It's All My Parent's Fault

Ok, I think it’s time to give credit to my parents and all others who have a child or children who deal with a mental illness. There is next to no evidence that convicts lousy parenting of causing serious mental illnesses. That being said, I absolutely recognize that feeling put down or having lots of pressure on you at home can contribute to not feeling great. Before I get into this too much I will say I recognize that some people have very traumatic home lives. Those are situations I cannot speak to; but I also feel that the majority of people reading this probably had a somewhat stereotyped “normal” family life.

It’s all my parents fault that I have a chemical imbalance in my brain.

It’s all my parents fault that I isolate myself from others.

It’s all my parents fault that I want to be an adult all the time.

It’s all my parents fault that I am good at hiding from and lying to those around me.

This is more or less the conversation I hear amongst young people lately. We all want to blame our parents for the crap we’ve gone through but I’m afraid that’s just too simple. With only about 200 more days left of the high school years I think it’s about time my age bracket start owning our own mistakes, accepting what we cannot change about ourselves and cutting our parents some slack. To put it simply, we need a reality check.

My mom has felt particularly bombarded by my therapists as being the root cause of all my struggles. Now, whether that is actually their opinion or whether it is simply in her mind, who knows? But as the subject in question I can boldly say that this notion is complete crap. There were absolutely times when I could and should have told my parents about what was going on in my life; from boyfriends who treated me badly, being picked on at school or my constant feeling that I wasn’t making them proud. All these things, along with a mental chemical imbalance, kick started what became sever anxiety and depression…not my parents. Mentally, I told myself that I couldn’t tell my parents what was going on with me because they would be disappointed, however, all they would have actually done was supported me through it. They could and definitely would have tried to help in whatever way they could. I suppose part of the truth of it was that I wanted to be a grown up and prove that I could handle all this on my own…I was the ripe old age of 11 (approx) when this started.

I’ll admit that family doesn’t always make the struggle easier but that is often brought on by a lack of communication. For years my family referred to me as always grumpy, a downer or mole-like because of my basement bedroom. It really hurt me but it wasn’t until last year at a family therapist that I told them how I felt about it. As soon as I opened up about that things that bothered me at home; they began to change. I would recommend family therapy to anyone who is having trouble particularly with his or her parent(s). It’s hard to bring up though topics when you’re are home but when you are brought into a safe space where there is a third party to mediate, it all becomes easier. Most people I’ve spoken to about family therapy say “I’m not ready for that,” and that’s totally fair but I would argue that you’ll probably never feel ready and home only has a chance of getting better if you talk about what’s going on.

At least in my mom’s case, she already felt responsible for my depression and my sister’s ADHD, she didn’t need me reinforcing it. I knew that it wasn’t her fault but not everyone understands that. It must be really challenging to find out that your baby girl is depressed, that despite your efforts to make her happy, she is stuck in the negative and only she can save herself. The pain of seeing the scars would push anyone into a bit of denial. It has often been said that it is harder to watch someone you love in pain then to be in pain yourself. I wholeheartedly believe this and can only imagine the shock my mother must have been in. All of a sudden there are medications to organize, as well as endless individual and family therapy with my mom and dad. I know how much it sucked being the one going through it so I can only guess about how it felt to watching it happen.

“Parents just don’t understand,” but how are they ever supposed to if we don’t tell them what’s up with us?

Here’s to the parents who are doing their best to love and nurture a child who is diagnosed with something rarely spoken of in their generation.