My Father and Mother
I am sorry that it is such a long story.
When I grew up my mother and father where a very loving couple at first. We had a peaceful home, did a lot of things together outside in nature, with family and other things. My father was a hobby guitar pla
But my father sometimes suffered from psychoses, at first we did not know. (Later on it grew worse into a schitzofrenic disorder, and then we knew) When I was 5 years old my sister was born and because my father had this disorder, and her being the third child it all became too much for him. He lost it and at some point started drinking a bottle of something strong each evening. I do not remember what it was but I remember the stacked bottles in the shed. He always went to sleep early and when he did not he created some kind of trouble or a very depressed evening.
My mother was able to hold on to the happy family image (and wish) in her mind for a long time. She tried and tried to hold everything together but in the end it broke her up. She and I always had a very 'close' connection. I was always with her, and loved her 'so much'. My father had become violent towards her, and they had a lot of verbal fights as well. Sometimes he thought that she had put poison in his food for example. As a child I wanted to be good for her, to help her feel better. But when it all broke her up she began to drink as well and my effort of wanting to be good for her turned into a very unhealthy trying to heal her, help her. She drank much much more then my father. And when she did the alcohol changed her so easily, it made her a depressed, angry, harsh and sick person. She did not eat well, did not sleep during the nights but often during the days, sometimes fell from the stairs or outside into the bushes or on the street. It caused huge rage in my father and the situation became so intensely bad that my family took me, my brother and sister out of the home.
At some point we went back and my mother was ok again for some time but then started drinking again. My father lost it again and etc. When I was about 12 years old my fathers sister called the police. The police told my father to leave the home in a couple of hours, and that he was not allowed to come back anymore. They left and my father left as well. I was so relieved that my mother and father had finally split up, it was something I wished for.
When he had left the situation did not become better. My mother was completely lovesick, finally she had given up and now she felt the pain and hurt of losing someone you loved very much. She truly had loved him intensely.
So she did not stop drinking, addicted to the alcohol so much.. And then one morning I was going to school on my bike I stopped.. and suddenly felt very afraid for her, because she was so very drunk. I was afraid something might happen.. but did not listen because I was afraid of that very often. So I made myself forget it and went to school. When I came home and walked up the stairs to see if she was in her bed she was lying under the second stairs. With her head against the wall, eyes closed, with blood under her head and with a heavy breath. I tried to wake her up but she was in coma.
She was in the hospital for three weeks, for two weeks in coma and after that in a very strange confused state in which she only said the alphabet, or tried to, she always stopped somewhere in the middle and then tried again. If I spoke to her she did not respond. Me my brother and sister where living with our aunts again, who, all of them, had decided to not visit or help my mother anymore. When she went home, they left her alone and did nothing. I was the only one that cared to go to visit her. She was still not healed from her fall, completely not herself and very weak, confused etc because of the coma she had been in.. and finally.. after some time of being alone she started drinking 'again'. This time out of loneliness and pain over her lost family. And also her ability to walk in a normal way, her coma has caused that.
And so it started again, my brother was old enough to move out at some point, and did. I had huge fights with my aunt over my mother (I was about 13/14 now). And at some point left her home and went to my mother to take care of her in fear for her.. well.. live.
And.. a lot of years ago already we succeeded :) my mother, my sister and me. She stopped drinking. (maybe 2002 or something, I do not remember) Every once in a while she starts again when something happens. But these are only short periods, a couple of days until she realizes..
I always knew that she would be able to come out of it. She is person.. with a heart that.. I do not know how to explain. But I see her as such a beautiful person that I 'could' not allow it, as a child, and now. I was not able to. Always when she was drunk I had 'so' much pain over losing my mother. She was 'not' there in that moment, but at the same time she was. She was not death.. I could not give her up, I believed in that person that she 'really' was, that I remembered from when I was little. My family did not. And in the end she did change into another person because of the coma, she is not the same. But still.
I live in a place of my own now, only my sister still lives with my mother. I call her almost every day and love her very much. Sometimes I am worried, she is very lonely and not able yet to create a 'new' live for herself. She is at home a lot. Her family is still not there because she had a fall back again this summer. She had become sick, a pneumonia that lasted for almost 12 months. Doctors gave her Pretnison at some point, a very heavy kind of medication. It 'can' cause changes in mood. It gave her depression all over again, and other stuff. At some point the doctors decided that Pretnison is bad for her, that her body responds to it in a wrong way. But the harm was done already, she drank for a couple of weeks. The family saw this, and forgot that she had been fighting against her illness on her own 'for months' without drinking. So they continue their silence towards her. The Pretnison did cure her long lasting pneumonia, so she is healing now.
And this is where we are now, me as a grown up child from a mother and father that used a lot of alcohol. I do not see my father anymore by the way. As a child I decided that, and now I am simply afraid to decide what I should do and if I should change it.