Light fog rises above the trees, the mist sweeping above the mountain tops. The sky is a soft pink, tints of baby blue and lilac blending perfectly, almost as if the stillness is ok. There is silence. Silence through my darkened house. Silence between my mother and I. Silence in my mind. My throat is sore from the angry flares of shouts that spewed out just minutes before. This way of life is common…almost normal really.
The view in my backyard, a view that is calm and cool and still, makes me want to run away, disappear from this insane family that is anything but normal. But the fact of life slowly sets in. Where would I go? How could I possibly leave? How would I survive? Of course the doubts out room my rash decisions, so I sit silently. My stomach has been growling for hours, but I’ve decided not to eat. Not wanting to encounter my mother…and not wanting to gain a single gram of weight are the leading factors to this. Her words are vicious, her expressions cutting right through me. I pretend not to care. I act cocky, rude, disrespectful. If she sees the pain behind my eyes, she wins. If she wins, she continues just because she knows she’s gotten to me. She knows she is achieving her goal of getting under my skin and making me feel worthless. It is a sick game she plays, but she is very good at it.
The sky has turned a deep lilac blue. The warmth of the previous colors have vanished. All that is left is the nervous feeling within myself. I haven’t talk to my mother in almost a year. And not talk as in tell her my schedule…talk as in open up and express any kind of emotion or information about my feelings. She says, “you can talk to me.” But this is another trick of hers. If you talk, she’ll store the most painful confessions and use them as weapons against you to trigger pain and anger. She has done this numerous times to me, and every time, the feeling gets worse.
The fact is, I don’t know when I stopped living. I know I’m not really happy…but I have goals and I still try…but my life has become such a…mess. My pain was hidden in the bottles of 12am beer. My tears hidden on pillow case and in dry heaves that will always remain a secret. My mother broke away my security, slowly breaking away my confidence so that I was only a shell of who I once was. I’ve kept to myself for over a year now. I haven’t been close to my mother for so long and the truth is…even if we’re doing ok, I still cringe when she tries to hug me.
The sky is dark and blank…and so is my mind. I wonder if the night will finally swallow me whole.
