Oh, by the way…

Chatting… random stuff… medical problems. 

Me: um… would you like me to make you an appointment? I can find a male doctor for you…

Knight: no, not for that…

Me: are you sure? You don’t need to tell me. You’re 15 now. But I can find someone and make an appointment. 

Knight: no… I don’t want an appointment for that…

My brain reeling through possible ways to convince him… and suddenly… I actually heard what he’d said. 

Me: So what do you want me to make an appointment for?

Knight: because I want to kill myself…

Me: for real? 

Knight: yeah… no? Maybe… I just don’t want to sleep. Ever. Again. 

Me: okay… but you don’t want to kill yourself?

Knight: well I do… but I really just don’t want to sleep…

And the Wizard comes in. Refuses to leave. Wants attention. The Knight refuses to talk again because he no longer is in the mood…

But I’m in the mood! I need to talk about this! 

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Morning feels…

Four is too many…

The Princess is away. I hear from her at odd moments through the day and night. 

The baby Dragon is across the drive at a sleepover. They knocked on the door at 7. Who comes home from a sleepover at 7?!?

The Wizard is being his usual morning nerdy self. He’s 8. He’s cuddly. He reacts strongly to moods and stress. He started the morning with a meltdown over his big brother annoying him. He has close to zero understanding of other people’s moods… he just reacts to them. I tell him – look at my face, listen to my voice. I am frustrated. I am tired. I am angry… he laughs and continues. I hold back the tears. 

So… that’s 3. Goes without saying that I love all 4 of them. But my days are filled and I can barely breathe at times. 

Then there’s my Knight. He doesn’t sleep at night. He wakes me to tell me he can’t sleep… or because he’s on his Xbox and he’s loud… or because he’s talking to a friend at 3am and the conversation is hilarious… or because I take the Xbox controller and he can’t sleep… or because the Internet is slow and he demands to know why… all night… every night… 

His favourite saying is kms… kill myself.. I told him this morning that if he doesn’t let me sleep soon, I’m going to kill my own self. 

I feel like a new mother all over again. There’s no break. At all. I want to cry in frustration all the time. I’m exhausted. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. I can’t keep up with their wants and needs and demands. The level of utter self absorption does my head in. 

The Wizard has climbed into my lap. He has no sense of personal space and boundaries. He needs and he needs now. I’m still on my first coffee and he’s asked at least 675435 questions so far. There’s no conversation. He doesn’t tell me things. He asks. Demands. Sits on me and realigns himself for his own comfort. I can’t deny him the hugs he needs. But OMFG I want the space some moments. 

The Knight has disappeared to his room. He’s tired. Am I supposed to care? I’m sure I woke neighbours at 4am when I got up for the 27th time to tell him to shut the f up… 

I remember when I thought I’d be a good parent. I hear others horrified that someone says a ‘bad’ word in front of their kids… oh honey, I say them AT mine…

Friends see the surface. You’re a single mum of four kids. You’re a great mum. 

No… come see me at 4am or 6 am or 8am… my deadly times… see me at arsenic hour or after I’ve tucked them in for the 571st time tonight and it’s nearly midnight. See me when they just won’t freaking sleep or let me sleep. When they bicker with each other or cause havoc in their own frustration. When I count yet another bruise on my thighs (9 atm) or shins (6) because they’ve left yet more crap in a walkway and I’ve tripped yet again. 

Or better yet… come take over for an hour or two… take my phone and take my kids… leave my house and leave me in peace… just an hour or two of utter silence. 

But mu-u-um…

Me: what’s the go with the screensaver?

Knight: What? It’s Alice in Wonderland licking a rabbit lollypop…

Me: Uh huh…

Knight: What do you think it means?

Me: I know what it means… I want to know what you think.

Knight: It means I want to try LSD.

Me: No.

Knight: Oh, come on!

Me: No.

Knight: Mum! Yes! And MDMA.

Me: No.

When did this become a normal conversation???

Running to stand still…

How long do you run, before you realise that’s all you’re doing? From a place.. people…

I ran from my marriage… then my town… friends… career… family…


Somewhere in that mix… I realised I was simply standing still…

My best friend used to tell me I was running. That I’d filled my life with children, people, work, study, committees, commitments…. there was no time left for sleep.. I’d have 3 functions on in a night plus a sport to get to the next morning by 7am… 300km away… 

She could see my unhappiness… as I can see that of others now. I watch them leave – their job, their town… I watch them full those empty spaces with people and things. With exercise – the ultimate unhealthy healthy addiction…

But when do you finally stop and face it? Stand and fight? When do you find the courage to face your demons and become the dragon? 

When do you realise that the unhappiness… that deep seated unrest is right there at your feet… 


I am the dragon. I don’t slay them. But I stand and fight. I call your bluff. I see through you. And I won’t back down to appease your ego. I won’t settle for mediocre. I won’t die at 25 and be buried at 85. 

I watch and wait… I watch you run and fill and try to ignore that nagging in your soul… that discontent… filling the empty spaces and moments with noise and stuff… trying to push down that bubble of discontent… that realisation you are simply going through the motions… discontent… unhappy… settling for mediocrity… because you’re too afraid to face those demons.

I watch and wait… wondering if you’ll ever find strength. Cajonas. If you’ll ever seize your life again and live it. 

