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It's vital not to take this personally--I realize that sounds odd!
My mother had schizophrenia, and died in the State Hospital in Camarillo, California when I was 18 (1965). I had finally managed to get her put there against her will. Her symptoms were vivid and horrifying for me, and I suffered severe abuse and neglect that gave me chronic PTSD.
For 30 years my narrative of growing up with her went like this--
*My mother chose to stay nuts, even to die, rather than to be a mother to me.
I finally got enough good therapy (after years of searching for a therapist who would 'get' my childhood) and read enough, and worked with enough psychotic patients (yes, I became a psychologist) to re-write that narrative--
*My mother was helpless against a violent illness that tore her from her dreams of a normal life and made her unable to raise me properly.
I realize that concept is scant comfort to you, when you're in the middle of this horror. You need a mother, and you need her NOW. Just please realize that denying one is ill is a common symptom of schizophrenia (it's called anosognosia). So is repeatedly stopping one's medications. After all, if you're not actually ill, why would you want to keep taking antipsychotic meds that can cause horrible side effects?
I've now had about 10 years of peace. A few times a year I still dream that I've just realized she's still around somewhere, and (in the dream) I set off to find her so I can care for her and make her well.
Then I wake up and realize nothing I or she could possibly have done would have made her well.