House of A Writer

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️


on 24 February 2015

Trigger alert: If you’re suffering from any mental health issues pertaining to cutting or suicide. Proceed to read with caution. I discuss both in text openly. 

My life is an open book I’ve acted like I’ve had together but I really don’t. I’ve found out it takes a village to raise a child. And how lonely life can be when you don’t have a village. I’ve been open about not feeling like an adequate parent, good wife, or being a lousy friend. I have retreated into my world of words and writing, and have tried to make sense of the chaos before me. I’ve advocated for mine and my children’s mental health and have been told to hurry up and wait. Last week after an epic blow up between my oldest son and I, I put all my fears aside and phoned the mental office office. I was told to come down between the hours of 11 am to 3 pm and someone would have a meet and greet with me. 

This is how mental health is dealt with in my province. You’re set up to meet with someone who greets you and sees if you meet the criteria for obtaining services. So I went down there last Friday only to be told the Doctors aren’t seeing anymore walk ins today. That’s the worst lunch bag let down for the week. After talking my son into agreeing he does need help I leave empty handed. Today after battling with him to get up and go to school he decides not to go. I can’t deal with it after being up late myself with his brother having nightmares. I go back to bed, only to be woken up and blamed by my oldest for not going to school.

 I tell him just go eat and get dressed you’ll only be a little late. Then the fight begins that I failed him yet again, and he’s not walking into school late! I get a much anticipated call from my respite worker and I end up telling her everything that I didn’t get to tell her yesterday, with both of my children being home. My Captain (my oldest son, if you’re new to my blog) has been off for a week of school. This has been due to a teachers convention and after eight days of constant battling I NEED A BREAK. Yesterday I drive around in a new neighbourhood looking for a birthday party he was supposed to attend. I couldn’t find the location and my GPS was zero help.

 So I only had respite for a short amount of time as I had my youngest at home. I came home feeling defeated and tried to throw myself into busy ness of housekeeping so as to not start yet another arguement. There’s always something brewing on the horizon and then it came time to get ready for hockey practice. I asked my Captain to get his gear ready, while I quietly and quickly got his brother and I ready to go. We were set to leave when the comments started we’re going to be late, I wish Dad was here, I don’t want to go to hockey. I’ve been walking the thin parenting line between crazy and sane and I blew up and said get out and get your gear in the truck. He refused so I threw his bag on the lawn. Then I proceed to chase my youngest son down the block as he just wants to run away from all the noise. In the midst of my incessant parenting tantrum I lose my keys so I’m frantically looking for them.  

I find my back up set but it doesn’t allow me to lock my door with the key. Useless I know but key fobs are expensive to replace. So my crazy train is loaded up and we arrive at practice. Yes we’re five minutes late, and I just want to run away and hide somewhere. On the way home after practice I encounter a near accident as a racing truck passes five vehicles and is on coming into my lane!  I’ve got my music cranked and I’m singing Paradise by the Dashboard light. When the part of the song sung by the female lead Patti Russo comes on and says Stop right there, a voice inside my head screams the same. So I slow down and head towards the ditch just in time to see this truck fly past me and into the other lane. 

I’m literally shaking as I get home and start preparing dinner for my kids. I listen to them outside chatting while they gaze at the stars. Soon it’s bedtime and I settle in trying to process my day.  Thinking about everything crammed in my brain, it took me a long time to stop shaking and fall asleep last night. Hearing the alarm go off at 7 am after maybe four hours of sleep is like a jackhammer in my head. This morning when my son refused to go to school I said fine you don’t go to school then you go talk to a therapist. I arrive at the office only to be told they are full with walk ins. I don’t take this well at all, I complain you told me this last week and now you just opened up and your full? I have and will always be the squeaky wheel who gets the grease so I continue to triade. The receptionist sees I’m not leaving so she phones the office down the hallway to let them know I’m there.  

I walk over there with my shrieking sensory child who just wants to go home and explain I want to see someone. I’m once again told I can’t and to come back tomorrow. Well the quickest way to ignite the Irish fire inside of me is to tell me I can’t do something. This is unacceptable for urgent care should I be a cutter or slit my wrists would that get me seen faster? That line of questioning and behaviour got me seen faster than taking no for an answer. I have a therapist come to meet me who says I have a few minutes of her time. So I proceed to get my kids in the office while they play with Lego. So I tell her the quickest way to get help is to act crazy. She appears taken back at my honesty, so I spew on and say I’m an open book what do you want to know? I introduce her to my kids and proceed to tell her of the life we’re living.

