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A few days ago my mom sent me a screenshot with the caption, “From your dad to me for you.” It was about displaying art at the county fair, such a simple thing, but it landed in a complicated place. Since we haven’t spoken in over four years, my first thought was oddly basic, like well, I’m obviously not dead to him, something made him think of me, something made him send it along. And then the second thought came right after… why not just send it to me directly. Maybe I already know the answer. Some people’s pride is stronger than their willingness to repair anything, and some stubbornness runs so deep it prefers distance over honesty, even when it costs connection. What makes it stranger is watching the rest of the family structure adjust around that silence. My mom, who he treated like shit for years, now helps him from a retirement home managing his meds and appointments.. My sister is managing parts of his money. Everyone still orbiting the same story, just from different angles. Families are messy, estrangement is messy, but sometimes it's for the best.

#LiveYourDream #CreativeHealing #ThisIsMyStory #Theater #Musicals #ToxicPeople #StrippedAMemior #MentalHealthMatters #FromStageToPage #HealingThroughArt #VulnerablyBold #Depression #Manipulation #Bipolar #BreakingTheStigma #TheaterAndTherapy