So, I stated this blog with such high hopes at the start of the year, and I kept up with it for a little bit. However, life happened. Now things are getting much better and I am feeling well enough to start blogging again.

My daughter was born a micropreemie, and it’s been a hard six months since she’s gotten home, but we’ve turned the corner. No more oxygen, no more wires, and we only have bi-weekly physical therapy. For a baby born weighing less than 2 pounds at 26 weeks, she’s a bona-fide miracle, regardless of faith.

My husband’s ex wife has stopped torturing the kids for her loss of custody, and things are getting better in that arena. I still haven’t adjusted to my move across the state, and honestly don’t have any friends in this area.

My grandfather, who essentially was my father, passed away unexpectedly 35 days ago. I’m still hurting from that, and while it’s getting easier and I’m crying less often, I’m still raw. I don’t think i’ll ever be completely over it, but I’m getting to where I can function.

All of these things, combined with my Multiple Sclerosis, and some other stuff, took a toll mentally. It’s only been in the last three months where i’ve been able to progress, and then when my grandfather died, well, i backslid some.

I guess the reason why I’m writing this is one, I have a few of you that follow me, but also, maybe, someone out there might be going through this and it’s nice to know that we’re not alone when we’re facing this monster.

Post-partum depression and depression are all too real for so many of us, regardless if we’re goth or not. It takes so much out of you. The only thing that has been keeping me going is the fact that I have a helpless baby that I need to take care of.

The reason why I’m sitting here right now, instead of in the hospital again, or dead, is because of that friend who made an eight hour drive to see me. Then, they badgered my husband into helping me navigate this current crisis. My daughter’s pediatrician also confronted me during one of her well visits. Apparently, I wasn’t hiding the crazy as much as I thought.

I know that the openness that we speak about mental health and suicide are helping countless people – but I also know that there’s so many of us who suffer things beyond the “okay” illnesses that are terrified to say anything. We’ve been hospitalized and forced to take meds and had our independence revoked – we’re not going to tell you that the voices are back, or that we’re seeing things.

One thing that I’d like to do is be able to talk frankly about living life with mental illness – outside of the confines of a sanitized, clinical environment. I love sites like “The Mighty” but I don’t feel that it really reflects actual life.

So, every couple of weeks, since this is a “life and lifestyle” blog, I’ll be discussing, very frankly, what it’s like to live with schizoaffective disorder -> and really LIVE with it. While this isn’t my life, it does play a part in how my marriage works, how I parent, and how I interact with the world.

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