Obviously , I never asked to be mentally ill . The acknowledgment had not surfaced until maybe 10 years ago but acceptance has taken much longer . I dont want this to be all about my illness but it really is because it has woven itself intricately into my fiber . Now the meds that I have been on for 30 plus years have taken over the actual disease and become the ailment. Again that will become clearer eventually. There has not been a time where I could not be labeled and I have spent very little time in my life where I was not in some kind of therapy. I often reflect on myself as a child and I have deep sympathy for her. I have issues looking at her baby pictures and knowing what her future will become it is this deep seated mourning that is painful to my core. Were there mistakes made by my parents , absolutely just like every other parent but at some point that really needs to be shoved aside. Let me try to do that for my sanity.
My mother was a pretty career woman born in 1927. She had two brothers and a sister and was raised in a Italian Home in Upstate NY. I would hear glimpses into her life. However, one thing that always stuck out was my grandfather and his alcohol problems. Stories of my mother and grandmother walking pass him while he was in a bar on main street or my grandmother actually getting beat up. It was discovered later on that my grandfather had a brain tumor and at some point later I will give an inkling as to why I have allotted him some forgiveness. I believe my mother grew up with extreme stress in her childhood and I also believe in mental health legacies. This is where dysfunction is traditionally pass down generation to generation usually without the realization. She was in her 30's unmarried and with no children something I guess she desperately wanted . She always said one child. The story goes she would see this man jogging or riding his bike in the park that she lived next too and she thought he was handsome. Somehow she reeled him even though her personality always seemed the opposite of such things, somehow she scored with him. She also revealed to me somewhere down the line that she broke the condom and that was it. Except my father had a family, I cannot confirm but I think he was long separated if not it broke up what was left of his marriage. Nobody knew about genetics or the passing down of any type of illnesses in 1966. How was my mother to know. It would seem now all these years later she was desperate and I suspect she was lonely and wanted something of her own. I use to find humor in some of these things and retrospect, I think it is my mental state now that struggles to find the mythology and wonder about my preexistence. It is much more difficult to find now a days.
My mother was a pretty career woman born in 1927. She had two brothers and a sister and was raised in a Italian Home in Upstate NY. I would hear glimpses into her life. However, one thing that always stuck out was my grandfather and his alcohol problems. Stories of my mother and grandmother walking pass him while he was in a bar on main street or my grandmother actually getting beat up. It was discovered later on that my grandfather had a brain tumor and at some point later I will give an inkling as to why I have allotted him some forgiveness. I believe my mother grew up with extreme stress in her childhood and I also believe in mental health legacies. This is where dysfunction is traditionally pass down generation to generation usually without the realization. She was in her 30's unmarried and with no children something I guess she desperately wanted . She always said one child. The story goes she would see this man jogging or riding his bike in the park that she lived next too and she thought he was handsome. Somehow she reeled him even though her personality always seemed the opposite of such things, somehow she scored with him. She also revealed to me somewhere down the line that she broke the condom and that was it. Except my father had a family, I cannot confirm but I think he was long separated if not it broke up what was left of his marriage. Nobody knew about genetics or the passing down of any type of illnesses in 1966. How was my mother to know. It would seem now all these years later she was desperate and I suspect she was lonely and wanted something of her own. I use to find humor in some of these things and retrospect, I think it is my mental state now that struggles to find the mythology and wonder about my preexistence. It is much more difficult to find now a days.
