Tag: mental health

Negativity and How it Impacts Your Life

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Negativity and How it Impacts Your Life

The first weekend in May I took my son on a trip, just me and him. We went to the Disney Jr. Dance Party (which I highly recommend, it was very enjoyable, and the tickets aren’t overly expensive) and it was roughly a 5-hour drive from where we live so it was really just us, for the first time. And I wasn’t sure how things were going to go because C (my son) has had such poor behavior recently and things at home have been very negative.

So, y’all when I say I was nervous about this trip, I mean I was on the verge of a panic attack about it. Like there were several moments the week before where I was quite literally talking myself down from an impending panic attack.

Like I just knew something horrible was going to happen (and I mean someone did hit my rental car so ya know, not ideal).

But, the weekend was great! There were only a couple hiccups, but he was extremely well behaved the entire weekend. He ate much better than normal, he wasn’t so fussy, he went to sleep well. Just like the complete opposite of how he has been at home recently.

I mean I still yelled at him, but very rarely, I yelled at the GPS 1000x more than I yelled at him (man those things are so great and super terrible at the same time). Because he was just very well behaved and most of why I yelled at him was because I was tired or frustrated with the GPS, not so much his behavior.

Our interactions were so positive that I never wanted the weekend to end, but of course it had to.

 

The Fallout:

As soon as I told him we were going home he started bawling his eyes out.

Mind you, I’m a fairly easy-going mom so it’s not like I was more lenient with him than normal, this trip was pretty well the norm for us. I mean we slept in, watched movies, I let him eat ice cream for dinner, etc. But mostly we just hung out and spent time with one another.

But even so as soon as I told him we were going home you would have thought I told him I just killed mickey mouse or a puppy. And I know he can be sensitive so maybe that was all it was, but it really got me thinking? Why was he so averse to going back home?

I told him everyone we were going to see when we got home, ba (his grandpa), gramma, grammy (great grandma), and uncle Jim (great uncle), but he was super not pumped to see everyone except his grandpa.

So, I really started thinking WHY does he act so differently at home and around our family than he does when it’s just the two of us? Maybe it’s because I act differently around them.

 

My situation:

So for some background, I live with my family. It’s nice having some help when I need it and it’s great being able to save money and not have to worry about high rent costs.

But, for me this house is a negative space, the people in it are very negative, I have negative memories here and it holds negative connotations for me that I’m living here still at this point in my life and that colors my entire experience here.

My father was always a yeller and so, of course, my first instinct is to do that when C does something wrong. But even beyond that when C does something wrong or gets upset because he is so sensitive my dad gets really angry about it.

Like he will get so mad and so annoyed just because C is being a kid. He’s making noise and having fun and no, he doesn’t always do as he’s asked but him and I are working on that. And no, he may not always act how he should (as in not yelling or listening) but again he’s a kid and I, his mother, and correcting this behavior.

But both him and my mom act like it’s a personal affront to them when he misbehaves. I don’t feel that I can be the parent I want to be in this environment and WC has too many people trying to parent him in too many different ways at the same time.

It’s confusing for him, stressful for me and creates an all-around bad environment. Not to mention that I feel like I am failing my family by being here. I feel like this environment holds me back and it’s no secret to anyone that I can’t wait to leave.

The Why

And look y’all I’m super grateful. But it’s just not a good environment. There is so much fighting, so much nitpicking, and so many just negative attitudes. This makes it a hard environment to actually be positive in.

I know that I am not blameless here. I for sure contribute to the negativity. And a lot of that comes from not having a space where I can unwind and be myself, by myself. This leads to me feeling stifled, trapped and angry.

I feel that this is where a lot of the negativity in the house comes from for everyone. There are just too many people, too many opinions, and too many attitudes in on place.

And when one person gets angry or annoyed then very quickly another person does until everyone is angry or annoyed.

This easily spreads to C as well. I don’t think that he knows why he’s getting upset or why the energy in the house is so negative. but he can sense when it does because as soon as it does he gets cranky. He will start stomping around and frowning, crossing his arms and being very uncooperative.

Now, he had always been fairly independent, super happy, constantly singing and just a joy to be around. But that changed very suddenly because I lost my job. So, he went from going to a sitter five days a week and playing with kids. To suddenly being at home all the time hanging out with me, my mom and my grandma. And they don’t get along that well.

I know that he can have bad days just like the rest of us can. But, his bad moods seem specifically triggered by negative situations and emotions in the house.

The outcome

The trip definitely changed my perspective. It made me realize how negatively can impact your life without you even knowing it. I knew that things had changed with C. He wasn’t so easy going, that he seemed quicker to anger and suddenly never wanted to leave my side. Also, I had been less patient, angrier, and just overall very negative.

I realized how much the negativity in my environment affects my mental health as well. It’s harder for me to control the symptoms of my illnesses. It’s harder to turn my own negative thoughts and feelings into positive ones when I’m constantly surrounded by negativity.

But I’m committed to trying to not let the negativity in the house affect my feelings so much. Committed to making a change so that my child never questions my love for him. I want my son to know that he can come to me with anything. And that I will respond with an open mind and as much positivity as I can muster when he does.

Which truthfully will include a hefty does of sarcasm and maybe even an ‘f’ bomb or two. But I will not allow this negativity to continue to change our relationship and change my once joyful little boy.

So, mamas, take a look at your lives, identify any sources of negativity and see what you can do to change them. Ever since I realized this not only do I feel better, but I’ve noticed a difference in C as well. So mamas tackle that negativity and kick its butt to the curb!

Leave a comment below

And tell me all about the negativity in your life and the steps you’re taking to tackle it!

