From a young age, I dreamed of becoming a mother. I meticulously planned everything from names to nursery themes and even the timing of when I wanted to have kids. However, I never anticipated the impact that mental illness would have on my life. It wasn’t until I reached the age of 30 that I realized I struggled with multiple mental health issues.
At the time, I was married and raising three children while pursuing my dream career as a behavior therapist. Little did I know that my life was about to spiral into chaos. In June 2015, following a manic episode, I lost both my job and the opportunity to continue my education.
My diagnoses included bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and generalized anxiety disorder. Suddenly, my life became a relentless cycle of medication trials, therapy sessions, and attempts at self-care. As my mental health deteriorated, I experienced worsening paranoia, anxiety, and debilitating panic attacks. I found myself hospitalized repeatedly, retreating to my bedroom, and feeling like a mere shadow of my former self.
Throughout this tumultuous journey, my children remained by my side. When they asked about my hospital visits, I explained that I was receiving care for my brain. I shared my feelings of sadness without cause and my fears that sometimes felt overwhelming. They responded with love, crafting handmade cards and drawings for me, but they also witnessed my struggles firsthand. They saw me break down and lose my will to live.
Mental illness is a familiar foe in my family. Historical patterns show that my great-grandmother faced severe depression, which impacted her ability to care for her children. As I learned more about my family’s legacy, I recognized a troubling trend: mothers with mental health challenges often struggled to provide the care their children needed, resulting in resentment and strained relationships.
A year ago, my ex-husband reached out to discuss a significant change: our daughters were interested in attending a private school closer to his home. After months of deliberation, I made the difficult decision to allow them to live with him. This meant shifting from having them 70% of the time to just 30%. I would miss out on countless moments—homework help, comforting them through illness, and being present for milestones.
However, I also understood the importance of their well-being. They had seen too much of my struggles—my emotional breakdowns, my hospital visits, and my inability to maintain stability. I wanted them to have the childhood I had—a safe environment filled with friends and opportunities for growth, something I felt I could no longer provide.
With the new arrangement, while I miss them deeply, I also find solace in knowing they are in a nurturing environment. I can focus on my mental health, attending therapy and support groups, which ultimately benefits them. Despite my efforts, the guilt lingers, and some nights I find myself crawling into their empty beds, shedding tears over my choices.
I strive to stay involved in their lives, attending events and sending photos to maintain our bond. I hope that as they grow older, they will understand my motivations and forgive me for what I perceive as a difficult decision. I focus on creating memories when I can, valuing our time together, like indulging in Friday night pizza and cozy couch cuddles.
In retrospect, I made this choice for their sake, believing it was the best path forward for all of us.
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Summary
In this heartfelt reflection, Jessica Harper shares her journey of motherhood intertwined with the challenges of mental illness. After years of struggling with bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and anxiety, she made the difficult decision to allow her daughters to live with their father. This choice, born from a desire to provide them with stability and a nurturing environment, comes with its own emotional toll. Through her story, Jessica emphasizes the importance of prioritizing mental health for both herself and her children.
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