Mental madness pt2

its a strange thing when you lose your mind. people make fun of you when they see the visible signs that you are weird. i make fun of me when i act weird. sometimes i can feel myself being pulled towards things i have no knowledge of. sometimes i make fun of myself for the boys to laugh at.i do it as i am on the very edge of delusions or hallucinations, or my mind just shuts down. if i dont engage people with funny stories and incorporate some very real information about me or my illness.i have been physically sick for 4 months now and i i am gain clarity of thought . i thought this recipe was a winner. make fun of the serious subject that affects all 3 of us, or slip into a catatonic state a place where my quirks are welcome to celebrate or understand those that care.its too bad that my kids arent old enough to appreciate me when i am working the mental illness gig. having a mental illness is bad enough but while i've been talking gibberish and getting more and more feedback from the kids. its either "you're an idiot mum" or "i've had enough, why dont you try talking to yourself". what the kids dont know is that there is method in my madness. when i engage people in conversation, usually its the kids, i am pretty tuned into the kids and i think sometimes thats a good thing. other times its just plain selfish. the selfish behaviour of the mad woman. i get tired doing head laps and i forget to introduce my truth and explain their role in that. 
if i dont connect with someone soon i start to shake, my head tremors. i cant string a sentence together.i feel so embarrassed. i was a very intelligent person, interested in the world i live in. now i'm interested in orchestrating the next day so i make it through to the next.
i get tired , like i am now, jesse called me an idiot.if i was refreshed from sleep and in good physical health i would lap up any indication that we were in fora battle of the familiar mind games. after jesse called me an idiot tonight i ripped into him about name calling and how inaccurate it usually is and i never want to hear him call me names. i really lost it, it was like i snapped. i am so tired of mental illness. i didnt realize that the kids wore so much of it and the only thing holding them togather and dragging me along too, is the knowledge that i wouldnt make it by myself in the real world.
i feel really sad and i have a lack of direction. kobe is home with e. he knows that i am fragile right now.from about 3 months ago until no the kids have been making fun of me, i dont begrudge this strategy, i taught them how to be a smartass and get away with it. i look back 3 months and i dont see much, fever, pain i couldnt alert the nurse of as i couldnt talk. i have my voice back now but i struggle for words. plain, simple words. i dont know if this is my make fun or die recipe or if its a symptom of one of my illnesses. in the back of mind i have a possibility that scares me. i wonder if i am unable to be an intelligent person after i flushed 300 xanax down my throat 18 months ago.i wonder every time i open my mouth if what comes out will be intelligent or will it be immature and irrelevant. and i wonder if jesse jokes will be a source of entertainment. i think logic tells me that i not only explain to the boys that we are living a life full of manic expression or trying to survive through another depression. depression where its a struggle to feel nothing or to be still and as i scan my room, as i often do to try to remember who i am. another fucking talk about mental illness with the kids. and jesse needs some indication when he is unable to tolerate my weirdness. and i need to not snap. i created this life, so i better get busy fine tuning it. again with the references to mechanics and engines. i have a thing for mechanics. maybe its all those t&a calendars. i like to think its because they are so masculine. everything has its place in a work shop. they move with purpose and precision and they know exactly how many turns of the shifter are required. mechanics(the surgeons without god complexes).
joxoxoxo

what's in a name

everyone knows how i love my boys. jesse, who at the age of 7 became our lookout as he knelt up facing the back window in the car , saying things like he's three cars back mum, we're losing him, faster mum, he's gone, i cant see him. jesse , mine and kobe's protector and jesse the 7 year old kid who demanded to be like the other kids,

i've been transparent with everyone, including my boys since the day we left mark. as they grew they seemed stronger for the truth, their truth, not mine, not their fathers. music and art kept me sane and it helped the kids just as much. i remember kobe walking through the dining room one day and he stopped at my current painting and he looked very intently, looked at me and said "mum you really are angry" kobe had been diagnosed with Asperger, adhd and odd, all of the meant nothing to me, he could read me like a book. he watched me every day singing and dancing and shopping the thrift stores looking for supplies. when he went into himself and rocked to soothe himself , i sat down gently beside him and sang his song, eventually as i rocked to the rhythm of his body i could feel him let go of his anger. time for cuddles, so i ask him if he wants a cuddle and if he did i rocked him like  little baby and watch him go from furious raging to calm soothing hugs from mum. i watched as kobe included himself in activities. he needed me frequently, to guide him and love him.

 decided a little while ago that i was going to tell the boys exactly what illness i had and what the symptom were in case they ever need the information and they were on their own.i am trying to be non confrontational as i write this blog..jesse is pretty reliable and in tune with me. he gets to my side quickly if something is wrong and he deals with it. kobe on the other hand, i think he is scared. when i lose control of my mind he frets and is visibly scared.i try t talk to him afterwards but he goes back into himself and becomes invisible. this week i have calling out to tony, my nephew who  shared my life with until about 11 years old.  all week i have responded to kobe by the name tony. sometimes i call out for tony a dozen times and its really hard to access the name kobe in my memory,it feels good to remember tony and my memories seemed to have clarity. i wish i could go back sometimes and stand up for him and be nicer to him, not cruel and mean.he was like my twin, blonde hair, blue eyes, same big head. i am sorry i didnt take a protective role in tony's life. sorry for tony and sorry for his mum.my dream today is to come across tony and he has a successful career and a happy life.

kobe is fed up with me calling him tony, so fed up he challenged my authority over my own body and mind, i can't let that happen.i used to think that i just needed to get well. i am still waiting for the illness to go away. i know its hard living with a person with mental illness, but think of it this way, its hard for a person with mental illness to live with themselves. kobe left home this morning and hasnt come back. i wish he was in my arms again, like he did when he was 4. little kids <little problems>big kids bigger problems. this problem goes back generations, different people, different spin on it axis. just come home kobe and i will love you and make it better.

love mum xoxoxox  

things you can say to talk down a mentally ill person; are you ok,if you need me i'm  right here, its ok, i am with you and if you can tell me what you need. theres no need to be ashamed, everyone on this planet has something different from the next person. some ppl keep their secret about themselves until the grave. not you and i, we will always be vocally standing tall for inter generational PTSD, crimes against women and children, and the use ot enrichment programs to express them selves safely in the company of peers,