I Finally Got Over: “When Is the Mental Illness Train Going to Hit Me?”

I now live in, “When is it going to hit my children?”

After publishing an article about growing up with a mother who suffered from Multiple Personality Disorder, I received this note:

I spent all of my twenties agonizing, determined never to have children because of my screwed up genes. (My mother has a severe case of bipolar disorder.) After finally getting over ‘When is the mental illness train going to hit me,’ and finally deciding to try to have biological children, I now live in “When is it going to hit my children?”

I can let myself feel pure panic when I think of abusing my children the way I was abused.

OK, so that’s the first thought, the one I have no control over. The second thought has to be: how are they doing today?

Great.

Moving on! I go about managing my depression and let them live their lives, knowing I am always there, whatever the circumstances. As a parent of now-teens, I did not understand during their infancy and childhoods how strong children are. Really, our best parenting is to provide food, clothing, and shelter, as much love as we can muster, and the willingness to apologize to them when we are wrong. If we can do that, our children will flourish.

In apologizing to my own children, my hope is that they can grow up free of the oppressive pain that is the logical response to not having been apologized to.

Why “the ability to apologize”? Accountability, baby. There was a time when I was deep into early recovery, where forgiveness seems not only an impossible feat, it was an impossible undertaking. Forgive? FOR-GIVE? All we thought wanted, my cohort and I, was to understand why a parent chose to abuse. It is impossible to heal until I hear the magical words, “I’m sorry.” 

Never happened to me. However, in apologizing to my own children, my hope is that they can grow up free of the oppressive pain that is the logical response to not having been apologized to. I have heard, “Alle, your mother had MPD and your father was a pedophile. Of all people, you deserve an apology.” 

I see children all the time who are in real pain around being taken home from the park, from being dropped at pre-school that first scary day. Any parent who has heard that particular wail understands what that child is going through. Which is why it is important to say, “I’m so sorry that this is painful.” 

Or, in a different situation, “I’m so sorry we can’t have a dog. You really want one, don’t you?” Or: “I’m so sorry I forgot to reserve the jumpy-house place in time for your birthday and now its all booked.” 

Or: “I’m so sorry I can’t find the key to the closet where I locked your phone and it is three days past the time I should have returned it to you.”

These are truly painful experiences for a child, a teen. If left un-apologized for, they will commpound over the years, even to lead to the child feeling abandoned. Which in not what anyone reading this article wants, or you wouldn’t be reading this article.

My kids are now teens. As they grew, I took great comfort in my ability to apologize. Life in this world affords plenty of righteous indignation. Thus far, they show no signs of feeling that burn about me. In a given moment, sure; but not in a sustained, damaging way. A potentially abusive way.