"It was 6 months of hell, all because I had been running away from my grief from the previous year, and had been trying my best to hold together my crumbling family. I took myself and the kids to the Dr and other support centres on so many occasions, just to try and get a referral for family therapy and counselling. I had been to occupational health to try and get counselling through work, I wasn't struggling enough...I was not depressed enough to get counselling through the NHS...and so on...everything felt out of reach and the crises that was just beginning, only got worse before my breakdown..."
Despite the challenges I have faced begun to heal from over the years, I am still surprised by the depths of recovery I am visiting even as recently as this week when researching for this incredible blogging opportunity.
When you face up to the truth of a situation, it is sometimes admitting that the choices you made really were not the best ones for all involved. This I have had to do on more occasions than I wish to remember, but in every lesson, there is learning and growth. It took me nearly two years after separation, to come to the full realisation of the truth we were all living through, all 5 of us, not just the children and me, but all of us, and the extended family friends circle too, because they were the ones holding us up when we couldn't hold up ourselves.
I still have every respect and so much love for all the people involved, because I was to blame as much as them. Sometimes it is as simple as, you are placed in an impossible situation, and the challenges you face are purely put in place for you to learn from and grow from. That we certainly have done as a family I couldn't be prouder of us all. A mismatch made in heaven to help us learn about polarised opposites and how to survive in an impossible situation whilst raising three children too! Yes, I am talking about my failed marriage and the difficulties I had afterwards to secure the support from the authorities I so desperately needed.
#mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealthmatters
Asking for help is the toughest thing to do when you are in crisis, but the most necessary as well. Throughout this last 6yrs+, I have been overwhelmed by the support, care and love that has been shown to myself and my children but nothing comes easy, and easy, it certainly was not!
The Scariest Moment is When You Admit Defeat:
Once you step over the threshold of pretending you're fine, and you hold your hands up and say 'no, I cannot do it all, I am drowning here,' avenues of help do open up. However, the strength it takes to do that, is insane, particularly when you are the one that made the choices that were the reason behind the difficulties you were having.
Some weeks, even 18 months after the separation, even 6yrs after the marriage was falling apart, I have had to pull on yet another level of inner strength, to hold my hands up and surrender to the fact that I was seriously struggling to meet my children's needs, never mind my own. Despite the help I had from my loved ones, the beautiful new relationship I had entered into a month or so previous, as well as the comparable fortunate, secure home situation we were - and still are - living in, I still was not able to cope with what I needed to cope with and I realised that was not OK.
To be vulnerable in front of authority figures, when you've been pushing through with every ounce of strength you have had, to 'cope enough,' for 12yrs, putting on the mask of 'I'm fine' when really you were constantly crumbling under the pressure, is awful to do, however far you are on your own healing journey. But, I thankfully soon realised, it wasn't a weakness, it was actually one of the strongest things I could do, to hold my hands up and let the help in.
Taking Responsibility for My Part:
I had to admit my own flaws, to figures of authority and push my innate fear of losing my children to the side and accept I couldn't do it all, because I was not superwoman.
My children needed a support network around them outside of the family, and to get that network, I had to seek professional help from various sources including the schools, social services, early help and charities that helped specifically with what we had faced over the years.
I somehow achieved this, but I had to be honest with myself, and with them. It was probably one of the most painful things I have ever had to do in my life - to relive moments from the decade previous, that I had tried to forget. I had to remember the depths of my sorrow and struggles as a mother when I had been fighting relentlessly against dwelling in the past and striving to be present and focused on only moving forwards. It was dreadful in every way, but I had to do it.
The sad thing is, before my breakdown, I had been seeking help for 10yrs previous, but because services are so stretched, I had been unable to get the support the children and I needed when we needed it most.
Allowing My Trauma to be As Bad As Other People's:
All the time I was trying to help myself and my kids, always at the back of my mind was my monkey mind torturing me, taunting me, and telling me...
"There are many families in a lot worse crises than you and the kids Anna, where parents literally cannot go on anymore, however much their kids need them to and they are a danger to themselves. Yes you have been in crisis, yes you have had times of deep dark depression and suicidal thoughts, but you have been OK. In the grand scheme of things, you have had support...you don't need the help as much as other people do so you should allow others to have it, not you...your trauma is not as bad, it is not worthy of the support you say you need, you are a weak girl!"
However, when that support you have got is still not enough, and it begins to crumble too, just like your family around you is, you have to admit defeat allow yourself the access to the help, because thankfully there ARE other options available.
THE BREAKDOWN THAT NEEDED TO HAPPEN:
In late November / early December 2019, I spent the morning psyching myself up to visit surestart.
