In the late 1980s, my mother, a brilliant artist, seamstress and interior decorator had her first (known) episode of psychosis.
I was halfway between my 10th and 11th years, not quite a child, not quite a teenager, a vulnerable time for any child. I needed a mother.
Instead, I watched as she devolved into a strange brew of auditory and visual hallucinations, paranoia, hypersexuality and more.
Read more on themighty.com