It's been less than 24 hours since I finally admitted to myself that my mother was mentally ill. I say "crazy," and I'll say "crazy" because it's the truth, but I don't want anyone to ever think there's something derogatory in the way I treat this situation. Mentally ill just takes longer to type.
With the help of my good friend tylenol pm, I slept last night, but waking up groggy is quite difficult.
Last night I called everyone I know who can potentially offer advice. I asked a couple of friends for the name of their therapists because I know that this sort of situation is unhealthy for me. I need counseling. Wow, yet another self-revelation.
Some facts about me:
I'm 27 years old
I sort of have a boyfriend (we're going through some issues right now, and I know that me refusing to acknowledge my mother's situation for the three years we've been dating hasn't helped.)
I have a job
I like to read
I have problems expressing myself.
I spent the last 15 years since my father passed away lying to myself and everyone else about my mother's mental health.
wow.
I'm still new at this, "having a crazy mom" thing, so I'm doing my preliminary research online both to find help for her and help for me.
We live in Manhattan, so I've contacted city services and therapists in the city. I also requested several books about this from my local library.
It doesn't seem like much, but for me every step is a leap.
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