I didn't want to go, I didn't want to see myself in a different light exposing shadows of behaviour to outsiders. I didn't want to put the blame on anybody else but myself. I didn't want to face my truth because the truth was scary...very scary. I didn't want to admit that I actually was a victim.
I didn't want to remember how embarrassed I was when a Quentin Tarrantino violent scene affected me so badly a couple of weeks previous, whilst I watched a film entitled 'Forever Love,' with my very new partner. The scene sent me out of my living room hyperventilating, crying and trembling because of the level of aggression, violence, noise and fear in that scene, which most people aren't bothered by...my partner was so worried about me, he dashed out after me to see if I was OK. He and I did not know the depths of the trauma I was carrying at that time. My reaction to the film took us both completely by surprise!
I didn't want to remember my past and the emotions of fear and anxiety I had felt in the last 10yrs pretty much daily, constantly walking on eggshells bracing myself for the next blow out. I wanted to remain present and to move forwards and be strong for my children...
I felt sick, I felt nervous, I felt scared because I was bracing myself for yet another rejection or another person saying 'I'll get back to you, I need to speak with my colleagues and see what we can do for you' or 'you're not in crisis so we cannot help you.'
I didn't want to put myself in that situation again of abandonment and unimportance. But, I had to push through that, and face it anyway. Feel the fear and do it anyway. After crying in the car between sure starts because the first one didn't have any family support workers at it, I steadied myself and calmed down. I took a deep breath and walked in.
The lady at reception desk was lovely. She asked what she could help me with. I said 'I've been advised to speak with a family support worker please.' I was fine, calm, despite breathing heavier than usual steadying myself, bracing myself for 'sorry there is nobody available.' She then asked 'what's it regarding'... I couldn't do it... I almost walked out the door, but something stopped me... I took a deep breath and I said 'long story short, my children and I are recovering from DV including emotional abuse and it's taken me 21 months to accept the situation we were in...I don't know where else to go... I've been everywhere...' tears welled, tears flowed, snot flooded, I crumbled...She led me to a seat, made me a cup of tea, and Hannah came to talk to me... A family support worker, the right person to help me and my babies, finally.
The Fight to Secure Help: To get the help we needed, we went through the mill to say the least.
BLOOD TESTS AND SCANS: Since the Spring of that year (2019), I had had test after test after test, to see if my inability to cope was related to a hormone imbalance, or illness...nothing came back. Womb scans, hormonal blood tests monthly for 6 months and nothing. I had lumps and bumps appearing in my womb, on my ovaries, my breasts, in the strangest places but in hindsight, I see it was purely because of the chronic stress I was under with our situation, that I had created indirectly. Every test I had was inconclusive and nothing gave me the support I needed physically or mentally.
I ended up putting myself back on the combined pill just to try and stabilise my moods again...Thankfully that helped a bit to stabilise me mentally, but physically, my symptoms were exacerbated. I nearly went back on anti-depressants but resisted because I had such a bad experience of them previously.
It was 6 months of challenges with my physical health, all because I had been running away from my grief from the previous year, and had been trying my best to hold together my crumbling family.
DOCTOR VISITS FOR REFERRALS FOR THERAPY: I took myself and the kids to the Dr on so many occasions, just to try and get a referral for family therapy and counselling. The most I got was a referral to occupational health at work, to try and get counselling through work but my difficulties were apparently 'too complex' for the 6wk counselling they could offer me and I needed more than that!
I had been down every route imaginable to try and secure the support we needed, to no avail because I hadn't been a danger to myself or my children, apparently - in other words, I hadn't attempted suicide or abused my children!
SURE START: In the 18 months previous to my breakdown in December 2019, I had visited surestart a few times, but because maybe I was too sure of myself and knew exactly what we needed but couldn't bring myself to admit the real truth to people, nothing came out of the family intervention I requested.
I was not 'coping' but I must have masked it far too well because again, just like the Dr's, it seemed that they were only able to help people who had actually given up, not those in the midst of crises!
RELATE: I had broken down in the reception of Relate because I was unable to attend the separated parents course because I was too late due to my daughter being late for school those mornings (almost every morning this happened) and arriving 20mins after the course started, twice, both times they could not allow me entrance onto the course. They said they'd contact me about alternatives...nearly 2months on, I had heard nothing and gave up.
MORE DOCTORS UNABLE TO REFER AND OTHER THINGS I HAD TO DO TO COPE WITH LIFE:
*I'd been referred for CBT through my GP. That was about 4 months previous to my Breakdown in December 2019...I'd heard nothing.
