Intro to my mother has schizophrenia

I am blogging my journey, of being a daughter, whose mother has schizophrenia. She has recently came back into my life around 10ish months ago after, I was absent for around 11 years. The chapter in my life of dealing with my mother, I thought it was finished forever. But, I am learning it is only beginning. There's a medical side of me, can realize that my mother could be considered another lost case in the system, but still wishes for her to be better, normal, and in control of her life. The child/ daughter is still angry, frustrated, and inpatient with her, for many reasons. I am working on these issues. I am trying to move forward, and accept her and try to enjoy her, the best I can. After all, she is my mother. I am an adult with a child, and having a hard time opening my house to her. I am afraid of her having an episode. It's real hard to grab ahold of my emotions and stay calm, when she is in the middle of her episode. I have to grab deep down inside of me, back to when I was a child, and was used to her daily. I have forgotten or suppressed the copping skills, when it comes to dealing with my mother.

I hope that I can learn and grow from this blog, thank you for reading my blog....

My mother MRJ was diagnosed with schizophrenia back in 79-80's. There was an incident with a gun, held by my mother, and it was pointed at my father, who was holding me in his arms. When she fired the gun into the wall, my father dropped me. He left me, and called the cops. Therefore, the courts had her evaluated. (My aunts and fathers version) my mother’s version is a little more colorful.

 Let me speed up to the divorce between my father and my mother. (I was around 6) It was a hard time for her. She lost her house, and we moved into a basement of an old friend of hers. That started a chain of homelessness, living in her cars, couch hopping, shelters, evictions, living in a campground for the whole summer break. This went on for about 10 years. In addition, in those 10 years I became a big sister to 2 brothers. My first brighter came around age 8, and the 2^nd brother came around the age of 15ish. It seemed like every 8 years she had a child. Finally after having 3 children, and she was in the relationship with father of my 2nd bro, my grandfather paid for a 2 bed room trailer with a little bit of land. By then I was 16 yrs old and I had turned to drugs and was in and out of the house since I was 15. (and that's a whole diff chapter) I was in trouble or being sick of living that life, with her mood swings, crazy thinking, irrational thinking, and at times she got violent with me, and so the list goes on and on. When I finally did leave, I didn't speak to her but maybe a hand full of times. When I became pregnant with my son, I wanted him to know his family. See, my mother had isolated us from her family, she states they were all evil and dead to her. I believed they were evil, until I was on my own and hunted down my aunts. In reality if you pissed her off, she would turn her back and stop talking to you. If I wanted to see my brothers, I had to talk to talk to my mother, which was hard, I was still angry with her. I hated her.

We had a falling out. I wanted my mother to get help. She refused the idea; she kept staying, she would never be let back out (Western State). I begged her; she was hearing voices, thinking every car that drove by her house was spying on her. She thought the father of my 3^rd brother was trying to kidnap him. She started setting up traps in her yard. When I blew up yelling at her, that she needs help! She  needs to be on medicine! My brothers can stay with me while she goes and gets help. Once I said, “taking my brothers off her hands” She lost it. Screaming at me, I was the crazy one, and I was out to get her committed.                                                                                                                   

   Well She was right, I was crazy for thinking she would agree, and yes I did want her committed, and locked away so that I would never have to deal with her. We stopped talking altogether. Once in a while, she would try to contact me, when she decided she wasn’t mad at me anymore, and I would ignore her. I was still angry with her.

 Then Years and years went by, about 11 of them or so and during those years, I was ok with not speaking to her, although, I missed my brothers, and worried about them all of the time. (until we were reunited about 3 yrs ago, that’s  another chapter) When I started to understand schizophrenia a little, that is when the hate of my mother started too melted away a little. I was still angry with her, for not trying to get herself help, so she could have given us kids a better life. Well that was my thought process back then. Since I have grown up a bit, my feelings for my mother has changed, there is the side that wants to grab her, hug her, and help her. The other side of me is scared to death of her, and her mental statist, and what she is capable of doing and saying. I am still in the process of learning how to deal with my mother and healing old wounds that I have suppressed……

 The Friday, we did reunite on the city bus, is a day I will never forget......