My dad knew her for almost 23 years (she is 39 now). she is always acting strange, having serious hallucinations and blackouts. she sleeps a lot (almost 14 hours a day)... yesterday, my dad showed me her diary, and i was really shocked to know that my mom's a psycho.

"When I was committed to Camarillo State Mental Hospital in California for yet another suicide attempt, after rotating in and out of both private and State hospitals, after many, many shock treatments, medications, and almost daily visits with the psychiatrist—all to no avail, I certainly felt hopeless and thought there was no life for me. Hence the suicide attempts.

I was committed with the diagnosis of schizophrenia, however that has never been confirmed, and I am more likely bipolar (although that has never been confirmed either). I do know that I had bouts of depression as a young child that got worse through my teenage and college years. My complete breakdown to a nonfunctioning state happened in my mid-20s.

While at the hospital I started to attend the Recovery, Inc. meetings that were held twice weekly, and I knew instantly that the common sense techniques that I would learn in that group would help me get well. It was a long, slow climb, but by attending the meetings, getting support from the other members of the group, and practicing what I was learning, I began to feel better and function better. Soon I was able to get a job, and my daughter christy came back to live with me.

I combated stigma as it came along. When I started my job I felt certain that I would never be able to do it because I was afraid that they would “see” my illness and fear. One member of the staff said, “Don’t be nervous. You’ll do fine.” It made me realize that they weren’t seeing my mental illness. They just saw someone nervous about doing a good job.

Later, I was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia at age twenty-six. After graduating college, I was unable to hold a job. Everyone seemed to be against me, talking about me, trying to get me fired and ruin me. Things were not going well as they had before.

No one saw things as I did. No one believed the things I thought were happening to me. The longer this continued, the worse it became. Before long, I thought my house was being wire-tapped and that my food could possibly be poisened.

My parents sent to to a psychiatrist. They were worried because I was not working. I graduated from college while working part-time as well as being involved in college clubs. Now, I was sleeping in until ten or eleven o’clock in the morning and often not working. The psychiatrist offered to prescribe me an anti-depressant, because I never told him what I thought was really happening to me. If I talked, things would surely get worse.

Eventually, it became intolerable. I believed my neighbors were plotting against me. I left notes in their mailboxes demanding that they leave me alone. "Enough is enough," I wrote. One of the neighbors was an FBI agent. I thought he was behind the wire-tapping. One of the other neighbors caught me,i was down in new orleans, chain sawing down dead trees and sifting through debris. my sleep schedule got ****** up, i guess due to the round the clock lights of the FEMA camp. that\’s all it took.

first i couldn’t read. then i couldn’t watch movies. i never ate or slept. the only things i did well were chain smoke, manual labor and entertain.

i heard voices, i saw something running from the hallways to my daughter's room, i found her asleep, i starred at the walls, i could see something like a shadow, with white eyes (i cant describe for you how frightened i was) my psychiatrist asked me if i heard the voice of wisdom.

i did. and the next day I was given the choice of going to the Crisis Center or going to jail. I chose the Crisis Center and was hospitalized.."

Woah. my dad never told me that she was sick, yesterday i went to sleep, she followed me, kissed me and said: "I am sorry your sky went black. but i have put a knife in that baby's back. i am sorry for cocaine and mental hospital too"

what does she means by this? I love my mom and i want to help her overcome this, but she won't take her pills, she didn't take a shower or brush her hair (which is thick, tall and very dark black) for 1 month. she barely talks with me anymore. and she doesn't talk with that either. she refuses to go to the physiotherapist, and she doesn't want to see anyone anymore!

she is always in her room, sitting in a corner, and reading old, depressing, melancholic poetry and novels.

she says: "I am malcontent. grudges made me the person i am now. i fear.......(suddenly stopped talking).

Fhuck. my fingers hurt me. i can't believe i wrote all of this.

help me!