Why my family hates me

The First Not The Last

I was around 8 years old when it first happened. I had been on school camp. I hated going away from home I had the worst anxiety. My mum gave me this little pink bear charm for my bracelet. We all had one, my mum, dad and brother. Everywhere we went we had them so we were all together. She had promised me when I left that she would be the first thing I saw when I got off the camp bus.
She wasn't there?
None of my family was, everyone else's families were there and I couldn't see any of mine. I waited for 15 mins alone with my teachers while we waited for someone to show up. Then my Nana appeared and I was so disappointed. Which I look at now and i wish I had been more appreciative that she came.
My Nana had told me that mum was unwell and that I would get to visit her soon.
I can't really remember what happened. But I somehow got to the hospital and saw my mum.

She was covered in stitches but no one ever really told me what happened. I just knew she had tried to kill herself. I could tell by the cuts on her arms. They were so deep and the scars never went away. The first thing I asked her was
"What's that cut on your chest?"
She told me she thinks her necklace did it. I never actually figured it out. But I assume it was the paramedics cutting her clothes off.

At the time I was so young and no one ever what happened that day. Well actually no one ever really told me the full story at all.
After that my mum started to go to a mental clinic, well
She went to a few, I actually have a diary entry talking about how she was staying in a room with a homeless person and that she had to hide away all her things. That did NOT help my mum. I don't remember who told me but someone explained that my mum had postpartum depression.

I was 8 and I found out I was the reason my mum didn't want to be alive.