Laura Zera

No One Helped My Mentally Ill Mother, or Me

The child in me still collapses from the imprinted sorrow of years of isolation.
By Laura Zera

June 22, 2018

When I was 12, my mother cornered me in the bathroom of our suburban Vancouver home. “Your teeth are too yellow,” she said, handing me a can of Comet.

Though disappointed that little about me ever pleased my parent, I understood from past experience how to get through the current predicament. I sprinkled green powder on my toothbrush and did my best to not let any of it go down my throat while I scrubbed.

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/22/well/no-one-helped-my-mentally-ill-mother-or-me.html