mothers Archive

The Mental Hospital at Thirteen

Trigger warning: Mention of constrainment and incarceration, suicidal thoughts, misdiagnosis

My general care practitioner put me on a low dose of Zoloft. She said that it would take a couple of weeks, that I would start to notice feeling a bit better, just slowly notice that I felt good.

I got better.

Quickly.

I went to see her again a week later, and I was bouncing, happy, excited. I expected a much different reaction than the one I got.

Im So MAD

TW: suicidal thoughts, abuse

All of this could’ve been prevented. All I needed was my mother to support me, build up my self esteem, get me help for my eating disorder, be someone I could talk to. Instead she tore down what little self esteem I had bit by bit, contributed to my eating disorder, and was generally untrustworthy, unpredictable, and indecipherable.

Fear of Addiction and the Fall Into Alcoholism

My first experience drinking beer (well, aside from the time my mother’s brother gave me a drink when I was like five telling me it was soda – I spit it back out on him) was at a neighbor’s party when I was 20 or so. Up until that point, I’d never had a beer, and didn’t even like the smell of it. Over the next year and a half of knowing him, I found an affinity for beer, in relatively limited quantities, anyway.