Tonight I realised just how much Kyd really does take in and it really made me think about a lot of things that have happened in the past.
Along with most of the female population of the country tonight, I cried at Pat dying on Eastenders and although he wasn't watching it and was getting ready for bed, as he came in and saw me crying he began to well up and became very quiet. He's always been sensitive and he hates it when others cry, old or young, but I've always put it down to his sensitive manner. Tonight I realised it's really not that.
I spent years suffering from depression, most of Kyd's life in fact, and most nights I would sit and cuddle him in floods of tears just asking God 'why me?'. I know this is a general reaction to a diagnosis according to the professionals but I really really struggled. I have also been through some rough times with ex partners and again would sit in tears and sometimes him being there amongst the shouting was out of my hands... that's another story though. I would generally only cry when he was in bed and I tried so hard to keep the ex at bay when he was around, but I often had to settle him back to bed after he woke, when I was in a state myself leaving him seeing me in a state. He must have sat there night after night listening to me cry... no wonder he wasn't settled.
I never thought about it really until now. It was life and that is how it was at the time and although I tried my hardest to keep him safe physically, I fear I have failed him mentally by subjecting him to the heights of Post Natal Depression.
He saw too much and he heard too much and as a result he himself is an emotional wreck. If he sees me cry he cries himself. I fear it takes him back to the days that it was just him and me and that he suffered through my depression with me.
Tonight as he headed off to bed and gave me a kiss he hung on so tight. He welled up as he got in to bed and when Hoff came downstairs and told me, I went upstairs to settle him. He wasn't crying but as soon as I asked if he was OK he broke down. My heart hit my throat and my eyes welled up. I fought back the tears and held him tightly. I asked what was wrong and he just said my name. I explained that I was OK and that I was just being silly and sometimes grown ups cry over the TV because they're silly. He calmed down and I asked him if he was OK again and he shook his head. This broke my heart, there was obviously something else wrong and his lack of speech was holding it back from me understanding. He looked so sad. He looked scared almost. I said to him that life was different now and went on to list some amazing things that have happened and asked him if he was happy in his new house? He said yes and I asked him what he liked... he went quiet and then babbled a list out as long as my arm. I had to explain that life sometimes makes you sad but if he was ever sad he had to tell me. We had a joke and a kiss and we ended with a smile, a love you and a wink.
The scary thing is is that I have no idea what he took from that as I have no real understanding of what he really understands because he can't tell me. He is 9 years old and he saw more in his first 6 years than most adults in their 40s have in their whole lives...
I have the most horrid feeling inside like I've let him down and I can't help but kick myself. If I could do it all over again I'd do so much differently... but I can't so I now have to try and work on repairing what damage has been caused and now I'm aware and in a position to do it, I'll fix it even if it kills me.
If you are reading this and suffering in silence yourself.... get help, It's not just you that will struggle in the long run, children take more in than you think. Do it for them if you can't do it for yourself.