Hope and Change

When I first met my husband, about 5.5 years ago, I had no idea who I was. Life was a chaotic, terrifying mess. Because I didn't have a sense of self, I couldn't spend time alone. The walls would seem to crush in on me. For the previous 7 years I had filled my time with anything and everything I could. And I mean anything - I made some extremely risky choices that could have led at any time to me not being here today. I needed these exhilarating, risky experiences to remind me that I was alive, that I felt, that I was a person. I lived for the moment, spending all I had, drinking without thought for the responsibilities of the following day, sleeping with whoever was around, regardless of whether I liked them or not. All the time trying to escape spending a moment alone and being forced to hang out with the monsters inside.


As a child, I loved to read. I read almost constantly. But now I couldn't read, because I couldn't spend that much time alone. I couldn't complete university assignments. Everything I turned my hand to fell apart, because I didn't have any focus or internal motivation.


And then, I met Pete. And he was the opposite of me in so many ways. Such a stable, secure sense of self. I wanted what he had.


Over the next few years, he supported me unconditionally as I fumbled my way forwards. I spent a lot of time alone. I knew I needed to, in order to move forward. A lot of stuff came up, and it was extremely painful. I joke that I cried for the entire first year of our relationship. I grieved for the childhood that had led me to where I was; for the bullying, for the loneliness, for the self-loathing. I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, and that diagnosis took me one step further towards self-acceptance.


I didn't work for three and a half years. I walked, I prayed, I cried, I felt pain. I spoke with my counsellor. Towards the end of that time, I volunteered with asylum seekers, and that helped renew my vision, to help me to see and understand how lucky I was, and how much was available to me. The pace was slow. Oftentimes, I would wonder whether I had really taken any steps forward. Whether I was really doing anything.


I went back to work. I managed to hold down that job, if only for a short period, in a way that I had never been able to before. Stable. It was only for a short while, because I became pregnant, and gave birth to our son in July 2013. He was such a longed for child. Everything I had done over the previous few years had been in the hope that he would join us one day.


This year I have found myself in uncharted territory. I knew that I had inherited my issues, but when I looked online to find reassurance that I could avoid passing them onto my son, I couldn't find anything. And that's what motivates me to write this. 


So far, my son is thriving. So far, I have coped with parenthood better then I ever dreamt I could. The stable sense of self I have started to build has really paid off, and since Sam was born, I have found I've taken huge leaps forward in learning confident selfhood. He needs me to. Every day, I try and liberate him to be him, and I feel that in doing so, I am using my experiences to help create something of beauty. 


As I see him grow, I understand more about what went wrong for me. This is often painful, and something I am struggling to integrate is how to work through this pain whilst caring for my son and being a wife. But I feel reassured that we will find a way through, when I look back over all that has changed so far.


And I just wanted to share my belief that for the next generation, the best thing we can do is to be the best us that we can be. That change is possible. And that treating and understanding our mental health liberates and empowers our children, whether future, present, or grown.


For anyone struggling with similar issues, I would highly recommend finding a counsellor or therapeutic environment, and to not discount private counselling. I saw my counsellor through a charity called The Haven (based in Ashby de la Zouch) and because our household income was low, they charged me a very affordable rate. The benefits paid dividends as it meant I could see her as long as I needed, rather than being constrained by NHS funding (I feel that having a long term therapeutic relationship, with me controlling the end of the relationship, greatly helped me towards overcoming attachment issues). I had person centred therapy, and found it great for supporting me as I tentatively constructed a positive self image.


For those with children, or hoping to have children, I would really recommend Daniel Siegel's book, 'Parenting from the Inside Out'. It gave me hope when I needed it.


I feel very lucky. I applied for benefits during my time off, but I only received them for a year of the 3.5 I needed to get to a place where I was stable enough to work. So I feel very lucky that we could afford for me to have the rest of the time I needed. I also feel lucky in having found my counsellor. I had great NHS support in Cambridge (where I lived before meeting my husband), but appropriate psychological support was not offered in Loughborough. So I feel very lucky to have had affordable treatment locally, and to have had the time to invest in it.


I wish there were better provisions for people with mental health issues. The right support helps to turn everything around. I was surprised that no help was offered while I was pregnant, and when my son was newborn. What is the point of giving people life altering diagnoses if the support is not in place to help them turn their lives around? Without the support I have received from my husband and counsellor, I would have greatly struggled to care for my son, and his life prospects would have looked very different.


Btw, I still struggle to read. But I believe in change... So who knows? The sky is the limit!