For the sons and daughters living with a mentally ill parent
I know that I want to write something on this topic because it’s extremely close to home. However, I’m not entirely sure how it’s going to go; poetry is usually my safest route and what I feel most comfortable with writing but I feel as if a poem would be too rhythmic for such an unmethodical, chaotic story. So I’m just going to put my pen to the paper and see what happens.
I have lived around mental health illnesses ever since I was a young girl; I was never really kept in the dark about how experiences and tragedies that happen in people’s lives can manifest into something mentally harmful and traumatic. Actually, not just mentally, but also physically. I have witnessed alcohol and drug abuse from quite early on in my life. It is a frightening and heartbreaking thing to watch unfold, especially when it happens to someone that you love. People will drink to forget and this can slowly and very unfortunately turn into a fully-blown drinking problem.
This was the case with my dad. A large amount of my memories from being a little girl involved alcohol somewhere a long the lines, it seemed to be a common occurrence. I remember being taken to the pub at the bottom of our road after school by my dad and I would sit and watch him drink. I was told not to tell. Mum and dad would fight. He would promise us all that it would stop, then to find empty cans hidden around the house. He would sneak out at night. I would stay awake sweating with anxiety until the early hours of the morning, eyes fixed outside my bedroom window, waiting for my dad to return home safely. He would crawl up the road, drunk as anything, find his way into the house and pass out on the sofa. I remember having to leave social situations with my mother and sister early due to my dad being too intoxicated. There have been points in my life that I’ve feared my mum would walk away, there have been times that I thought my dad would get hospitalised, I’ve seen my father arrested. I would be here all day if I were to write down every time something tragic has happened due to drink. Alcohol can change people in unimaginable ways.
These experiences aside, underneath the drunken confusion and downright scary person my father could show himself to be, he absolutely adored me. Of course, he still does, as I will always adore him and always have. He adored Emily and he adored my mother. We were, I remember well, a pretty tight unit and the closest thing he has ever had to a stable family. Now, there are certain things that will be left unsaid out of respect to my dad and his siblings and I will spare the quite frankly horrific details, but what you must know is that dad didn’t have a normal upbringing (to put simply.) It was full of lies, crime and every type of abuse that you could possibly think of. My dad did not have the safe upbringing that every single child on this planet needs and was the victim of horrific abuse that I struggle to think about let alone write about. My dad felt blessed for having “his girls” and he would remind us a lot. We knew this, we understood that he was a broken man and we were there to help mend him.
Dad left in 2016. I was about to leave to go to work when I was told that he was moving in with another woman. That’s all that I can really recall of that day because it was an extremely blurry evening which continued to be an extremely blurry, numb two years. It truly changed everything and left me wondering why and what we had done wrong. It affected me in ways that I wasn’t expecting and, for a while, I felt as if I had lost myself. You also find yourself wondering if you’re good enough for anyone. Very suddenly, I started acting completely out of character; I became reckless and thoughtless with my actions, I would seek attention in the wrong places, I would break peoples hearts and just overall be no good to anyone. My self esteem and self respect hit an all-time low and it has took me up until quite recently to realise the reasons behind these careless actions. I didn’t think I was worthy of anyone’s love or affection so I would treat myself like dirt. It is heartbreaking for me to look back and see how badly I treated myself, but I am trying to view it as a learning curve. I was trying to find ways to cope with feelings that I didn’t actually fully understand and I guess, in a way, I was crying for help.
A couple of years later and things continue to be up and down; my dad will always have to live with his mental illnesses but I am finally beginning to learn that not everything has to be all doom and gloom. Of course, there are days and nights where I will sit in my own tears, making myself physically sick just from anxiety and fear from wondering what will become of things. I wonder if my father is safe, I wonder how much alcohol he’s consuming, I worry when he’s alone, I worry about everything. But there are days I spend with him that are beautiful and fill me with so much joy. I adore spending time with him on his “good days” and I keep these, a long side all of the many other fond memories with him, very close to my heart. That is where they will stay. I never know when I will get a glimmer of the man we all know and love but I will always remain hopeful.
Feeling like a parent to your own parent can be daunting. My biggest advice to the children of parents with a mental illness would be to speak. Use your voice wherever and whenever you can. I spent such a long time keeping quiet about all of this and what was going on inside my head because I didn’t want to bother anyone with my issues. “My family, my responsibility” is what I always thought but this simply isn’t the case. There are people out there who will listen, understand and help - making family members and friends more aware of the situation is extremely helpful but professional help is there for the taking too, it’s just finding the courage to make the first move. This first step to asking for guidance can be tough and you can almost feel defeated or even embarrassed because you feel like you couldn’t support your own family but, by reaching out for a helping hand, you’re doing exactly that. Don’t let yourself feel as if you’re 100% responsible for fixing the person that you care for so dearly, you can only provide your support and unconditional love. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink. Learn to accept what is reality, be kind to yourself, have faith that circumstances will change and don’t stop focussing on your own life.
