Happy Mother’s Day — Mental Health Post #4

Hello friends!

Today is the day we set aside to celebrate the amazing women that brought us into the world, as well as the women in our lives that act like mother’s to us.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of the physical mother’s out there, as well as the emotional, and spiritual mother’s. You rock!

Because of this special occasion, I decided to make today’s mental health month post about my own mom because I love her so much, and she’s been such a huge part of my journey to wellness. When I think about the people who have shaped me into who I am today, and who I feel has had the biggest impact on my life I think about approximately ten people: My paternal grandparents, my dad, a couple of friends (old and current), two specific “rock stars”, my aunt (mom’s sister), and as I believe you should save the best for last: my mom.

She’s beautiful, loving, strong, and every other positive word you can think of.

I think one of my absolute favourite things about my mom is that she’s silly and we have a lot of fun together in most situations (including our 28 hour bus ride to Nebraska in April of this year which was actually hell, but we still managed to laugh through it!)

At the same time, though, we can still have serious talks and she’s always extremely supportive. Even if we don’t agree on something (for instance, I just got tattoos. They’re not her favourites to say the least, but she didn’t disown me or anything) she’s always there for me and I don’t have to worry that she’s going to hate me and think I’m the worst child ever, even though I sometimes feel that I might be.

When I was in and out of the hospital in 2013, she was by my side basically 24/7. It wasn’t an easy time for either of us because we were both dealing with a lot of confusing emotions like guilt, and anger, and of course, depression (AKA the entire reason I was in the hospital to begin with), and I am 99% sure she must’ve wanted to tell me where I could wear my thousand dollars at least once during that period of time, but she stuck by me, even though I was unlikeable in every sense of the word at the time. I think everybody needs someone they can trust one hundred percent, and my mom became that person for me during that time, and she still is now.

I love her because she’s always encouraging me to aim for my goals, and doing whatever she can to help me reach them. With my novel, she will look things up for me, or get me out of the house when I’ve been staring at the computer screen for too many hours, or help me talk my way out of plot holes, and when it comes to my depression she’ll  often send me links and resources to help me get through it.

She always asks how I’m doing and I never feel like she’s asking just for the sake of it, like most people are. She’s always genuine, and I feel safe talking to her.

I mean it when I say that Mom helps keep me sane.

Whenever I need prayer, I know I can count on my mom (well, both of my parents, actually, but this post is about my mom!) to pray for me, and/or with me.

I’m almost nineteen years old now, and I’m a complete homebody, so I spend 90% of my time with my mom, which means that I have definitely seen her struggle, and I know she’s not perfect, but I can only hope that if I ever have children of my own, I can be half the woman my mom is.

Love you, Mom. Thank you for putting up with me.