For more than half my life, I've been your parent. Having a parent who suffers with a mental illness -- and an addiction on top of it -- isn't easy. It means I have to be there for you all the time, mentally and physically, to let you know you're not alone.

Of course, I am there for you; you're my mom. It gets tiring, and it means giving a lot of myself. Sometimes I have to watch you go through manic episodes, where you want to do the absurd — jump out of a plane or go bungee jumping. Other times, I've seen you depressed to the point that you don't want to be here anymore. That hurts me the most.

Medicine, something that's supposed to help people, has nearly killed you because of an addiction. You have abused your medicine more times than not, and I have experienced watching you, someone I love, go through mental illness and an addiction.

You have told me countless stories of what people have said or done to you, and the worst part is that I always have to second-guess whether you're telling the truth or not. Your illness and addiction to pain pills has warped your mind in ways you can't even imagine, in ways that make unrealistic situations seem realistic.

I've had to listen to you constantly degrade people in our family just because you think they've done something they haven't, but that's how your mind works. I hate seeing you like this, Mommy. Please make it stop. I want my mom back. Unrealistic, I know; you're too far gone. No matter what happens, I promise to love you through it.

It has been hard and frustrating, but I have watched you go through your illness and learned from it.

I've learned patience. I would never be as patient and understanding as I am if it wasn't for you.

I've learned love. When you have someone who is hard to love sometimes, you learn to love harder and stronger. I refuse to let hate or frustration towards your illness and addiction stop me from loving you. I love you, even if you've been the one to hurt me the most.

I've learned that I will not let addiction continue in my life because I've seen how it drags the best people down with it.

I've learned responsibility. Since I was little, I've felt responsible for you. My responsibility has been to constantly check on you to make sure you're taking the right medicine the right way. I've made sure your doctors aren't just giving you medicine because you asked. I have kept you from feeling alone.

Lastly, I've learned how to care for the broken. Life with you has taught me that I want to continue helping the broken as best as I can. I can understand someone, so that they're not alone. I know their illness or addiction or problems are not made up or dumb because I have known you. Your problems are not made up or dumb.

I love you, Mommy. Thank you for giving me this life because I know I'm strong enough to live it.