Mothers of sons

  In our case, the illness did not break out all at once and was not diagnosed as such. It was a slow development of increasing depression during puberty, difficulties at school and then, at the age of 22, the first recognisable psychosis, which led to the first visit to a psychiatrist.

Then there were more and more symptoms of schizophrenia, but no diagnosis. As a family, we were more concerned with organising our daily lives between doctor's appointments, attempts at work and therapists, and how we all lived together. There was little room for feelings of guilt. Rather, the question was: why does this have to happen to us? Our son in particular asked this question daily and repeatedly, always blaming other family members and events, especially the actions and attitudes of his parents, their behaviour and relationship with his younger brothers. It still comes up from time to time, six to eight years later.

At first I rejected everything, probably out of self-protection. Over time, and with better communication skills, I looked for understandable arguments against it, which also helped me in my argument with myself. Sometimes we agree on a point of view, and when we stubbornly don't, I conclude that I have reached my end, so to speak, and suggest that he continue the conversation with the psychotherapist. I do this particularly when he directs his accusations at other, absent members of the family. In this situation, I think it can help to remember that even without illness, many people tend to look for someone to blame when reality differs from their expectations.

Luckily, I personally have not experienced any blame from my social environment, but this is partly because I have a constantly changing work environment due to my job. Friends, neighbours and acquaintances who have known our children from an early age, even before the onset of the disease, have always been very understanding.

With other people, the contact is not so close as to encourage such comments. Of course, the network of relationships narrows over time. The reason for this was many years ago when my husband told me to be careful what I said to whom. When he was up for promotion, a senior colleague allegedly told their mutual boss and others that he should put his own family in order first.

We are more careful about the people we are close to and who we want to be involved in our family situation. When dealing with others, there is always the desire to protect the person with the illness and, of course, to protect ourselves. This can affect our spontaneity in forming new relationships, but the quality of the relationships should actually improve.

Since the two younger siblings of our son with the disease, who are two years apart, are 'perfectly normal', and since I repeatedly sought professional help from the moment I realised that something seemed to be wrong, I have come to the conclusion in these mental confrontations that I acted to the best of my knowledge and belief at the time.

That calms my thoughts, but not my feelings, which come back in the sleepless hours of the night and cannot be explained away. How could you have done things differently, and why didn't you react earlier, more proactively? Why didn't you pay more attention to the symptoms at the time? What would have been recognisable at what point?