demons: parenting children with mental illness

No one told me about the demons.

The demons that your kids will face and how parenting them through that could bring out your own demons and that putting on the smile, figuring out what to do and how to handle things feels like drowning at times. 

It could be the demon of the fear of being alone, or of the dark. And you're stuck between being the tough parent or the consoling one. It could be the demon of something setting off an anxiety that halts their eating, their very means of surviving. It could be a sickness, a disability, behavioral issues or just plain going through a rough patch. It could be food allergies or an autoimmune disease. 

For us, it's a handful of the above. And y'all, it's all so overwhelmingly hard.

As a child, I grew up with OCD and anxiety. I experienced depression in college. Postpartum depression twice. I know those demons. And it crushed me when I saw them here. I feel them in my bones. 

I see in my child's eyes exactly what they cannot express. And that's just it, sometimes they can't express it. Sometimes they can and it still makes no sense to them. They are battling something that you see so clearly but can't fix. 

They are kids. Just kids with these big thoughts and feelings and demons. And, if I'm being honest, they get it honest. Genetically, they are predisposed to some of these things because of me. But I try to not go there.

But you combine food allergies, celiac disease, anxiety and OCD. Those demons. They suck the breath right out of me, and I can't imagine what they do for my kids. I put on brave faces and big smiles, or cry with them. I offer support. I educate and advocate and fight for them. I hold them when everything in them doesn't want to be held until they realize that's just what they need. 

I see them. I see their pain. I hate their demons. I hate my own demons. I hate knowing it's not a simple fix. I hate when others don't see it or validate it. I hate that I have to trust others to see what's going on and help them when they don't understand exactly what's going on. I hate their minds are even contemplating these thoughts, keeping them up at night and occupying their brains to the point that other, happy things (or sleep) can't break through. 

Mental illness is so real. I've always been very upfront about my struggles. I'm thankful to be in a really good place now, because that's where I need to be to wage war against these things. To help heal. Speak up. Love and love and validate and validate. Watch and recognize. 

Yes, mental illness in children is a very real thing. And it's terrifying as a parent. For such a young soul to fight such big battles is so unfair. But we must win and we must start now -- their entire village in it together. Because the alternative is too terrifying to even consider.

{I wrote this two years ago today. And so much still rings true. Pierces my heart. The cyclical nature of mental illness means some things are better today. Others more of a challenge. This has been our life and on my heart for more than seven years. And writing is healing for me. And I hope to bring awareness and empathy. As well as a little pep talk for myself.}