Something That Stays With Me...

I have been told many things. I have lived though many battles. Depression, mental disorders, arguments, physical fights. My family has always been some sort of stability, despite my parents having severe issues. At one point, before I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, I got into a huge argument with my mother. I don't remember what we were arguing about, but when I went into my room to block out the yelling and cool down, my mother burst into the room and yelled, "Do you want to go to the state? Because I can't handle you anymore!" That wasn't what hurt me. That wasn't the worst thing that hurt me. What was worse, what my father, right behind her, looking at me and saying, "Go ahead and send her! I'm sick of her! Hold on, I'll get the phone!"  It felt like all my stability was gone... I had nothing.. my parents didn't want me.

It got to this point because they didn't bother to try to figure out what was making me act the way I was. I couldn't control the things I did or said. I just got so angry that screaming was the only way to make myself feel better. They just labeled me a "spoiled brat" and "oppositional". And it's stupid, because my mother has bipolar disorder type 1 (I have type 2), so I would think that she would recognize some of the signs. Cronic Insomia, depression, lathargia, and things like that. But she didn't. No one did. And it took my first mental hospitalization before they realized what was going on. And once they realized my disorder, they were all understanding and supportive and got me the help I needed. Had they not known, they would have given me up to foster care.

My parents would have given me up, because they didn't understand me. They weren't looking for reasons WHY I was acting the way I did. They just thought I was the way I was. And the fact that they were about to give up on their youngest child because of that stupidity... It's unacceptable. I'll never forget that.
absolutionist absolutionist
22-25, F
Aug 12, 2010