FAMILY AND MY MENTAL HEALTH
Anger issues and suicidal tendencies due to body dysmorphia.
That's what the doctor told my mother that I had in addition to my first diagnosis of BPD. It explained why I broke mirrors, obsessed over things to wear two days before the said event, then hating it and forfeiting the event altogether. I kept silent on the way home, increased the volume of my headphones, trying to shrink into the already oversized hoodie I was wearing. I didn't want to give room for my mom to speak. It always ended badly.
"....all him, you hear me?"
"....hear me?" I don't hear you, I said silently. Could she just shut up?
"...yla."
"Makayla!"
I scowled as the car abruptly came to a halt and my new Clone Airpods were ripped off my ears. Don't get angry, I chanted. Don't get angry. It would do us no good. This was the Express. We needed to get off the road.
"Can you just listen to me for once Makayla?" She huffed. I just stared at her. I really didn't want to say anything bad.
"I'm listening." I finally muttered. Apparently that set her off.
"You just made us waste $80 on a doctor and for what? BPD, Anger issues, Suicidal tendencies and what.....Body dysmorphia?! Child, everybody goes through that. Everybody acts different and everybody feels like everything needs to end once in a while. Nobody feels like they look good everyday. GET OVER IT."
I snapped.
"Excuse me for wanting to know about my health little Miss Illiteracy who didn't finish high school and never likes to learn new things. You're so uptight and so....stuffy. No wonder Dad left you. I would too."
We didn't speak after that.
I hated what I said, but was still too angry to talk to her.
I called my Dad and moved to live with him in the next 2 days.
Mom never told me goodbye.
Unlike mom, dad was caring, kind and made an effort to learn about my illnesses.
He had me attend support groups for BPD, Suicidal tendencies and body dysmorphia. We also visited a doctor friend of his once a month.
After 3 months of attending the support groups, I told them all that went down with my mom and how we haven't spoken in almost two years. They all complained too, but let me finish when I told them how bad I felt after and how guilty I'd been feeling since then. They encouraged me to talk to my mom and apologize for my words to get over it. I was super grateful to have people like them in my life.
I went home to talk to my dad about meeting my mom and got the greatest shock when I came home to see him cooking for a woman. I almost started throwing things when I saw that it was my mom. The shock left me speechless.
"Makayla."
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I muttered. She looked smaller, thinner, like a ghost or something. It was evident that she heard my words, from the hurt on her face.
"She wanted to talk to you, Kayla." Dad said slowly, his eyes pleading with me to hear her out. "I didn't tell you because I was afraid you'd say no."
"It's fine." I smiled at him. I knew exactly what to do. "I wanted to talk to her anyway. We'll be in my room Dad. I'll do desert later."
I left her up to my room and we sat on my bed as she began to apologize and explaining all she had been going through since I left. She had been diagnosed with unspecified depressive episodes and had been a wreck till Dad had introduced her to a support group. She just stopped her antidepressants two months ago.
".....going to work and coming back to meet an empty house took a toll on me." She looked at me, searching my eyes for an answer. I honestly just wanted to cry, so I hugged her. Tight.
"I'm very sorry mom. I'm sorry for saying such mean things to you even if I was mad. I'm sorry for not apologizing sooner."
"I'm sorry for mocking your diagnosis. Mental health isn't really taken seriously."
We headed downstairs at the sound of Dad's voice for dinner, smiling and from the way they're looking at each other, our family's definitely coming back together again.
Writer Details:Kenneth Daniella ✍️
Location:Wellspring University,Edo State,Nigeria 🇳🇬
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