That’s what my mother said to me the other night when I had another episode after we had our weekly dinner with them. 

“Believe me, mother, I try my hardest. Even when you see me boiling with rage, believe me when I say that I shout at myself at the same time to stop.

Believe me that right after I calm down and I am alone, I spend hours rehashing the moment in my head telling myself how I could have gotten it wrong again. I should have known to take a step back and breathe.

Believe me, I am aware of what a monster I am to everybody. I do not want to be like this. In my solitary moments I punish myself. 

I want to have that power of being in control of myself in specific moments. But, I can’t. 

Why don’t you believe me when I tell you I need help?”