In two days it will be the day that my mom died. I am still mad at her after all these years for not believing me about my dad.

sometimes I wonder if she could believe me. Daddy always said that if I told mama she would get sick. The only time I ever tried to tell her was when I was 7. That same night she had her first spell of psychosis. I never tried to tell her again.

I feel like by whole being was smushed and some of the pieces went flying off into space and will never be found again. I have been depressed my whole life. and the first time I can remember wanting to be dead was when I was seven. I just laid down on the playground at school and when they asked me what was wrong.i said I am hoping to be dead.