As I thought could be the case, my mother is finding my posts about depression difficult. And I don't blame her. I'm not being at all fair to her. It was not her choice for me to write this blog, and I didn't give her the option to ask me not to. Perhaps it would have been nicer to clear it with her first. For that, Mom, I am sorry. It can't feel good to have something so private broadcast over the Internet for anyone to see, and I really do understand how this could be difficult. When you've tried to keep something quiet all your life, having your daughter broadcast it to the world could feel like betrayal.
But I want everyone to know that my mother was a really good Mom. And when you consider the personal hell she was going through at the time, she deserves to win a medal. No matter what, if we needed her, she was there. Even when she was feeling her personal worst. I could just as easily written about the hours I spent sitting at the end of her bed talking about the latest problem in my life. Or the times we went out to the swamp behind Black Rock and found tadpoles that we took home to watch as they turned into frogs. Or the countless concerts and plays that my parents sat through to support their daughters. Or the great summer trips we took together. Or the $600 phone bill that summer I was in Europe. It was certainly not all bad. There were tons of good times. And isn't that what life is? It's a combination of the good and the bad. After all, without the bad times, you don't know you're having good times.
There's something you learn when you become a parent, and that is just how hard your parents worked to raise you. A while back I wrote a blog thanking my parents for how they raised us. I meant every word of it. And despite all the crap we dealt with as a family (and every family has it's own brand of crap) my parents held it together. It's rather a miracle (and a testament to my parents' skills as human beings) that my sister and I kept body and soul together long enough to arrive in adulthood - not to mention to get educated and have many wonderful successes.
So, Mom, although it feels like I've been ragging on you, that was not at all the purpose of the Depression blog exercise. You went through really hard times. And I'm sorry you had to go through them. But I'm really hoping that these posts can help someone else NOT go through such hard times.
Listen, if those of you reading this could, would you please express your thoughts to my Mom in the comments? I'm sure that hearing other people express their thanks, sympathy, or understanding would go a long way to making her feel like our story might be helpful - she's not getting all the messages that have been sent on Facebook. Thanks!
P.S. - Of course, thanks to Dad, too. Because he stayed (I thank him for a lot more, by the way, but his staying was huge!). A lot of men wouldn't have. He has a very big heart, even though you might not know it from his sometimes gruff exterior. An exceptional human being who has gone through more than enough in this lifetime. Dad, may the remainder of your time here with us (which I hope is long) be filled with peace and joy - you've earned it.