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How often do you call your parents?

That's easy. Mom and I speak every day. At least twice a day, if not more.

When I was growing up, people would tell me how lucky I was that mom and I were so close. Only we weren't. We may have spent a lot of time together, that doesn't mean we got along.

Pre-antidepressants, I had like this split personality. And my mom got the brunt of it. The ugliness of it all. She never knew which me she was going to get on any given day.

If she was late, it was the wrath of me. If she was early, it was the wrath of me. Like asking me to go to the store for her? That wouldn't have happened six years ago.

Yes, just six years ago. My mom lived holding her breath for the first 36 years of my life. Never knowing what would set me off. I remember as a kid getting angry about something and deciding that I would never tell her "I love you" again. I just stopped.  To this day those are three words not easily exchanged between us.

I was shamed by it for quite a while after I got on meds and settled down. I could tell sometimes by something she said or did that she was just grimacing. Waiting for me to react.

I am so grateful for these past six years. That I have come to love my mom and to know her as a friend. To discover that I like her. We can joke and talk in a way I would've never imagined before. I thank God for that.

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