Parent and Child

A Facebook friend's poem made me think, and this is what I thought.

It makes me think of a bit of my relationship with my son. I have lived with mental illness (bipolar disorder, incorrectly diagnosed until I was 38) and although I tried to be a good mother when he was younger my problems were often overwhelming. I think I'm a good mother now but my troubles put me behind where I should be. We live in a rather marginalized fashion and are trying to both do things to improve our lot in life. My hope is that his kids, should he have them, will not have the kind of chaotic life he did in his childhood. He can talk about it with me and he isn't angry any more, but he says he feels he didn't have much of a childhood, which is heartbreaking. His father (whom I've been divorced from since 1994, but who in some fashion I've often ended up having to take care of in one way or another) has mental problems too and I've always been the more mature parent--which is scary, since for most of my life I didn't feel like a functioning adult!

Wow, that was a rant--hope you don't mind. The poem brought things out.