As a child, I grappled with the heavy burden of my mother’s depression that lingered long after my parents’ divorce. I often felt as though I was to blame, convinced that I could have done something to ease her pain. Now, as I navigate my own mental health challenges, I find myself reflecting on how to communicate these struggles to my son. With his third birthday approaching, I felt compelled to pen a letter that he can read when he’s older.
To my beloved child:
One day, you’ll grow up and start to notice how I react when people say unkind things to you. You may question my reluctance to let you ride your bike to a friend’s house or my habit of asking about your day and emotions. It might seem strange to you that I spend so much time cleaning the house or become upset with your dad for something seemingly trivial, like forgetting to pick up groceries. You might even wonder why I tear up every year as you unwrap your birthday gifts.
There will be moments when I confront teachers or other parents about their actions, even if you didn’t notice anything wrong. You may ask why I wake up early on Saturdays to enjoy some quiet time alone or why I sometimes mix up your name with the dogs’ names before getting it right. It may appear as if I’m lost in thought, and you might be tempted to check if I’m okay.
You’ll come to realize how much I’ve worried about financial stability—not just for college or a wedding, but for emergencies that might arise. The anxiety stemming from uncertainty can be overwhelming. Over time, you may notice my mood swings and connect them to the days when I forget to take my medication.
If you ever find me awake at night, watching over you, please don’t be alarmed. It’s a moment I cherish, feeling the urge to protect you while knowing you’re safe. The world can be a scary place, and the thought of losing you terrifies me. Although these fears may seem irrational, I must trust in a higher power to guide us.
Every night, I express my gratitude for having you in my life, seeking strength to be the best mother I can be. My love for you is immense, but I am aware that my battles with bipolar disorder can occasionally cloud my judgment. I fear that I may lose my temper or become fixated on trivial matters, reacting in ways that might confuse you.
When you’re in your own world and start to feel responsible for my mood swings, remember that it’s not your fault. Nothing you could ever do would lessen my love for you. The bond between us is powerful, but some mothers face greater challenges in managing their emotions. If my behavior ever causes you distress, please understand that it’s me, not you.
You are perfect just as you are. My struggles with anxiety, mood fluctuations, and other difficult feelings may sometimes overshadow my ability to be the mom you deserve. My desire is to practice self-control daily so that I can be the loving and nurturing mother you need.
I apologize in advance for the days I may falter and hope you remember that my struggles are mine to bear.
If you’re curious about how to navigate motherhood while dealing with mental health, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and donor insemination. For additional insights on family planning, you might also find this guide on home insemination kits helpful. It’s important to explore all avenues as you grow.
In summary, my son, I hope you come to understand that my struggles with depression are part of who I am, but they do not define my love for you. I am committed to being the best version of myself for you, even on days when it’s difficult.