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Suicide Isn’t Selfish

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Suicide isn’t Selfish – In Light of Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade

I could tell you every single time that I had contemplated suicide. And every single time that I attempted suicide. I don’t know life without depression, I don’t know life without suicidal thoughts.

The first time I contemplated suicide, I was 12.  I had been asked out by a boy in my class, only to have him turn to his friends and laugh as if they all knew some joke that I wasn’t in on, and I suppose they did. A boy on the bus spat on me and called me a beached whale. After that I was terrified of riding the bus.

Everything seemed to hit me at once. Everything was too big, too much, too painful.

Every day felt like a personal affront against me. I just wanted things to be over. I wanted the pain to end but it seemed to just pile on, endlessly.

The second time I contemplated suicide I was 14. My friends and I were fighting and none of them were talking to me. I remember sitting in the library after school writing to myself, as if I was writing a letter, so it looked like I had something to do while all my friends that were there sat at another table, gossiping.

I remember feeling completely and utterly alone. The people that I was supposed to be able to count on and confide in were the same ones making me feel like I was worthless.

 

The third time:

I tried to overdose.

I took so many pills that I lost count and washed them down with alcohol. When I woke up, I was devastated. Having failed was more painful than wanting to end things in the first place because it meant I had to keep on fighting. I had to continue enduring a pain that never lessened.

That entire day is a blur. I know I went to school, but I couldn’t even begin to tell you what happened, I don’t think I made it through my first class. Everything was fuzzy.

I remember stumbling around my house for days, as if I was constantly drunk.

I tried again when I was 16 (I haven’t been able to swallow pills without gagging ever since). Making it to my next birthday seemed like an uphill battle and making it to my 18th seemed impossible.

 

I was broken:

I had so much hate for myself and my body, and so much pain that I had no outlet for, I just wanted it to end.

The pain inside kept building and building until I felt it would burst out of me. I hated myself with every fiber of my being and hurting myself seemed like the only option. There was a weight pulling me down and every time I tried to stand back up it would knock me down again.

I was told that I was selfish for wanting to die. By my guidance counselor, by my family, and even by my friends. But no one ever stopped to ask me WHY I wanted to die. They never asked me where my pain was coming from. Or why it was insurmountable.

I was hurting myself in so many ways that behind my smiles and laughs I felt dead inside, empty. I had nothing left to live for in my mind. Nothing that I looked forward to. Nothing to make me want to stay. I was standing at the edge of a cliff trying to force myself to step back.

My entire being felt broken beyond measure. I was fractured in so many places that I thought I would never be whole again. I was drowning, and I didn’t think I’d ever reach the surface.

 

My descent into madness:

In the span of a year I was sexually assaulted two separate times by two different men. I felt disgusting and like it was my fault. Like I deserved this, deserved to be used, deserved to be hurt. Maybe then I could find a reason for my pain.

I remember waking up in a puddle of my own. My arm was still bleeding, and I could barely stumble the 10 feet it took to get to the bathroom before violently puking again then passing out with my head on the toilet.

I remember thinking that this was the end. That my pain was finally over. That I no longer had to put on a brave face every day. That I would finally be at peace. But it didn’t work out that way.

When I woke up later that day I felt pain like I had never known. Emotionally and physically.

I was so close to finally not dreading every single day. So close to not feeling as though I was a burden to my loved ones. To just being free. But instead I was still caged. I just wanted this pain to end.

I was sure that I was being punished. Like I must have done something very wrong in my life to deserve this much pain, and, clearly, I deserved it.  I remember sobbing all day that day. Big, heart wrenching, ugly crying. All the pain I had been feeling for so long crashed down on me at once and I felt helpless.

Nothing and no one could save me, how could they if I couldn’t even save myself? It was this moment that I realized I needed help. That I couldn’t do this alone anymore.

 

Unseen battles:

You never would have seen my pain or knew of the battles that I was fighting by looking at me. I had mastered the art of appearing happy, but I don’t think that I even remembered what it felt like to be happy anymore.

So many people go through everyday feeling these same things, fighting these same battles. 123 people commit suicide every day in the US. This means 123 lives were lost. 123 people had no more will to fight. Nothing left to give.

There were 123 people who felt that the world would be better off without them in it. 123 stories that ended abruptly. I beg you to please look beyond the hurt of those left behind and try to imagine for one minute that pain that someone would have to be in to see ending their life as the only option.

Imagine feeling that helpless, that alone, and the broken. Then you will realize that suicide isn’t selfish. Suicide is a means to an end. A way for someone who’s pain is so big, and so deep, and so vast that no matter what they do they cannot see beyond it, to finally be at peace.

 

If you’re contemplating suicide:

Please do not be afraid to reach out for help, to anyone. I promise you that there are people in your life that care about you. That would miss you, and that would be willing to help you fight these battles.

Also remember you are:

  • Loved
  • Important
  • Beautiful
  • Needed
  • Strong
  • Safe

And most importantly:

  • You are enough

You don’t need to be anything more than who and what you are to be worthy of staying here. I know that it’s not easy and I know that there are days that you feel you just can’t go on. But I promise you that your life is worth living! Fighting isn’t easy, but I know that it is worth it. Your story is worth telling and it’s worth sticking around to find out how it ends.

 

 

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

Lifeline chat

 

Leave a comment below:

And tell me about your experiences with suicide. Have you contemplated suicide before? Have you attempted it? And if so, how did those around you make you feel about these thoughts and/or actions?

Do you know someone that died by suicide? And if so, how did that make you feel, did you find it selfish?

Let me know!

a girl made of broken pieces

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