(See previous post first)
So, now that I’ve told you I hate those two words, I can tell you why. (Check out previous post if you have no idea what im talking about)
11 years ago my beautiful mum began to act odd. There is no other way to describe it but that. At the time, she was living in France with my dad as I had been around 6 months earlier (but that’s a whole differnt story for another time).
I was regularly speaking with my mum on the phone & also emailing several times a week. The conversations & emails were becoming more & more strange. For example, one day out of the blue my mum told me she thought I was gay. Now, this isn’t an insult & it didn’t upset me, it was just very confusing to me why she would all of a sudden say something like that. I had given her no reason to think it, I had a very happy relationship with my then boyfriend (who is now my husband) & I had a beautiful 2 year old with him & was & had always been heterosexual. I just passed it as something a little off & put it out of my mind.
Over the weeks those kind of things began to happen more & more. The odd comment, unusual thought patterns & out of character behaviour. It did occur to me that my mum was suffering from depression. Things had got fairly tense in France & we (my husband & I) had found it incredibly difficult to find work. The house although beautiful was still unfinished and this bothered my mum to no end because she felt it wasn’t a safe place for a two year old, especially one that had a thing about nails, tools & anything else dangerous. So it was decided that the three of us would return to the uk which basically left my mum on her own (my dad worked long hours, everyday & far away) in a very rural part of France…..she missed us terribly, she had too much time alone & way too much time to think, about her past, her life, and bad things. So, it seemed evident that depression was the reason for this behaviour & it was, to a degree. In fact I’d say that it’s exactly where this nightmare all started. If depression isn’t treated, let me tell you, it can turn pure evil! And if depression itself can’t be evil enough, there’s another whole deep & even darker side to it than you could ever imagine.
This blog is to share my story. I say MY story although it’s not actually my story at all. I didn’t endure the torture my mum did. But I can tell you I went through my very own torture & still do til this day. I felt compelled to tell this story, to tell of what having a poorly brain can do to a person & their family but also to tell you that you are not alone. This is about 11 years ago, it’s about today, tomorrow & the day after that. This is about life with a poorly brain.
Mental health (poorly brain) 