Intro to Memoirs

Mental Illness. The words stick to my tongue like rancid honey. The thought of a mentally ill person makes my blood run cold as little beads of sweat form all over my body. I do not want to be associated with some sick freak that has lost his grip on reality. This is how I used to feel. To me, mental illness meant someone in the corner with an aluminum foil hat and wicked body odor talking to an imaginary friend. What I didn't realize is that mental illness affects 1 in 4 people around the world. This means that in all likeliness you know at least one person, if not more, with mental illness. It is a disease no one talks about because of the stigma attached to it. So when my PTSD gave me nightmares every night, I didn't tell anyone. When I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder, I went to a trusted family physician under the guise of some other medical disorder. Finally, when I couldn't take it anymore and sought psychiatric treatment for my BiPolar disorder, I was humiliated and didn't even tell my family. I was so wrapped up in what everyone would think about me once I was diagnosed that I spent more time trying to hide my afflictions than I did trying to treat them. This ultimately led me down a dark path of self loathing and destruction. It wasn't until I lost everything that I decided to share my story. I want to reach others with similar issues, in the hopes that they can get the help they need before it's too late. My mental health issues started in high school, but I was too ashamed to get help until my twenties. With earlier treatment, I may have made fewer mistakes in my life or caused myself less pain.

Why Doesn't Mommy Love Me?

My mommy is the best mommy ever! She makes me cookies and lets me help stir the dough. She tells me stories that make me laugh. She plays video games with me on rainy days.

Sometimes I make mommy mad. One time I wouldn't stop crying and mommy yelled at me to shut up. Mommy said I was bad for crying. Mommy grabbed me and shook me and I cried even harder. I was scared. Then mommy started crying. She hugged me and said she was sorry and she loved me. I love mommy. I didn't mean to make her cry.

Sometimes mommy won't get out of bed to play with me. She tells me to get away from her. She hides under the covers. She tells me to go watch a movie. I watch a lot of movies. I wish mommy would get up. I didn't mean to make her hide.

Sometimes mommy is very sad. She gets really quiet and won't smile. She sits on the couch and ignores me until I talk to her. She says her medicine helps her sadness, but I don't think it does.  She says she is depressed. I didn't mean to make her depressed.

My mommy is the best mommy ever. I'm just the worst kid. I wish I could make her happier. I wish she loved me more.