We have been blessed to have Cass write a guest blog article for us. Read below about her struggle with guilt, judgement and PTSD following a devastating accident that left her daughter with third degree burns. Her bravery to write this must be commended.
Throughout life every single person will go through some type of event that will change them forever. I guess the reason I am writing this today gives me some sense of closure or at least to ease the pain of what myself and my family have experienced.
Five years on from my daughters traumatic experience, I'm thankful to say she's alive, she's well, she's cheeky, outspoken and full of life. She's just like any other seven year old girl. But some days she struggles. Some days she's self conscious, scared and full of unanswered questions.
I'm going to take myself back to the year 2009, 23rd of September, my life was perfect. My partner and I welcomed a beautiful baby girl into the family. We fell in love the moment we saw her. She became a little sister to her then two year old brother Joshua. We name her after her Dad but uniqued it in a way. Michaela. The next year and a half was full of laughter adventure and pure love.
In the year of 2011, December 11th I would have never imagined our lives changing in the way that it did. My perfect little girls life was put on the line. Some say it was a freak accident, others a major parenting fail on my behalf. I'm going to reach into the deepest darkest parts of my memory as this is not an easy story for me to tell. Its extremely hard finding a way to word it as each way I try I find my hand pauses on the page. I will never fully know the exact ways in which it happened as I was not present. What I can say though, is that I made a stupid decision in what could have been completely avoided if I had just handled certain things differently.
I had driven to my partners parents house where he was to settle an over the phone argument. To be completely honest I still to this day cannot even recall what the argument was about. I had stepped out of the car foolishly leaving Joshua and Michaela, walked into the backyard shed, not even three minutes had passed and I had my son tugging on my shirt mumbling a sentence I didn't fully understand but the look on his face had told me that something was wrong. What I saw next still haunts my dreams to this very day. Smoke streaming from the inside of the car. The faint crying and screaming from my daughter who was still in her car seat, fire below her. I screamed in panic for her dad and without hesitation reached in and freed her, burning myself in the process. Instantly ran her to the downstairs laundry tub for cold water. A million things running through my head as well as her screams of pain and her fathers panicked shouting. We raced her to the hospital. my sweet baby girl received third degree burns on both her feet and light burns to her hands from a fire that had been started by a lighter, paper and plastic containers and her older brothers curiosity.
Living in a small country town I knew of the stories that floated around. The excuses, the accusations, the grapevine starters. Three long excruciatingly painful months was spent by my daughters side in hospital. The surgeries, physio, social workers. I was drained, mentally and emotional broken. It had tore my family apart. Our lives had changed forever. Not only was my small world inside those hospital walls crashing, I spent my sleepless nights wondering what the outside world was saying. Sure enough the judgement of not only myself but my son spread. The stress was unbearable. I couldn't bring myself to look in the mirror let alone look into my daughters eyes. Her turmoil and the pain she was going through could have been easily avoided if I had chosen a different way of handling things. This sat in the back of my mind every time the doctors removed her bandages. "Look at what I've done" replayed in my mind over and over. I had family reassuring me that it was all going to be okay, but I knew it wasn't. The strength she had shown in these three months were beyond anything I could have imagined. And that right there is what kept me going. I needed to be strong for her, I needed to be the one to hold her hand and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Even though I was battling with myself to believe the truth behind what I was telling her.
Five years on brings me to today...I now suffer from PTSD, social anxiety and major depression. Everyday is a constant reminder of the battle I face within myself. But the mere thought that I can wake up everyday and see my daughter, knowing that she is still here, is what gets my through. I don't need to fight my battle alone because with every smile, every "I love you mum", every blessed day, she fights alongside with me. She is my fighter, my soldier, my miracle. And I'll be forever thankful to call her my daughter.
I guess I started this to help other mothers in a way of saying you're not alone. Every mother fights a different battle. Different stages of life. I'm putting my story out there in hope of breaking the chain on mental illness. Nobody should have to face it alone. Some things happen that either make or break us. And in saying that, throughout our journey I was in fact broken in so many ways that I thought I was beyond help. The best thing I've done is forgiven myself and remained strong for Michaela. You don't need to be perfect for them to know you are loved. Just be the best you can be. Your children will one day thank you for it.
Thank you for allowing me to share my story
Cass xoxo
Cass is a 28 year old, stay at home, single mother of three children, Joshua 11, Michaela 7, and Nathaniel 5. She lives in a small country town in North Queensland, Australia. Her passion is striving to be the best she can for her children and creating awareness and breaking the Mental Illness stigma.