I watch and wait… and wonder if you’ve left it too late… if you’ll leave it too late… if…

One of my closest friends died almost a year ago, and a part of me is still so damned angry with her! If she’d had regular pap smears, she’d still be here today… And she had to know… and I’m pretty sure she did… and she was scared… but then, when they said the words – maybe a month, probably less – she just went to another place… acceptance… happiness… I think she was just so tired of fighting life…

I look at my son and my heart breaks. I see the vision of who he may become.. the man ready to emerge… but it’s smothered by the anger and the sadness and the hatred boiling within…

I shared this on FB the other day:

dep

his response – well said, mum…

Because this is the bit that people don’t seem to understand. They think that today is a good day, but you’re laughing, you had a fun time… then they take it personally – aren’t I good enough to make you happy, why would you think of killing yourself when you have people who love you, if you love me you wouldn’t even…

They don’t understand the despair… My son tells me – you don’t understand mum, even when I’m having the best time and I’m laughing, I’m still so angry inside…

And anger is a secondary emotion… we know that… but how do you find your way past it to find the primary emotion?

Sometimes, when he is in the midst of his darkest moments and he is talking to me (so yes, they probably aren’t even the darkest moments)… when he sends me photos of his latest cuts to show he hasn’t cut too deep and that he’s not going to bleed to death… when he promises me he will get someone to let me know he is safe at least if he runs… when he refuses to promise what he can’t give you… Sometimes… in these moments… I feel myself drawn down into those depths… and there is so much raw emotion… so much anger and sadness and despair and hatred and…I can’t stay there… I can’t even describe the blackness of it all….

And it’s in these moments… these fleeting, fleeting moments… when my heart is shattering and I just can’t see a way through it all to find him… to hug him… to let him know i am here…. because he can’t hear anyone at these moments… he’s locked himself so deeply within that there’s just no opening…

In these moments…. I understand suicide… I understand why…. and it’s in these fleeting, fleeting moments that I think the unthinkable… at least he will finally find some release… finally be free of this darkness… because how can anyone live with that all the time? How can you possibly live so deeply in that well and survive?

They are fleeting. I want my son. Alive. I want him to be happy, but I’ve been told that’s not something I can qualify… I want him healthy. I want all the things I am supposed to want… but deep down, what I really want is my little boy back. I want to hug him and to hold him and to reach him… I want to find him again and drag him out of that mess. I want to go back in time and undo this mess somehow. To fix it somewhere back when I could. To insist. And a part of me wants to go so far back that I don’t have him at all – because then he wouldn’t be hurting so much… because he tells me this – he can’t forgive me, because I’m the reason he was born… so I want to fix even that for him… because there is nothing in this world that destroys you as much as watching your child in so much pain… and you can’t fix it…

I can’t tell when I’m being manipulated… and I can’t take the chance that this time it’s real…

He just called me during class.

I want credit.

No.

Please!

No.

But mum…

And so it goes… He starts chatting… telling me he’s a satanist and his friend is a necromancer… He needs to call his girlfriend because she hasn’t been at school this week and won’t talk to him… and last week she slit her wrists…

I can’t follow most of his chatter… most of it’s for show. He’s in class. His teacher is telling him to get off the phone. I know I should hang up on him. That’s supporting his teacher. Supporting the school rules. Teaching him boundaries. But… what if he just needs to talk. If right at this moment, he’s feeling a bit more lost than usual and he really just needs to talk to me right this second…

So I can’t hang up…

Somewhere in the garble, he tells me his dad is taking him to the GP later this week to get anti-depressants…. Ummm, who has diagnosed you with depression?! Of course I’m depressed mum… Honey, there’s so many other things that could be going on in your head, and it’s really important you have a full mental health assessment so they can find the primary cause and give you the right treatment…. Mum! I think I know whether I’m depressed or not. *Dad’s gf* went cause she’s OCD about cleaning so they gave her some pills and she’s good now….

OMG….

I am too far away. He’s 14. My head is spinning in a mess about this… If they give him the wrong medication and treat the wrong thing….

OMG…

How do you sit so far away and deal with this without going insane? Without having your heart shred over and over?

It’s okay mum… mum? Are you there? It’s okay… I just need credit… I need to call *my gf* and make sure she’s okay… Did I tell you I’m a satanist now? There’s a spirit looking over my shoulder. Protecting me. That’s why I didn’t fall. It’s four storeys – did you see that? Or three really – I was standing on the fourth. If I fell, I’d die… I was just hanging there by my arms, conquering my fears mum, you know I hate heights, scares the %$^ out of me… but this spirit is protecting me. Satan sent him… Mum? Can you send me some credit… please mum! I had a panic attack yesterday…. Can I smoke if I come stay with you? What about outside?… You know how you always say – you get more flies with honey mum? You don’t you know, you get bees. And did you know, you get more junkies with ecstasy… Please can I have some credit? No, don’t hang up… I really just want to talk to you mum… I want to live with you… Please can you move here? I won’t smoke in your house…

How did we get here?

  
This is my son… No, there’s nothing between him and the road… No, he isn’t wearing any safety gear…. Seriously, can you SEE any safety gear? What exactly do you mean when you ask that?!?

My son is not making the wisest of choices… Obviously… But so many people are actually more stupid than he is! The questions… The comments… The constant judgment! 

Because you just don’t know… You have absolutely no idea. 

You should just tell him not to do it. Tell him it’s stupid. Tell him… 

I’m past burring up at the diatribe though… Because they can’t help their stupidity… Their thoughtlessness… Because they just don’t understand…

People think mental health is attention seeking. A self indulgent sulk. 

This child and I were talking recently about suicide. I said to him – there’s worse things than death. You could end up a physical vegetable with your mind still active and engaged within. You could end up with chronic, debilitating pain for the rest of your life. You could…. 

But mum! Mum! Listen… Do you know what’s worse than suicide?! Do you know what’s worse than death?!

Yes… That’s what I’m trying to tell you… There’s worse things than…

Depression.

Depression is worse than death.