A lighthearted title, with some very dark topics. I never felt like my daughter’s Mother. In fact, I “jokingly” told people that I was just waiting for her “real Mom” to come pick her up; that I was just babysitting. And I certainly never referred to her as my daughter, nor to myself as her mother. She was called “the baby”, or Olivia. And since her middle name is Frances, the blog title, “Franny and the Nanny” was born during some of our darkest days while my family tried to help me find some levity.
I will place a trigger warning here, and will try to do so on the posts that go deep; however, if you are reading my blog, you should know that it often discusses topics surrounding medical trauma, mental illness, psychiatric hospitalization, suicidality, and may occasionally venture into topics pertaining to sexual and childhood trauma. Unfortunately, our brains weave an intricate web of memories when new trauma arises, often forcing us to process some things that have been deeply buried. And this is indeed what has happened in therapy. So, there may be some mention in my blog posts, but overall, the focus will mostly be surrounding my own experience with PMADs.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading this. I hope you can find support and resources here. And most importantly, I hope you will know that you are not alone.
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
-Romans 8:38-39, NIV