There have been so many times I have thought about giving up. There have been times when I had no idea if I was going to survive.
The truth is some of those times I did not want to survive and I wanted to give up.
During the ten, almost eleven years I spent involved in an abusive relationship I had suffered with depression greatly, two breakdowns almost finished me off.
I forgot what my name was at one point, I was walking down the street yet felt as if I was stood still and the world was on fast forward.
My mind was broken along with my spirit and soul.
I was an empty shell previously to leaving
I cannot count the times I wanted to end my life, or how many times I planned it.
To this day mental illness plays a huge part in my life; I was diagnosed with bipolar almost four years ago now.
I am convinced that all mothers at some point have felt like giving up.
“I give up” I hear many say when their kids are not listening to them or when they are searching for a job and nothing is available.
“Giving up is not an option” I will always tell them, because it isn’t.
Had I have given up I would not be sat here now, in my teddy bear pyjamas writing this blog post, but more seriously my children would be without their mother.
Had I have given up and ended my own life I would not have met a man who worships the ground I walk on and gone onto have another three children.
For all the pain and hurt my life has dealt me, it was also kind in so many ways. I have six healthy and happy children and a supportive husband. I owe my life and happiness to them.
I have been given the opportunity because of my mental illness to meet so many amazing mothers, who just like me fight every day to be good mothers, despite past traumas.
Do you know how it feels to hear a mother tell me her life was ruined and she questions everything about herself, has blamed herself because her own mother gave up and took her own life. It eats me up inside because I know I have come that close to doing the same to my own children.
But there has been some good come from the bad.
Giving up is easy, fighting takes strength and determination
My life is not easy, I could not describe in a single sentence how bipolar and my past have affected me as a person, that’s a blog post in itself, but I have learned so much about myself along the way.
I am a fighter and I don’t give in.
I may still cry myself to sleep some nights or wake shaking in the night from a nightmare but I am still here, still facing it and still fighting it.
My past does not define me, I made it and I am surviving.
I carry so many emotional scars yet I am proud of how far I have come.
“I don’t want to be a mum anymore” I cried to my husband a few weeks ago.
I was tired, emotionally drained and it had been one of those days where I felt ill. I had stopped taking my medications and I learned the hard way what happens when I don’t take them. I was half manic and half depressed.
I fell onto the sofa and leaned against Matt, telling him I would leave and he could take care of the children because they were better off with him.
I was giving up
After a night of restless sleep and the guilt eating away at me I awoke the next morning and went to find the medications I needed.
I had to start fighting, all over again.
Giving up is not an option when you’re a mum is a saying that keeps me alive.