Today I will have a session with my mom's psychiatrist. At first when she called, I was so relieved. A chance. To be heard. A chance for her to understand more clearly my mom's struggles with reality. A chance for my mom's treatment to get more effective with more knowledge.
And then I started to worry. What if she doesn't believe me. What if she does and she doesn't think my mom can change. Then what? I'm afraid of giving up hope.
This morning I woke up and I feel ready. I feel open and willing to be vulnerable. Risk it. Go in without defences and fears.
This has all been so sad and so heavy. I don't know what today will bring, but through it another inch would be worth it. So, here I go...
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