*I hadn't been depressed enough for counselling through the NHS.
*I had been too depressed for therapy through work,
*My case was too complex for my life coach.
*I had already been paying privately for psychotherapy since June 2018, soon after the separation in March 2018, to help me deal with my losses, which was not cheap to say the least but it wasn't the right therapy for my needs, although it did help a bit.
*I had to register as self employed just so I could get working tax credits and the children and I had enough money to survive on, because my 5hr contract at work was not enough. Because of lack of childcare, I could not work more hours so my hands were tied.
Letting the Help In:
The week I broke down in the reception of a local Sure Start children's centre, 21 months after my marriage separation, the help finally came in thick and fast to the extent it got overwhelming. We were referred to early help, based at the local children's centre I broke down in. They were to come in and help us with a family support worker coming into our home so finally, the four of us, the children and myself would have a proper team around the family outside of the direct circle. They were due to help us work on family rules, boundaries and teach us how to come together more positively.
This was the December after the summer that the anger was so strong in all of us that we were taking it out on each other, the children to me more than anything. Our family was really breaking apart and I saw it happening with my own eyes, everytime I was unable to hold space for the meltdowns my three children were having, through every physical emotional punch I received from them. These of course were directed at me, because I was their safe space. All I could do was allow them that expression of their emotions because I didn't know what else to do.
Our home was in chaos, there were barely any routines in place, I was struggling to meet the children's basic needs and if I hadn't made the first steps, social services would have soon been knocking on my door for child neglect.
The fight was insane, because everything I was doing was not showing that I was struggling in my situation. I had to be strong for my kids but in doing that, it made the fight for support even more impossible because somehow I was holding it together in the public eye!
What finally secured the help that we needed, was that my parents, the school, and I had been working tirelessly for a whole term observing the three children pinpointing where the behavioural issues had stemmed from. We were having meltdowns and behavioural issues in school for all three, and exclusions for the youngest later on.
At home was like world war three at times with explosive anger, kids lashing out at me and destroying things in the home, as well as all of us experiencing extreme anxiety and depressive episodes. I don't even remember fully how I was with the kids at this time but I think in many ways, I was absent. My kids at this stage were only 5, 9 and 10 years old and were experiencing symptoms of mental illness because in every way. they were feeling so insecure in their lives. I wasn't even able to be the security for them, because I was struggling so much myself.
They all eventually have been both unofficially and officially diagnosed with attachment disorder with ADHD and Autism between them, different things for each child, but this was the tip of the iceberg of what followed during and after lockdown! That is for another time when I write about my SEN Assessment journey!
WHERE ARE WE NOW?
Since these endless fights for support, my youngest son was given an EHCP, which has secured the support he needs until he is in his late teens. My eldest daughter will continue getting the support and psych therapy she desperately needed then because she has finally had an official diagnosis of Autism, ADHD Attachment Disorder (another blog) to help her through the difficult emotions she experienced back then. As far as I'm aware, now, all my children seem remarkably ok considering what they witnessed, lived though and experienced in their young childhood. All in all, my chidren have been my purpose, my strength and my drive to keep pushing for the life we all deserve, and never will I stop trying to provide that life for them. They truly are my whole world.
Conclusion:
To get the help in place for us, I had to meet with school, and a representative from the local authority's Social, Emotional Mental Health service after my children's centre breakdown. I had to open up about the depths of that which occurred in the home from birth. I had to be completely open and honest about how I myself disciplined the children, which wasn't always 'the correct and nicest way' according to 'modern parenting restrictions.' I nearly broke down in tears describing what happened in our home at times with the explosive anger present at times and how the children used to lash out at me. I am just glad I was able to support them through it and that I never gave up.
How I held it together for as long as I did, I have no clue, but thankfully I did because otherwise I may not be here now sharing my story in the hope that it helps others. The children are all doing so well now despite everything, I am much better than I was but healing from trauma never stops. It continues and gets easier to recognise the repeat patterns so you can change your own thought patterns but it never stops, and nor should it stop. Life is for living and learning and the lessons that bless us happen for a reason.
Strength can be found through the eyes of our children and in their innocence. All we can do as mothers and fathers and grandparents, as decent human beings, is to support each other as best we can through it all. Above all else, please remember to BE KIND! Those who appear 'fine' could just be very good at masking, like I was. The saying 'what happens behind closed doors' could not be more real. You never know what others are facing.
Thank you for reading and for your ongoing support. Sending all the love to you, and please, if anything here resonates, do get in touch and I am happy to help or point you in the direction of support and expertise that I cannot provide.
Much love and blessings,
Anna Chantal xx
