Growing up, Mother’s depression was a suffocating and
crippling darkness that shrouded over me like a dark cloud.
She reflected on her experiences with depression by describing them
like storms that took her over like demonic possession.
I remember when Mother described how terrifying it was for her
when she crossed into the realm of psychosis,
and lost perspective on how to differentiate between reality testing of madness and lucidity.
This was a woman who would voluntarily check herself into
a psychiatric hospitalization and then break herself out.
But I can appreciate being stupid like a fox or a con artist conning himself.
Been there, done that.
Looking back, seeing Mother’s Higher Self being dominated by her lower self
was enough to drive me nuts.
As much as it was hard for her to breathe,
it was hard for those of us around her to breathe…
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