Maybe I have to re formulate this goal. “Accept my family and love them anyway” could be more accurate.
I have a depressive brother, deeply sad, unhappy, and lonely. He’s not diagnosed yet, but it is obvious to me. He has most of the symptoms, and I try to encourage him to begin a therapy.
I had the chance to talk about him to my parents tonight1.
According my father, in our family, we are all lonely losers (so everything is not so bad with my brother. He just has to find the right girl).
Yeah, daddy. So long, and thank you for the shit.
He was feeling so attacked. (Maybe because he was the one who quit his job to raise us, not my mother). It was so sad. The saddest was that he was not able to just hear things he don’t want to hear.
On the bright side, my mother was very emotionnally intelligent during this conversation. The drugs she takes to try to stabilize her epilepsy have changed her into an other person as the years go by, a less intelligent, less caring, less everything, a not-really-there person.
I was very touched and happy to find again my mother tonight, my real mother.
1 Due to the fact that my uncle and my aunt were about 3 hours late, without calling. My father was very, very angry. He had a fight with them when they arrived, and spent the entire evening to sulk, not eating with the rest of us. So merry Christmas Eve.
Anyway.
