Mommy's Story: I once was a small girl with numerous questions regarding why my mother was so distraught much of the time. Why did her and my father yell so often? At the time I was far too young to put these curiosities into my own words. It all made the idea of mental illness a confusing subject for me as I grew into my own role as a mother with a malfunctioning brain. Should I keep it under wraps or ignore it like my parents did?

There is a stigma on medications and whether mental illness is simply a weakness of mind, a laziness, a lack of motivation. Why can’t you just pray, write, meditate, exercise, eat better? Use those positive affirmations and it will all be just fine! All of these resources are well and fine, even needed in combination with other forms of mental health care. I am also not the woman who believes that all medicines are safe for all people, nor that all of those who struggle with depression need medicine. I just know that I do.

The topic of parents taking psychiatric medications is even more taboo. Isn’t a mom who is on medication zombified, half awake, not really quite able to do her job right? Is she abusing it, is she high? Is it bad parenting for me to explain my anxiety and grief to my daughter on a level which she can understand, even relate to, to help her express her own feelings and fears? Am I not correcting the issue of having many unanswered worries of my own as a child?

So, I decided to put my feet into the little hot pink sneakers of my own five year old daughter’s. I thought perhaps a different view on the topic could help bring more understanding as to what medication (used properly and under supervision of a psychiatrist) can do to better not only a person’s own life, but the lives of those closest to them; those most affected by them.

As children being formed and built into the adults they will be one day, it’s important for them to be able to be open with their parents and to know that if it one day should happen in their own lives, it’s okay. Children of parents and grandparents of mental illnesses, as well as those with exposure to death and loss early on, are more predisposed to endure these struggles themselves. These things can begin in the mind far younger than some of us may realize. So it’s necessary to answer and ask the right questions, based upon age and maturity level. Don’t ever be dishonest or secretive or let them wonder whether it’s their fault or not.

And so welcome to a day in the fictional head of my own daughter…

I AM FIVE YEARS OLD.

I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I see mommy’s got her head in her hands and her legs are shaking very fast. She looks scared or sick, maybe she saw a bug or something?

I know! I’ll give her a big hug and play with her hair and she’ll feel all better. Maybe I should color her a picture of a flower, too. Those always make her smile and kiss my cheek, so I know she’s okay.

Well, I did my best, and she smiled. I can tell she is still sad, though. Mommy says it’s just something called anxiety, and that it means you’re stressed out, which I kind of understand because grown-ups say things around me. Maybe they don’t know I’m listening, but I am. I am the only kid around mostly, except for a baby and she’s boring. I think that maybe I have anxiety, too, sometimes. I’ve seen a lot of sad things happen, and I know my mommy is sad about a lot

She is calming down now, she took some kind of medicine that she said helps her when she has stress. I know it does help her, because I’ve seen it. It helps like when I get itchy eyes and a sore throat and she gives me benadryl. Sometimes I thank God for those medicines that she takes, because she’s so sad and scared without them.

I’m glad she never talks to me like I’m a baby and that she explains the things I don’t understand on my own, because then I understand my head better. Plus, it’s easier to tell her stuff that scares me this way. I’m glad some mommies can tell the truth that they get scared or sad or mad easily sometimes, and not just kids. I’m glad to be a “very intelligent five year old”, too, because it means I understand things that I guess other five year olds don’t.

My mommy’s sister died, and my daddy did, too, so that makes me stressed. It makes mommy VERY upset when she talks about them to anyone.

I get angry and sad and scared. I worry that someone else might go to heaven and I’ll never see them again. It’s hard for me to meet new people because I don’t trust them anymore. Mommy doesn’t seem to trust a lot of people eithe. She’s not as shy as I am, but I think people make her nervous, too. She tells me I’m brave, and I want to be brave, but I also want her to be brave. I think she’s kind of brave and kind of afraid.

I see how hard it is for her. She’s had bad things happen and I know about how grown-ups feel things different than kids. Mostly it’s ’cause we don’t fully understand everything happening. I guess we are something called “resilient”. I heard mommy’s counselor tell her that one time. Her counselor is very nice, and I think maybe I’ll want one when I’m big. Mommy says he’s a person she can trust to tell anything in the world to, and he helps her feel better. I can see how she’s happier when she comes back. I like having someone I can always tell anything to, so it’s a good thing I have my mommy.

She doesn’t lie to me or pretend she is happy when she isn’t, but I know my sister and me are the only ones who make her really the happiest because she only smiles all the way up to her eyes for us two. I also know it is not our fault she gets so frustrated about life because she promises me that all of the time. I think if mommy didn’t have that medicine or counselor she would probably be much sadder.

Maybe then she couldn’t play with me or read me books or teach my baby sister new words and games or whatever. I think it helps her to wake up good in the morning, because she’s cranky before she has that medicine and some coffee. I don’t want her to be cranky, so I’m happy that it helps her stop fast.

I think that a lot of people don’t know what it feels like to be a kid who’s mommy needs to do stuff like take medicine, or has lots of scars that she tells me came from an accident when she was a kid. I’m not sure I believe her about that one thing, because she doesn’t lie to me much and I can tell from her eyes that she isn’t telling me something. Oh well, she will when I am bigger I think.

I wonder if a lot of other kids have mommies that have anxiety or sadness.

I hope if they do, they have mommies who do good things to get all better like mine. They should take those medicines and have something called a counselor. If they don’t then they’re probably very sad kids because if my mommy was sad or scared ALL of the time, I would be, too, you know.