What We Weren't Talking About

When my 10 year old bit the concrete at a water fountain, I posted a picture of her busted lip and chipped tooth on social media shortly after we left the urgent care center. When my son had an enlarged lymph node the size of a golf ball on his neck, I posted on social media after a couple days of no definitive answers from the doctors.  And when all 5 kids got sick with a virus that didn't' seem to be getting better on it's own,  my husband "checked in" on Facebook  from the pediatrician's office's waiting room. Each time family and friends offered prayers, encouraging thoughts  or a sympathetic word.

When our oldest began to miss so much school because of her anxiety that she had to have a teacher come to our home, we kept it quiet.  Months later when she was hospitalized, we didn't even tell our families until several days later.  Nor did we mention it when my husband took her back to the hospital during our spring break, or the following weeks when wshe was in an outpatient program. When our 2nd oldest was hospitalized a year after the first,  my husband finally shared with our parents and siblings what was going on.  And this past summer, when our oldest was back in the hospital, those on social media were none the wiser.  In fact,  the busted lip I mentioned,  the one that I thought nothing about posting,  happened the day after the oldest was released from another stay in the hospital.  

During the past three years,  I've watched others share their healthcare struggles on social media.  I was invited to Facebook groups or pages set up to keep everyone up to date on the current conditions,  treatments,  set backs, and goals met.  I saw Gofundme pages and blogs shared about strangers dealing with life threatening illnesses or injuries.   I got notices from websites like Caringbridge that were set up to streamline getting information about a loved ones health condition.   Sometimes I'd stay up late reading pages of some stranger's story about nursing their child while dealing with a particularly bad day,  or how they celebrated the smallest victories on  a good day.  Sometime,  my heart twinged a little as I saw whole communities showering them with love or the beautiful relationships they seemed to have with their child's caretakers.  I was searching for some sort of example of how you take care of a child who is sick.  Although I gained inspiration from these stories there was also a loneliness for me.     Where were the blogs about taking care of a child with severe mental illness?  Where were the stories talking about the hopelessness,  guilt and failure a mother feels when she leaves her child at the hospital knowing that she only gets an hour every other day to visit?  Where were the Facebook pages that showed me the kinds of ups and downs I was going to experience with every med change or new therapy we tried?

The good news was that eventually, I began to find people with stories similar to ours.  We whispered in a quiet corner at a Halloween party or the foyer at church.  I had  found it was too hard to keep completely quiet about what was going on at home.   As I began to open up just the slightest about it, the stories began to trickle in and eventually it even  led us on the path to the therapist and psychiatrist that would help more than the previous ones could. The new therapist suggested we also join a parents group.  Although,  small and private,  there was relief in knowing that there were other families like ours.  They were smart,  kind,  devoted parents, many with strong religious convictions and they were just as blindsided by mental health issues as we were.   None of them seemed the least bit like they would have been a guest on the Jerry Springer show or have TLC series about them.

For a while now I've known the answer to the question was for me to share our story.   I've spent hours over thinking things.  Do I share on our family blog?  How can I talk about my kids issues without it coming back to haunt them on future job applications?  What parts our mine to share? How do I balance trying to speak out about stigma while respecting my children's wishes?  What if they're ok with what I post now but regret it in the future?   It can be terrifying.  If my kids have taught me anything though,  it's what bravery looks like.   I hope as I share our story,  that others will feel less scared to share their stories and that one day,  we will treat mental illness like any other.