It really is a tired analogy but it is my truth. This week has been the heaviest of the heavy, possibly since the week Noah was born.
My sister has some deep mental health issues that have come to light this week, along with some risky behavior that could potentially hurt her for the long term.
Along with these issues come the fact that I, perhaps foolishly, got our parents involved. The aftermath has made me regret doing so, even though it probably still is the best decision. It’s just irritating that doing so has added onto my burden rather than diminishing it in any way.
My mother is someone who apparently can’t pick up on anything to do with nuance, tact, or tone. This isn’t me being mean, it is just fact. She doesn’t seem to understand how to phrase her questions and comments in a gentle, non-judgmental way. She doesn’t just drop a subject even when people tell her not to go there.
More importantly, it pisses me off that I sent her all this information about mental illness and she just doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get that there is usually not one exact cause of depression, that a little exercise typically doesn’t “heal” depression and you can’t just “snap” out of it. It’s like she believes every myth about depression, ever. And she seems to ignore whenever I try to tell her differently.
Maybe I just have “super understand-y powers” because I too am trying to deal with severe depression. I don’t know. In any case, the fact of the matter is that I just cannot carry all of this shit by myself. I can’t.
I started therapy a few weeks ago and anti-depressants on Sunday. I’m trying to make myself better. Meanwhile, I still have to force myself to get out of bed every day because there’s a little person depending on me. The antis make me hate life….I probably sound like a whiner but constant nausea (along with digestive issues, exhaustion, and apparently an inability to drink Coke/caffeine or eat normal portion sizes) is not a good time.
Adding to that is of course the “normal life” aspect of being a SAHM. This damn house that I am constantly behind on. Bills and money stress. Trying to remain social and keep in touch with friends (I usually fail the most at this). Caleb and I’s relationship.
Keeping on top of my “special needs life”, including coordinating appointments and therapy for Noah. His therapists and workers have picked up on my struggles in this area and now communicate with me exclusively via email.
Now having to add this new burden, of trying to help my sister and rein in my mother’s ridiculousness.
I just can’t handle it. I am drowning. I am not strong enough to carry all of this and I don’t know what to do about it.
I convinced my sister to go to a mental health walk-in today without me and that seemed to be zero help as they said that she seemed to be doing it for other people….like are you fucking kidding me? I’m trying to help her by sending her to a place that has people who can better identify her issues and send her to the right place and they are telling her that she doesn’t want it enough. WTF is that. I get that they can’t help her if she doesn’t want to help herself but she has crippling anxiety and literally won’t help herself. So now we’re back to square one, I guess? Where I carry everything? Where she’s still doing the risky behavior because I wanted them to refer her to therapy so that she’d have better strategies to bypass that impulse?
I am not a mental health expert. I am not qualified to help her move through and deal with her issues. She needs a professional.
I am emotionally exhausted. I am just so. effing. tired. I can’t take any more bullshit.
I can’t carry everyone.