I worried about the future, but now I live by the day, sharing that tub of ice-cream with mom
“Growing up, mom wasn’t able to look after me. She was at home physically, but mentally she was elsewhere. She’d stare out the window all day, murmur to herself and every night, she’d scream at the top of her lungs. I knew something was wrong, but I was too young and afraid to ask.
At school, I was bullied because of my shabby clothes, unkempt hair and because I had biscuits or bread-butter for lunch. My classmates would ask me, ‘Doesn’t your mom look after you?’ I’d break down and wonder what was happening to her. I craved to have a ‘normal family’ like all my friends. Finally, I got so frustrated that I asked mom, ‘Why are you like this? Why don’t you ever pay attention to me?’ Her eyes were distant when she said, ‘I’m trying to protect this house from a superstition that wants to destroy it.’
I was in the 8th grade then and mom’s episodes were getting worse, so we took her to the doctor who told us she had a mental disorder and needed to be hospitalized. There, she underwent shock therapy and other treatment.
After that, things changed. Mom’s hallucinations decreased, she started taking her recovery seriously and even recognized our efforts to look after her. We saw a psychiatrist who diagnosed her with schizophrenia and gave her medicines.
Unaware of the disorder, I started reading about it, talking to doctors, trying to understand it and figuring out ways to help her. I found out that she needed love, care and rest. So my brother, dad and I came together for her–I’d cook and do the chores while my brother and dad made a schedule for her medicines and took her for monthly check-ups.
Over time, mom’s condition improved and in healing her, we became closer as a family. She’s now more present in the moment with us, sleeps peacefully at night and even cooks from time to time! Last time I asked her, ‘Where’s your superstition?’, she said, ‘on vacation!’
It’s been 4 years since her last episode and every week, we make a little progress. Often, the three of us will get her things that make her happy– whether it’s a sari or her favorite ice-cream. When I was younger, I worried about the future, but now I live by the day, sharing that tub of ice-cream with mom.”
(Collected from Humans of Bombay’s Facebook page)