I can’t be Me…

I’m trapped.

   
I’ve given up on writing.

I’ve given up on even feeling.

I have to wear a mask everyday. Not by choice.

It’s what is necessary to my daughters mental health and well being.

People consider it me being strong and are proud of me for controlling my demons…

This is not control.

This- this is Purgatory.




I’m never going to wash the filth off, cleanse away the bad.

It’s a part of me.

Always has been, Always will be.

I can’t show the world my pain like I had before.

My deepest desires to mutilate and see blood dripping from my face.

They see me as an unfit mother.

CPS was called once already because of my blog.

So now I bottle my pain and stuff it deeper each day.

Because I know I cannot show the world to help the adults/teens and keep my status as a sane mother and caregiver to our little girl.

I am the only one who can take care of Keira.

Matthew tries but even he admits she can’t have a successful life without me.

Go back to “But What About Me?”  It started there.

There’s no other way of putting it but to say I am gone.

I am mourning the loss of myself.

Cutting and self sabotage has been a part of me since I was a kid just slightly older than Keira.

I’m certain she will have these battles throughout her life but if I don’t allow her to see that it is what her mommy does, than I am sure she has a lot less of a chance at creating these outlets which are by no means healthy,

But are exactly that. Outlets.

A release from the pain.

People troll the Internet to find a weak spot on me and fuck up the life this little family has.

If I show me, at my weakest, and one of those persons decides to call Child Protective Services again, they will have most certainly condemned Keira to a life of pain and failure.

I Am The One. 

The one to care for her. Show her when the time is right, the horrors of battling your own mind. 

So that she may seek comfort in knowing; she may certainly be the only one (out of millions for that matter) who hallucinates at her age.

This, I cannot tell her we have in common.

But the brutal inner battle  between good and evil, I do understand. 

And she will seek solace in knowing her mother has battled that (and still does) her whole life.

Stay Strong.

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