Another one of my random musings - so apologies if you've read them before and wished you hadnt
What I keep wondering is if it is inevitable that we take after our parents, in some way?
My mum has suffered from depression and anxiety, for years - she cared for HER mother, suffering a breakdown in the process. She always said to me 'I'll never get like my mother' (my nan) but lo and behold - she is a complete carbon copy.
I can hear my nan in her voice - the constant moaning and complaining, everything black .. nothing good in anything. I can see my nan in her actions - the perpetual wringing of hands and body as taut as a piano wire with anxiety.
I seem to have a very different persona to hers when she was my age - so is it a possibility that I will morph into her, as I get old?
Its a depressing thought. The only thing that keeps me optimistic is that I have always been, inherently, an optimistic person. My glass is always half full - things will always get better ... someone up there likes me (even in my darkest hours).
My hope is that I am more like my dad - placid, accepting ... chilled out. But he's the one who has developed dementia.
Am I doomed to be one or the other?!
Blimey, that's depressing ... sorry!
What I keep wondering is if it is inevitable that we take after our parents, in some way?
My mum has suffered from depression and anxiety, for years - she cared for HER mother, suffering a breakdown in the process. She always said to me 'I'll never get like my mother' (my nan) but lo and behold - she is a complete carbon copy.
I can hear my nan in her voice - the constant moaning and complaining, everything black .. nothing good in anything. I can see my nan in her actions - the perpetual wringing of hands and body as taut as a piano wire with anxiety.
I seem to have a very different persona to hers when she was my age - so is it a possibility that I will morph into her, as I get old?
Its a depressing thought. The only thing that keeps me optimistic is that I have always been, inherently, an optimistic person. My glass is always half full - things will always get better ... someone up there likes me (even in my darkest hours).
My hope is that I am more like my dad - placid, accepting ... chilled out. But he's the one who has developed dementia.
Am I doomed to be one or the other?!
Blimey, that's depressing ... sorry!