The Strains of Family Bonds: Reflections on My Role in the Strains

It was always apparent to me that the family I cherished so much was being pulled apart by a single thread - myself. My parents, both diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS), a rare autoimmune disease, have shared their journey with me, which includes their unique circumstances and the challenges they faced.

Unique Circumstances and Diagnosis

My parents, both suffering from MS, which is doubly rare, met in high school and decided to leave their abusive households to create a life together. They traveled the world, attended several colleges, and ultimately planned for a family. The disease, which began to manifest almost simultaneously, introduced complexities into their lives that were beyond their control. My mom was the first to develop MS, an event that was ironically believed to have sparked my dad's interest in studying the disease in mice. This intriguing connection only added to the intrigue of their shared history.

After years of battling the disease, they moved back to California, where the pressure of starting a family despite the disease's progression was immense. Eight long years later, I was born, marked from the beginning as the catalyst for yet another chapter of strain in our family's dynamic.

Challenges and Personal Struggles

From the onset, my presence contributed significantly to the challenges my mother faced. Carrying me to term caused substantial and permanent damage. As I grew, my behavior only compounded these issues. I was rebellious and uncontrolled, echoing the tensions between my parents and exacerbating the challenges they faced daily. My mother, who had already succumbed to severe MS symptoms, saw her condition worsen due to my actions and emotions.

Recalling those moments of despair, I remember when my mother had to stop her career as a nurse and quit her work as a physical therapist. I can still vividly picture her struggling to get out of bed in the mornings, an indication of the extent of her suffering. I often found myself in my room, curled up in a ball, angry and crying, biting my knees and pulling my hair, pleading with God to take my mother's MS away so she could regain her strength.

In time, I realized the gravity of my actions. It was not my brother, my struggling father, or the state of my parent's marriage that caused my mother's condition to worsen; it was me. I was the one who continuously stressed her out, instigating more damage to her already fragile health.

The Turning Point and Self-Reflection

The realization hit me when I was in the car with my father, discussing my grades for senior year. Tears welled up in my eyes as I grappled with the realization of my role in my mother's struggles. She was not just one person to me but two - the cool, athletic version of her from my childhood and the sad, withdrawn woman she has become.

There are still wonderful times we share, such as mother-daughter trips, and I cherish those moments deeply. However, I also recognize the aspects of her life that are beyond my reach, my reliance on her has diminished. This experience has taught me a profound lesson about self-reflection and the impact of my actions on those around me.

My mother's fear of the world is in part my fault, as I contributed to making her more vulnerable and weak. Reflecting on this journey has been both challenging and hopeful. The path ahead is marked with opportunities for growth and healing, both for myself and for my family. Understanding the role I played in the family's struggles is the first step towards positive change and rebuilding the bonds that were once frayed.