My life behind the squares – Part 1

I have been thinking for so long, going back an forth. On one hand I really felt a need to share something about life behind the squares with everyone around me.. on the other I didn’t feel it was right for my family, my kids.. especially now that everything is still so unknown for us.

But then I got to think.. what if there’s someone else out there going through something like this? Like us. Like me. Feeling what I feel like a lot of days?

..Like a crappy mum and wife, lonely, lost, scared, worried, frustrated and somehow so far from the person I thought I could be.

And really, I would never say or do anything to hurt my family! This is in no way an attempt to put them out there for people to use it agains them. But I also want awareness, to be able to talk openly with them and everyone else we meet during our everyday and our life. To be able to tell others in similar situations that they are not alone. And maybe even find someone who’s a little further along this journey than we are right now to talk to.

The beginning

I’m not sure I can pick a time where this started, but I know when diagnoses became an official part of our lifes for the first time.

It was back in 2016. I was pregnant with Alfred. We got word that a 12 year old family member was admitted with a mental breakdown. It was a horrible time for both her and her close family and it touched everyone in our family very deeply. For almost at year she was admitted before she was finally diagnosed with autism.

12 years. It wasn’t like her parents didn’t tryed to do something in those 12 years, they did! But noone did anything, because noone seemed to think anything was wrong. She is such a bright and clever person, and she had gone through life trying to copy everyone around her. That’s how she got through it all that time, and noone looked close enough to see through it.

She was released to get her diagnose, she could finally relax and just be the beautiful person she’d always been underneath the mask.

I think this experience was what put the first serious seeds in my husbands mind to get some answers. His entire life he had been called nicknames refering to actual diagnoses, I’m sure they didn’t mean anything by it, but to him it did, because it struck a nerve. He felt different and somewhere deep down he kept wondering if there might be a reason. How can you know if you are normal when all you really know is your own percepton of the world?

When Ellie was born things started to escalate for my husband. He was so stressed and he got worse and worse. I kept trying to talk to him about the fact that men actually have post partum depressions as well as women. He refused but he felt that he wasn’t well and after a while he went to his doctor amd explined everything. She send him to a psychiatrist and he started to meet with him very often. One day he came home and asked me to write one page about what I thought was different about him than other people. I just looked at him like ‘what???’.. I mean.. what!!! His psychiatrist that I never met asked me to write something about my husband for him to use. My husband told me he didn’t had to see it, but I couldn’t do that. That would only make it feel even more awkward. But it was a hard thing to be asked as a wife, it felt like a betrayal, but I knew it was for his best.. So I did it, I wrote it. Said some things I never had the heart and courage to tell him before. And it hurt. He acted angry, but I knew it hurt. And I felt so powerless to help or do anything for him.

A few weeks later I was out on a little walk with the kids. Then my husband called me…

To be continued….

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