I can’t remember how many times people have told me to stop taking my meds, they don’t get that I need them so that I don’t go and murder my “enemies”.
My mother is absent, I think that has to do with her depression, she’s always lying in bed and never wants to do anything, and when she does want to do something, usually she complains about the life we have. She’s unable to recognize that I am ill too; she wants me to stop taking my meds.
I think I don’t have a good relationship with her, sometimes I feel like she didn’t want to have me as a child, because you can see in pictures that after my birth she wasn’t happy, I think she had post-partum depression, but of course in those days that’s stuff didn’t exist, or nobody talked about it.
She always ignored my episodes, saying that they were common teenage things, her illness had to be the focus of our family, I don’t get it, and if she takes drugs, why can’t I? She’s never going to answer me, because like I always say she only has time for herself and nobody else. I don’t want to paint her as a bad mother, she’s not so absent, but her illness pushes her away from me.
And my poor father is in the middle of the two crazies, trying to be there for us equally, my mother would say that I’m making sound like a saint if she read this, and yes my mother is absent during her depressive episodes, but my father never made her own up to her mistakes, he would let everything pass, while we did my homework in the kitchen…