I was supposed to visit my sister and niece the weekend I ended up inpatient. I kept saying over and over. "What if I had gone?" I had no idea I was manic. I just didn't know. I was completely terrified. I don't ever want my niece to see me like that.
Although my pastor friend who has mental illness and a young son and visited me in the psych unit pointed out: "if she never sees you sick, never sees you battle mental illness, or get healthy, how will she know what to do if she has mental illness herself?" It's a good question I have pondered at length. If I had diabetes or any number of chronic diseases, hiding it from an adolescent would be absurd. For instance I knew my grandma had celiac Sprue long before I could spell it. But mental illness seems different somehow.
By only presenting shiny, happy auntie all the time and hiding when I'm not, couldn't I end up continuing the stigma of mental illness in my own family? I spent years as a teen horrifically depressed but my parents refused to get me or themselves help.
So I guess linking back to the original question. What about babies and small children as a parent or close adult? I know a lot of us had bad childhoods, so how do we help make better ones for the kids in our lives without presenting fake facade of utter wellness?