February 22, 2015: write a letter to my mother

This sounds like something the average person would have done at some point in their life, but I haven’t.

I was watching an episode of House a few days ago and it was the one where a single mother had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and her young teenage son was caring for her. I didn’t want to cry during the episode but I did. I cried because I remembered what it was like when my mother’s schizophrenia symptoms where emerging and when I behaved in the exact opposite way as this boy did. I felt guilty. The whole thing reminded me of what a terrible daughter I had been for not being supportive, not understanding and not being helpful. Tired of being woken up in the middle of the night to escape those people in her mind that were chasing us, I started sleeping over at my boyfriends house. My dad would call me a whore as I left. I don’t blame him, I’m not a victim of anything. We all want situations to go as we plan and when they don’t we can feel helpless. Sometimes that frustration makes people say things that are hurtful.

I needed a way to stop feeling guilty and spending these last few days thinking about the past. I can’t change it, I can only learn from my mistakes and move forward. I wrote my mom a letter. I said all the things I needed to say in that letter. When I was finished, I burned it. She doesn’t need to see it. She doesn’t like to talk about those years and I’m not entirely convinced she even fully remembers them.

IMG_7874

I hope that this will bring me some peace.

It’s been a full week since I last wrote. I’m not sure why I waited so long. It might be because I’ve been using this blog as an outlet and since being off my anti-depressants I’ve been feeling well and the need for that outlet is diminishing. Or maybe I’ve just been too busy doing normal people things like making fabulous meals and cleaning the house. Two things I hadn’t been doing for a very long time. This past week did bring plenty of anxiety and a few PRN pills my way though. Apparently that little problem didn’t magically disappear.

I’m not an active practicer of religion but I have always loved this prayer and always find some comfort in it.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Fucking great line.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s