 I’m told I’ve come to the right place, I’m very well versed, and educated. In another time and place had I known if I’d be walking this path to mental health, I would’ve studied to be an neurologist. Anything to do with the brain fascinates me, neurological disorders, psychiatric illness, all the labels and letters associated with mental illness.  I research about them all and I just want to know more. Being educated, articulate, well versed, helps me as an advocate for mine and my children’s mental health helps everyone. Now I walk a different journey to allowing this help to transform my family. From chaos to calm, from anger to happiness, from power struggles to peace. I’ve found the quickest way to get help is to stop acting like I have it altogether. So why do I tell you all this today? Well it’s simple I live my life like a open book, I can’t hide away from it anymore welcome to my book of life. Today I start to write a new chapter of hope, help, and resolution. I really think my guardian angel drinks if I was her I would too. Cheers to you Mom and thank you for saving our lives. ❤️

This has been my submission to Ash’s Sunday Confessions on Please check out her story, the anonymous confessions, and all the other talent who link up. Thank you for following along on my journey. ?

Today I’m linking up with for her conquer challenge for the month of February. 

16 Responses to “Open ”

  1. RennerCat says:

    Awesome. I know God did not give me children for a reason. I just don’t think I would have the strength to deal with it along with my own issues with anxiety and depression. I worked in Mental Health for 8 years and I actually sat in with a client, his overbearing mother, and the doctor. The doctor and mother spoke of him as if he was invisible. At one point I looked both him and the mother in the face and said, “he’s a human being and he has his own voice, why don’t you ask him directly instead of asking me to speak for him.” Needless to say, that boy stood up for himself after that, and that’s how I roll. I have been a patient and a teacher/advocate. I don’t see professionals anymore because I am tired of the same bs and by the book way things are done. Thank you for speaking up, your son will appreciate it one day, as did I. 🙂

    • jsackmom says:

      Oh thank you so much for the wonderful insight. I said the same thing in my son’s appointment today. I can tell you what the issues are but I won’t speak for my son. He has a voice and he should use it. The appointment went really well, because he was able to speak up for himself. I have a lot of mixed feelings about therapy for myself. I have the feeling of been there and done that. I’ll do anything to help and advocate for my children. It’s a lot to deal with in terms of my own issues, but I believe that my faith in God and the love I have for my kids will help us shine on through. ❤️

  2. 80smetalman says:

    How you managed to get through any of this at all is a miracle on its own. You deserve a sainthood for what you have had to cope with this week.

    • jsackmom says:

      Oh Mike, that’s so kind of you to say!!! It’s been a struggle but I do believe in the power of prayer and my beloved Mama cheering me on. Sometimes when I spew like that I’m afraid to hit the publish button. But with that fear to post, comes the courage to persevere. And if I can help anyone by being honest with myself, in the end that’s a gift that keeps me going. Hugs to you my dear friend. ❤️

  3. […] you so much! Sharing is daring! The hardest “ask” that has been shared was from blogger jsackmom about her courage (and persistence!) to ask for help for her children’s well-being and for […]

  4. It takes a lot of guts to be an open book, to share so honestly like what you did. I am just so proud of how persistent you are in asking for help. Your kids are fortunate to have such a strong fighter of a mom who is their advocate. All the best to the new chapter! Press on. Thank you for letting me reblog this. It is my featured story for February Courage Challenge.

    • jsackmom says:

      Oh wow thank you so much Mama you just made my day!!! I try to do my best for my children. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose but at least I tried. Thank you so much, I’m honoured to be your feature for the month. ?❤️

  5. mariaholm says:

    I can recognise what you describe here. I was mostly alone with my four children. They had all suffered from the lack of a warm of stabile father and an exhausted mother who fought like you as a lioness. Still there was always some fight and disorder difficult to deal with. It didn’t match the nice pictures of playing children on the Lego packets

    • jsackmom says:

      I get that completely Maria! That’s how I grew up as well. I always wondered why everyone always looked like they were having the best times of their lives, in the cartoons or TV shows I watched. We do the best we can with what we have. And when we know better, we do better. Being strong is the best gift I can give myself and to my children. As well as being honest when I’m feeling vulnerable and need the extra help. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and following my journey. ?

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