Odds of getting the crazy gene in a family full of crazies is about as inevitable as drawing your name at the family reunion raffle--after your mother bought all of the tickets. And then, the spoils of such prizewinning vary in size, shape, scope, depth and financial cost.
Me? I pulled a couple of those tickets to be sure. However, the realization of such winnings didn't manifest themselves until motherhood. There were, however, many who tried to notify me leading up to my moment of truth. Like an annoying intercom announcement, I was warned many times in the form of dysfunctional relationships, short-lived employment and socially adventurous encounters.
10,000 roommates cannot be wrong. Like my moods, people either loved me or hated me--there was no in-between. But over and again, these blow-ups were explained away in my mind as character flaws of those 'persecuting' me. This is the catch-22 of mental illness. I was too delusional to see my error, and those experiencing my error were uninformed or ill-equipped to handle someone with mental illness. Fault is not relevant.
This is the purpose of the blog: to inform those who encounter this illness, in the people they meet, the people they love, and in themselves.
For me, the question is no longer 'Why Me?' but 'Is there a generic for that?' Acceptance is the first step to finding peace of mind. And mind is the matter.
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