Don’t light yourself on fire trying to brighten someone else’s existence.
I have lived around mental health illnesses ever since I was a young girl; I was never really kept in the dark about how experiences and tragedies that happen in people’s lives can manifest into something mentally harmful and traumatic. Actually, not just mentally, but also physically. I have witnessed alcohol and drug abuse from quite early on in my life. It is a frightening and heartbreaking thing to watch unfold, especially when it happens to someone that you love. People will drink to forget and this can slowly and very unfortunately turn into a fully-blown drinking problem.
This was the case with my dad. A large amount of my memories from being a little girl involved alcohol somewhere a long the lines, it seemed to be a common occurrence. I remember being taken to the pub at the bottom of our road after school by my dad and I would sit and watch him drink. I was told not to tell. Mum and dad would fight. He would promise us all that it would stop, then to find empty cans hidden around the house. He would sneak out at night. I would stay awake sweating with anxiety until the early hours of the morning, eyes fixed outside my bedroom window, waiting for my dad to return home safely. He would crawl up the road, drunk as anything, find his way into the house and pass out on the sofa. I remember having to leave social situations with my mother and sister early due to my dad being too intoxicated. There have been points in my life that I’ve feared my mum would walk away, there have been times that I thought my dad would get hospitalised, I’ve seen my father arrested. I would be here all day if I were to write down every time something tragic has happened due to drink. Alcohol can change people in unimaginable ways.
These experiences aside, underneath the drunken confusion and downright scary person my father could show himself to be, he absolutely adored me. Of course, he still does, as I will always adore him and always have. He adored Emily and he adored my mother. We were, I remember well, a pretty tight unit and the closest thing he has ever had to a stable family. Now, there are certain things that will be left unsaid out of respect to my dad and his siblings and I will spare the quite frankly horrific details, but what you must know is that dad didn’t have a normal upbringing (to put simply.) It was full of lies, crime and every type of abuse that you could possibly think of. My dad did not have the safe upbringing that every single child on this planet needs and was the victim of horrific abuse that I struggle to think about let alone write about. My dad felt blessed for having “his girls” and he would remind us a lot. We knew this, we understood that he was a broken man and we were there to help mend him.
Dad left in 2016. I was about to leave to go to work when I was told that he was moving in with another woman. That’s all that I can really recall of that day because it was an extremely blurry evening which continued to be an extremely blurry, numb two years. It truly changed everything and left me wondering why and what we had done wrong. It affected me in ways that I wasn’t expecting and, for a while, I felt as if I had lost myself. You also find yourself wondering if you’re good enough for anyone. Very suddenly, I started acting completely out of character; I became reckless and thoughtless with my actions, I would seek attention in the wrong places, I would break peoples hearts and just overall be no good to anyone. My self esteem and self respect hit an all-time low and it has took me up until quite recently to realise the reasons behind these careless actions. I didn’t think I was worthy of anyone’s love or affection so I would treat myself like dirt. It is heartbreaking for me to look back and see how badly I treated myself, but I am trying to view it as a learning curve. I was trying to find ways to cope with feelings that I didn’t actually fully understand and I guess, in a way, I was crying for help.
A couple of years later and things continue to be up and down; my dad will always have to live with his mental illnesses but I am finally beginning to learn that not everything has to be all doom and gloom. Of course, there are days and nights where I will sit in my own tears, making myself physically sick just from anxiety and fear from wondering what will become of things. I wonder if my father is safe, I wonder how much alcohol he’s consuming, I worry when he’s alone, I worry about everything. But there are days I spend with him that are beautiful and fill me with so much joy. I adore spending time with him on his “good days” and I keep these, a long side all of the many other fond memories with him, very close to my heart. That is where they will stay. I never know when I will get a glimmer of the man we all know and love but I will always remain hopeful.
Feeling like a parent to your own parent can be daunting. My biggest advice to the children of parents with a mental illness would be to speak. Use your voice wherever and whenever you can. I spent such a long time keeping quiet about all of this and what was going on inside my head because I didn’t want to bother anyone with my issues. “My family, my responsibility” is what I always thought but this simply isn’t the case. There are people out there who will listen, understand and help - making family members and friends more aware of the situation is extremely helpful but professional help is there for the taking too, it’s just finding the courage to make the first move. This first step to asking for guidance can be tough and you can almost feel defeated or even embarrassed because you feel like you couldn’t support your own family but, by reaching out for a helping hand, you’re doing exactly that. Don’t let yourself feel as if you’re 100% responsible for fixing the person that you care for so dearly, you can only provide your support and unconditional love. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink. Learn to accept what is reality, be kind to yourself, have faith that circumstances will change and don’t stop focussing on your own life.
Don’t light yourself on fire trying to brighten someone else’s existence.
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