There were so many things that my young self could not comprehend such as my mother's mental breakdowns and frequent hospitalizations. I did not understand how she could leave me and sometimes without a home. I experienced homelessness as a child, having to live in a shelter or with relatives who really didn't want the extra burden. I didn't understand the many doctors who saw my mother and simply gave her a bunch of pills and sent her on her way. I never understood the system which I grew to loathe over time, a system which never seemed to truly care about me or my mother. So when you have so many things which seem unfathomable, you turn inward. It was one way I coped as a child.
I have this photo of my mother and me from my childhood. We look almost like twins. We both have long hair and purple ribbons in our hair. I am clutching onto her leg and she is smiling down on me. Mental illness, poverty, or any life circumstance could not take away that primary bond between mother and daughter. Oh yes things have changed greatly over the years. And in so many ways one could say that I am not a good daughter. Likewise, someone could say that my mother was a poor parent. But that feeling was and is always there... of love.
Sometimes those core feelings are all you have. When you are dealing with the trauma of mental illness within a relationship or family, you have to rely upon a special emotional fortitude. Sometimes you do what you have to do not even for the other person but for yourself. You love because it is the one thing nobody can take away from you. It is the one part of your humanity you can hold onto.
I feel a calling to write here on this site because I finally feel the courage to write about my life with my mother. In the midst of all that chaos and confusion and downright despair there is meaning. I want to give back. I want to reach out. And in this way I want to re-discover the love I do have for my mother after so many years. My greatest hope is that my words will be of any benefit to those who are going through this in their life. As I grow older I find that sometimes my words are all I really have to give. I hope they will be useful here.
Somehow you squeezed out parts of a childhood while being a guardian and a witness to the effects of this illness, an unwillling participant in the unknown of each hour, the happiness and the sadness, and somehow kept the love going. She is fortunate to have you, as are those who read you in your other work here.
I wish you well, I wish her well too.