As a traditional housewife, my mother has spent her entire life dedicated to this family. She hasn't worked a single day outside the home, which also made her emotionally fragile. She is not able to face any challenge especially her son's illness.I lived with my mother when Ming was in the hospital, and my father took a long-term leave of absence to stay with Ming. The hospital where Ming was treated is 800km away from our home, so my mom and I could only learn about his condition through messages and phone calls.I was eight at that time. For a little girl, there was no doubt about trusting her mom. It was also hard for a child to discern whether what her mother told her was real or imagined.

  My mom started imagining terrible things.

  Mom often lit incense at home, saying it was to ward off evil spirits. This is something that many Buddhists do in Asia, and I have no doubt about it. But by that time she had become very werid.

  She began to have fantasies about my father cheating on her and questioned him about having other women in the area where Ming was treated. She kept calling my father and brother on the phone to question them about her delusional fears.

  Everyone was tortured by my brother's cancer, and we has no idea why she did this.

  Mom didn't feed me any meal during that time. She thought all the food was poisoned. She just gave me some quick-heat food soaked in warm water and some packaged street snacks.

  She told me that my father was going to kill me and her, and that many people were already filing wsuits to protect her. In fact, these are things that do not exist, but I was too young at the time and could not judge at all. Therefore, I fell into the panic caused by "mother's lies" for a long time, although this was just one of the persecution delusions caused by her mental illness.

  Then it got worse and worse, and my mom sent me to my cssmate's home. She wrote a "letter for help" in crooked handwriting and asked me to deliver it to my friend's parents. Then I did, and the next thing I knew was my friend questioned me for lying, and her parents cut us off. I lost my friends in primary school and was beled a weird, deceitful kid.

  At that time, in 2008, Ming was still alive, and my mother was alone with me during that time.

  One day She told me in the middle of the night that my uncle would pick me up the next day. Then she locked the door herself and slit her wrists inside. Then she gave me a piece of paper with her st words written on it.I was going crazy with fear. I had no idea why she did it, but I can still recall the suffocating fear even now. I knocked on her door frantically in the early hours of the midnight, asking her to come out. I cried and shouted, but she didn't respond to me.After so many years, I can no longer remember how long I cried at her door that night untill she told me in the room that she was fine, but she didn't open the door.The next day I only saw her wrists wrapped in gauze and the blood stains beside her bed.The next day she called her friend, and we went to a rural clinic to stitch up the wound on her wrist. She had a deep cut but was reluctant to go to rge hospital because her delusions told her there are lots of people tring to murder her.I still remember the doctor saying to her, why are you so cruel to yourself? You have such a young child.I've stopped myself from thinking about it now that I'm an adult.But for me, who was 8 years old, I don’t wanna look back how I spent my time at that time. I was in extreme helplessness, fear, and fear. I often resented her for this when I was a teenager, even though I knew she was just sick.But having an 8-year-old daughter face a delusional, babbling, suicidal mother alone, having her bear the immense psychological pressure of her delusions.

  Those events have completely changed my life, my personality, from that moment on.

  The trauma from these events still affects me to this day. I don't know how my mother could be so inconsiderate of my feelings?