Through It All

If I were still alive today, I would have a handsome nephew. He reminds me a lot of myself. He looks like the kid in my baby pictures. I guess that's me, though I was so happy and innocent at the time. He's the child of the first sister I ever had, H.

When I see Mommy-Dearest holding him and taking him out, I can see the pain in her eyes subside a little. I think she thinks I am him, reborn. I'd rather she thought that, then to know the truth about my current existence.

I feel the pain of my certain situation with each passing moment. Yet, I cannot leave. I am forced to watch as they move on and grow older.

I tried to talk to Mommy-Dearest again today. She of course didn't hear me. I said I swear I love you, never forget me. over one-hundred times without taking a breath, but she didn't even turn to face me.

I faded somewhere else suddenly. I was with my second youngest sister now, K. She was working. She kept repeating something to herself. I think she was saying Is there an escape? and Do things ever get better?.

I remember asking myself those very questions billions of times. I told her they do and then I found myself saying something my mother had told me so many times before This is temporary. I didn't search for the answers to my own questions, but I hope she does.

Almost as if she heard me, she pulled herself together and walked back out to greet a customer with a smile on her face. I left a kiss upon her forehead before I was pulled back to a distant memory of before this purgatory.

I planned my death many times, in many different ways. I wrote more goodbye letters than I can count on my fingers and toes. I was hovering over myself. I had been writing one of those goodbye notes. It included apologies and "I love you's." I watched as my past-self signed the letter and stuck in an envelope.

I watched myself picked up a bottle of pills and eat them one by one until I passed out.

No one came in, no one found me dead. I hadn't died that time. I remember waking up a day later with terrible stomach pains and a massive headache. I remember going on as if I hadn't done it, putting the letter away. I thought it was God who saved me. I thought it was his way of telling me, not yet.

I wrote those letters because I wanted my mother to stop me. I wanted her to care more. I wanted her to love me more. I never felt like I had her attention. I never felt like I had anyone's attention.

Though I woke up in terrible form, I still woke up. So, for a while, I had been okay again. I guess happiness in my life never lasted long though.