Mothering with Bipolar Disorder
You can’t see my bipolar disorder, but sometimes I wish you could. I’m mothering with an invisible mental illness.
In “The Pitcher,” we invite you to join us on a journey of faith and resilience that fills you up when life empties you out. Together, we can fill our hearts, knowing that there is always enough to sustain us in the divine pitcher of grace. Even as we experience mental illness, grief, and loss, we can learn to fill ourselves up with God’s word and wisdom.
Mothering with Mental Illness: In the depths of motherhood, the weight of mental illness can often feel like an insurmountable burden. Whether grappling with the complexities of bipolar disorder or wrestling with the shadows of anxiety and depression, every day is a testament to resilience. Here at “The Pitcher,” we offer a cup of solace, infused with the healing waters of faith, to nourish weary souls and guide them through the darkest of nights.
Mothering through Grief: Grief, too, has its place in the tapestry of motherhood—a silent companion that walks alongside us in our journey. From the tender ache of stillbirth to the searing pain of losing a child, our hearts bear the scars of profound loss. Yet, amid our tears, faith becomes our refuge, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. Together, we pour out our grief, knowing that in the divine pitcher of grace, healing waters await.
Self-Care: Amidst the demands of motherhood and the relentless storms of life, self-care becomes both an act of worship and a necessary balm for the soul. Here at “The Pitcher,” we explore the gentle art of nurturing ourselves, body, mind, and spirit. Through intentional practices rooted in faith, we replenish our weary souls, filling ourselves with the overflowing abundance of divine love.
You can’t see my bipolar disorder, but sometimes I wish you could. I’m mothering with an invisible mental illness.
I am reminded again and again of my grotesque scars. The more I try to be strong, the more the wounds seep. And yet, God can use my weakness–my failing–to save me and my beloved.
How has this day turned happy? I wonder to myself. How have all the tears I’ve cried added up to joy and leprechauns?
Bipolar moms are superheroes. I know we don’t look like it, usually. We’re dressed as ordinary moms, wearing our yoga pants at pick up and our baseball caps at little league games. That’s what you see on the outside. That’s how we blend in. But if you could see the battle we’re fighting each and
Mama, please listen to me: you are worth saving. You are worth fighting for. Your family is worth fighting for, and they need you to be well so they can be well. So, friend, if you are considering suicide, if you think your family might just be better off without you, this post is for you.
Dear scared out of your mind parent, Did you just come from the doctor’s office, fresh from the dark ultra sound room, with that cute little black and white picture in one hand? Did you look at your partner with the most broken, bleeding feeling you’ve ever experienced gushing out of you while trying to