A Bridge Between Worlds

I'm unwell with Covid. Four of the children have Covid and are all recovering well. The youngest has been very hard work. She bounced back rather quickly from Covid and only has residual effects. Me on the other hand, I am struggling. I was already exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally, before Covid decided to take residence in my body. I'm fatigued, lethargic. Short of breath. I'm grief stricken. It's Mother's Day here in Australia today. It feels wrong that Mum is not here. I would have spent some time with her today at the nursing home. Probably see my Dad and my brother too. Instead I'm home with Covid and I feel like I'm dying. I've barely been able to truly rest during the day. Laying down, yes. But when a 5 year old wants to play, eat and bounce, there's not much peace in that. The older children have done their best to help, but they are both getting over Covid too. It's also my parents wedding anniversary today. They never made it to their 51st year together. And it is also my ex's birthday today. My struggle when I'm unwell, is that I often wish he was here. For comfort and assistance. It's when I miss him the most. I'm not sure if it's a bad thing, a good thing, if it means anything, if it is just a natural thing after being with someone for so many years. Or if it is what it is. Just grief for all the things. Lately, I haven't been doing so well mentally. I have been feeling a bit out of control and overwhelmed by life. Panic attacks are becoming more frequent. Disordered thinking episodes. I spoke to my psychologist on the phone this past week and I said, " I don't know what is mental illness and what is grief anymore". I know that being suicidal is dreadful. I don't want to do that to my kids. But I feel like that big black monster is stirring again, getting ready to chase me. How can you do the right thing, when your mind goes wrong? My catch phrase in 2019 was "I'm not right". Something had gone wrong in my mind, perhaps in my body. I was given medication that helped and some hindered. But I got stable. I've had to use antipsychotics to get me through the last month. To keep me safe. Some may say that's a sign of failure. A failed mind. But it's not. I succeeded in keeping myself safe. If that means medication on and off, then that's what I will do. Yet, I feel like I'm walking on a tightrope, standing on a burning bridge with no choice but to jump off. And no one is there to catch me this time. Desperately sad and yearning for comfort. Love keeps me here and there. Tethered to my parents and my babies who didn't make it. A bridge between worlds. I miss them. I miss my old life.

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Hello my name is Léyanie and 5 weeks ago I was suicidal. Worse than that even, I was panicking and suicidal. And I completely felt unhinged from reality. I wasn't technically psychotic. I had insight into my behaviour and my thinking being terribly wrong and frightening, and uncharacteristic of myself, but I was terrified that I could have easily tipped over to the psychotic and done something dreadful to myself. I required immediate assistance and intervention, I was resigned to the fact that I was probably going to be hospitalized, but I am lucky to have a great doctor and she prescribed medication that helped and I spent a week with my Dad. My family dropped their lives to support me as best they could. My sister was key in that intervention, bundling me up and taking me to my doctor and then dropping me off at Dad's. She checked in everyday with me, as did my great friends, and I am so very thankful for that. What you may not know about this story is that prior to my breakd...

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Life, the Universe and the Melancholic

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