My father told me, "No one said life was fair,
Put a smile on your face cause the world doesn't care.
Our family's there to help you through."
I found out that this isn't true.
I wish they'd help - an ear to listen, a heart to care.
They can't understand mental illness from fear.
Fear that it's in their blood and, if it's true,
It can happen to their children, too.
So they blame me, my husband, my son.
It must be something that we have done.
I struggle alone to understand the disease you can't see.
I wish for the person my son used to be.
I'll do anything, fight anyone, learn all I can
I wish I'd known when this illness began.
I could have helped my son sooner, maybe.
I should have listened to the mother in me.
There are days I cry for the future I dreamed he would live.
I cry because sometimes I think I've given all I can give.
I cry because I'm loving a boy who can hurt me so,
Feeling guilty because I can't take more, I want to let go.
Then the days happen when I see him once more,
The son with the gentle soul I adore.
He will fight this fight and I will too.
There's no limit to what a mother will do.
My world has become all about this disease,
Praying to God to help him please.
Tomorrow's another day and I fear how it will go
I have painfully learned that I never know.
Some day I believe we'll rise from this storm,
Until then I'll fight, and I will be strong.