What will I tell my daughter when she’s old enough to start asking? Or when I feel she’s old enough and needs to know?

I imagine this day in my head quite often. I’m very open about my mental health. I always have been really, but even more so since my attempt. So there aren’t any secrets. Ask me any questions and I’ll answer it with sincere brutality.

Do I tell her, “Mommy is Suicidal”? Do I tell her, “Mommy has demons she fights everyday”? Do I tell her, “Mommy sometimes questions if she should keep going”? “Mommy has depression, Mommy has anxiety, Mommy has PTSD, Mommy is……TWISTED!

I have explained on more than one occasion what Mental Health is in general and why it matters. She knows it is extremely important to take care of your brain just like it is important to take care of your heart. She knows Mommy takes pills everyday for her brain. She knows Mommy had to go to the hospital to work on her brain a little bit. She knows when Mommy gets really upset easily, she doesn’t mean it…it’s just her anxiety and brain fighting with her. She knows I struggle with talking to people I don’t know. I’ve had to explain that to her when I don’t just easily go up to someone I don’t know and talk to them. She knows that I go to therapy to help with my brain. She also knows that the stomach ache she gets when she’s about to do something new and scary, or talk with someone she doesn’t know, or be around someone she hasn’t been around in a long time, most likely is her little anxiety inside her. She knows to take deep, slow breathes to calm herself. She knows it’s just her body sounding an alarm, but she can outsmart it. She knows how important emotions are. All of them. She knows that no matter what anyone tells her, it is always ok to express and talk about those emotions. She knows that if she’s ever having any problems, or feeling down that she can always come to me or her Daddy, no matter what.

She doesn’t know that Mommy tried to end her life. She doesn’t know that Mommy, on many, many days, wanted nothing more than to leave this earth. She doesn’t know that Mommy hears voices sometimes and that those voices are evil and terrifying. She doesn’t know that Mommy has felt so worthless that she felt it best she were no longer around to hurt her any longer. She doesn’t know that Mommy is forever so sorry for what she’s done. She doesn’t know that Mommy sometimes worries that it will happen again. She doesn’t know that Mommy worries that she, as my daughter, will eventually have the same thoughts and feelings. She doesn’t know that most days Mommy needs an “escape” from life. She doesn’t know that everyday is a struggle for Mommy and sometimes those thoughts come creeping back in.

When will be the time to fill her in on all the things she doesn’t know? How will it affect her? Will she still know that Mommy is ok and still here for her no matter what? Will she no longer have any faith in Mommy and forever think she is unstable and “crazy”? Will she walk on egg shells her entire life? Afraid to do or say anything that will send Mommy over the edge again? Will she blame herself?

Will I miss the time to tell her what she doesn’t know and instead she’ll hear about it from a friend at school, parent of a friend, or somehow find this blog?

So many questions. Maybe one day I’ll have the answers. Right now, I’ll continue to squeeze her tight and keep an open line of communication. I’ll try and protect her innocence as long as I can and I’ll know when the time is right. And then, she’ll know.

I do feel that the time to have this hard discussion with her is coming. She’s a very smart little girl and the world we know now is not the world I knew when I was her age. Maybe the question I need to ask myself is this: Who would I rather she discuss such a difficult subject with? Her family, friends, the media? It’s everywhere. And she is a sponge.

-Sincerely Brutal