with my family? What have I done to deserve this? (Despite the bleeding obvious of having pre-marital sex and having a child out of wedlock) Am I suppose to "grow up" or something? I thought I was handling my pregnancy and my life with utmost maturity. If they only knew just want hell my mind has gone through and is still going through. But no, they're just the kind of people to say I only want attention. Which is bullshit because I hate drawing attention from my family because it ALWAYS causes problems. Like the time I saw a psychologist when I was 14? And she had the great idea of bringing my mother AND my sister into a session with me, and my sister went completely off her brain at me and thought I was doing it all for attention and my depression was just bullshit. You know what happened after that session? After the hellride home I tried my best to lock myself in my room and for the very first time in my young life I started cutting. It actually felt an awful lot better than I felt.

So with my meagre family and friends....well really, I am alone. I don't think I've got anyone that's going to sit there with me and take me to the hospital when I give birth. Although Owen says he'll be there but I just know he's going to disappoint me again. I don't have faith in anyone anymore when they say they will be there and they will be supportive blah blah.

And as for my child? I'm not sure if I'm going to be much support either. I don't have faith in myself on sticking out this existance much longer after the birth. I'm barely coping as it is.
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3 comments:

Bruce Hodder said...

I'm so sorry to read you're feeling this way. It's hard to comment accurately from the outside but it seems to me the people around you have a lot to answer for. Like they're typecasting you in a certain way and can't accept that you're a grown woman who knows what she's doing and at most just needs to know somebody will help her up if she gets knocked down. Someone, as the cliche goes, to "be there for her". And that's not an unreasonable thing to need. We ALL need that.

I can say don't let them push your buttons, but that's too easy, and when people have access to your buttons you can't really do anything to guard them. I can tell you you're not alone too, but since I'm dealing almost entirely in cliches this morning (that's what happens when I write too quickly), the proof of the pudding will be in the eating, right? As it will with the others.

Please wait and see. You may be surprised who steps forward, who shows themselves to have more in them than you expected; and as dumb as it sounds, good things can happen suddenly and completely rock your lack of faith. You know me, Holl, and you know I'm not just spouting faux-Christian dippy greeting-card sentiments to cheer you up. I've seen the dark side too.

A world without Holly would be a poorer world, I think...

March 22, 2009 at 11:04 PM
Holly said...

Thanks for your kind words Fred. It seems to be the most kindest and supportive thing anyone has said about this thus far. My sister wrote me a message to say how she was going to call me to meet up with me and how she was going to give me old baby clothes but now she's going to charity bin and then good luck with your life.

So I got the courage to send her one back, outlining why I did what I did, what effect it was having on me, even the state of my mental health which I usually keep away from my family because they just think it's all 'attention' related. Why would I want 'attention' if it brings crap to my life like this? I'm smarter than that.

Anyway I think she binned the message so I sent one last message actually apologising but wondering why being removed from facebook was akin to removing someone from their life forever. No doubt that will be binned just like the first.

And my brother in law, usually the voice of reason in fights and arguements, has completely blocked me. So I don't hold out much hope.

Grumpy said that the most important thing I need to do is remain in contact with them, that I can't lose them. He's right. It's important for my child too. My child is going to grow up barely knowing even one cousin and barely knowing Owen's side of the family. Going to grow up barely knowing even my Mother too. I don't want that for my child. I know how hard it was for me barely knowing any family.

Needless to say Fred, last night after I wrote that, and I after I wrote that message to her, I had my first panic/anxiety attack of the pregnancy.

I even prayed to God asking for at least him to still be by myside but I felt nothing but a presence that was standing about pointing fingers.

I'm in complete and utter despair. Like someone I love has passed away. I feel like there's no hope. You can't say that there's always hope, because that sounds completely cliche at a time like this.

I need to work out a plan, in case I do end my life. Who's going to take the baby and will anyone ever accurately tell the child who his mother was. I don't trust myself again anymore. I need help.

March 23, 2009 at 9:47 AM
All This Trouble... said...

I have been in your position in the past. I spent about two years adrift in a depression I could not seem to see my way out of. I attempted to kill myself...and then when I didn't die, I decided to live with the purpose of dying. I was about 27 years old and I'd never felt so dismal. I would say that I would eventually kill myself or die trying. My oldest child wasn't even in preschool when it set in. I feel I did him such a disservice during that time. Drifting in and out on him like that. But one day, things seemed a little better. Then over time, after I met Joe, the veil lifted. I think now of him and my children that have been born since and my career and my friends and wonder how I could've contemplated not continuing to live my life.

I am also an adopted child. My parents have loved me and cared for me. I've always felt special but different. The girl who gave birth to me was 13 years old and I'm sure I've had the best possible outcome from my life.

I will also say that my cousin had longstanding mental illness that was never properly diagnosed or managed. After her mom thwarted her attempt to put her baby daughter up for adoption, she just gave up, locked herself in the bathroom along with the baby and hanged herself.

I know some of this may seem jarring but I want to share the things I know. I believe you are feeling the stress of pregnancy, the depression you grapple with and bits of the human condition that pommels us all. It's a lot. Grow that baby. Do the best you can. Sometimes one must survive now to live later.

Good luck, Holly! And congrats on the "maleness" of your fetus! (I read your comment on Fred's blog)

March 29, 2009 at 12:45 AM

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