Tuesday, May 31, 2016

When I Look in the Mirror

When I look in the mirror I see my mother, I see her features in my face, I see her hands in my hands, I see her cheeks in my cheeks, I see her body shape in my own. My memories remember her pain, her sickness, her abuse, her addictions, her excuses. So, in the mirror I also see the life she could of had. I think that's why I push so hard to be strong, because she was so weak. Why the very thought of doing drugs or popping pills makes me sick, how I'm independent and refuse to allow anyone to abuse me, to use me, to make me feel helpless and trapped. This is my only way to save a piece of her, by saving myself. When I look in the mirror I see my mother... Free, happy, healthy, and I'm sure inside, beneath the victim, beneath the MS, beneath the pills she'd be happy to see me be all the things she couldn't. I may not be able to see her, or have a relationship with her, but I'll always love her. (Damn, this was hard.)

No comments:

Post a Comment