I have a dog named Agnes. She's an enormous German Shepherd who thinks she weighs about 5 pounds. I think she has hidden wings though, making her my guardian angel. So much has happened in the past year, and she's the one who's been there the whole time to comfort me. But first, let me go back to where I left off....
I don't necessarily feel compelled to go into great detail about the hospital stays that I had. There were a lot of day programs I attended once I was cleared to come home from whichever hospital I was leaving. A lot of the difficulty was that my symptoms were so severe that the doctors over-medicated me just to knock me out. There were times that I would sleep all day except for the rare two-hour awake period when I was able to hold my head up.
Then, for the first time, they got the mix right, and I was beginning to feel like a semi-normal person. I was given clearance to drive, I wasn't halucinating nearly as much as I was. I attended massage therapy school and graduated. I worked for a little while as a therapist and loved it. Then it hit again, like it did every time. As a side bar, people who have mental illness who take their medication still have lapses in their disease. That is what frustrates me most about my illness. Even when I did exactly as I was ordered by doctor, I would so frequently have to have my meds adjusted. It was only then that I realized that this illness was not my fault. I used to think I had done something terribly wrong, or that God hated me and just wanted to screw with my life. It's still hard to understand a lot of the time, but it's not my fault. Sometimes I have to repeat that to myself.
Onward we trudge. Whiile I was in school, on disability and pretty much single (except for the random guy I dated for 5 minutes), I got pregnant. I was equally terrified as I was exctatic. The "father" became extremely verbally abusive and wanted me to abort. So, I broke up with him and haven't seen him since, thank goodness. But, I knew the minute I left the relationship, I would have to be completely dependent on family to help raise my child. I can't tell you how amazed I was at the amount of support and prayers my family poured into my daughter and me. And I will never be able to thank them nearly enough what they deserve. My daughter and I were able to stay in our hometown until she was 2. Then we had to move near my parents. I had started halucinating again. I was depressed and dillusional so much of the time, that I wasn't able to effectively care for her. I'm so grateful that I didn't know then what time would bring to my relatonship with my daughter.
I would have my good days and my bad days. You might say,' well, that's what everybody's life is like'. I so wish that were true. But my highs and my lows were worlds apart from each other, and I had to have my parents keep her sometimes because I simply could not care for her. Talk about blaming yourself and feeling like the worst mom in the world.
This past episode lasted over 6 months, and my baby was with my parents that long, and she'd come over to play, but I noticed this time that she was trying to take care of me. I had to keep explaining that it's mommy's job to take care of baby...not the other way around. It broke my heart that I wasn't giving her a stable childhood. I knew how unstable mine was, and how much I've had to recover from as an adult. I did NOT want that for her. I cried, pulled my guts out, and cried some more. I didn't know what to do, but I knew it had to be something other than this. So, I called my oldest brother if he would think and pray about adopting my sweet baby whome I love with every inch of my being. Several months later, we all agreed that it had to happen. The switch had to be made before she was permanatly scarred.
So, she moved in with them, and the adoption is almost final. I think my eyes stay puffy from crying so much. My heart is out of my body and lives about an hour and a half away. It aches and is so angry. I hate mental illness. I hate my brain. I don't understand why I am the way I am. I don't understand why I would be given t his precious, amazing child, and then all of a sudden not be her main parent. They're doing an amazing job with her, and she's really happy and well-adjusted. It's like my mom said, "she's doing well....now all we have to do is get you well".
As a result, I live by myself. I had to change her bedroom because I would just stand there and sob as i passed her room. So I made it into my art studio.. I'm turning the play room into a yoga/meditation room. I'm trying to move forward, but sometimes I feel like it's one foot forward, three or four back. This is where Agnes comes in. For some reason, Agnes is my major comfort while I'm at home, lonely. She can hear me cry from the other end of the house and she comes in and starts licking me. She'll jump up in the bed and snuggle with me. That's why I say she's my number one angel. I don't know what I'd do without her. I'll have to see if I can figure out how to post a picture of her. i wish for all of you that you can have your very own Agnes. Life is extremely hard right now, but I've had to do something only a mother can do. I want her to have a good life where she's cared for and loved well, and that's where she is. Please just pray that things get easier.
In closing, Agnes, the Wonder Dog, I luuuuuv you and am so glad you're mine :)
