I always thought that madness was a problem of poets, playwrights, artists … until one day she came to me. It was not easy to accept, because everyone in the family are ”normal”, mentally healthy, but you had to have someone designated to madness, I.
Then comes the crisis after crisis, crying without end, a tunnel with no light at the end and you accept.
Begins to understand that it is having to be so, that is your destiny. And in the end, is not so bad.
After all, when there is no healing, true healing is to accept.