I am My Mother’s Daughter Part 2

Back you retreat! Back behind those walls! Build them higher! Make them stronger! Make them sturdier! But what you don’t realise is that you’ve ended up building a demonic prison with your own tears.

Hell, you’d decorate them with spikes if you could! But they only keep you safe for so long. Behind the fortress walls, you sat in silence, tears rolling down your cheeks and falling onto the backs of your hands as you hugged your knees in desperation staring into the darkness.

A chill forms in your chest, your throat constricts as a golf ball sized lump rises from your stomach and the internal shriek of “No!” begins to wail uncontrollably in your rib cage. You clench your jaw, tightly ball your fists, shut your eyes and try to drown out the screaming. You mutter: “Stop. Please stop. I’ll do anything…just…stop.”

Suddenly the shriek begins to quieten. Curiously you open your eyes and look up to see a pair of feet standing in front of you. They’re a dull shade of crimson,  with neatly rounded toe nails and delicately shaped ankles. As your eyes travel up you see a boy with a red face standing in front of you with pair of defiant eyes burning back into yours. It fills you with fear and anticipation: how did he get behind the walls? Before you can say anything, he silently extends his arm, pulls you up and hoists you up to your feet –  almost as if to save you.

Anger. It has always been there; you just never realised it.

Anger didn’t turn around and say: “I don’t want you because you’re a girl. I never wanted you.”Anger became your best friend, your cheerleader, your guide in the dark, your motivator and your protector. It wrapped you in its fiery arms when the pain intensified. It comforted you as you cried yourself to sleep every night for years and held your hand as you stepped out of the house feeling frightened, self conscious and unwanted. It dried your eyes, gently touched your chin and said: “You can do this, stand up and fight back” when the pain came back in waves of anguish.

It worked. It powered you through dark times. It drove you, focused you and made you strong. You fearlessly strode through the mist of your mind, you shouted down the internal shrieks of pain and braved the world as you both walked hand-in-hand. No one hurt you. No one made you feel helpless, small and worthless.

But then it all went wrong. So horribly wrong. It started when you felt a child-like sense of joy. It blossomed and bloomed in your heart; like a rose. It removed the burns of Anger and said: “You can leave this behind and start to live. Let me show you.”

You took a leap of faith and suddenly you felt like you were flying without the stinging undercurrent that you were so used to. You were soaring in the sky, so high and among the clouds. The air smelled fresher, the internal shrieks began to quieten and the chill in your chest receded.

Anger may have been your best friend and an ally, but it came on its own terms, as you started to fly and leave him behind. You felt the backlash as Anger realised this and retaliated: “How dare you do this to me? After all I’ve done for you, you do to me what she did to you? You’re just like her. You are no different. I will make you pay for this.”

And it did. Little by little, it began to break you down in the same way it built you up. Suddenly you feel empty; just like before but a thousand times worse. It’s like an arm has gone missing; you look around trying to find your best friend but see nothing.Even the soft, velvety petals of hope dried up, withered, fell and left you as the chill returned. The internal cries came back, but less ferocious and with less anguish – now it just sounds like a child pining for comfort.

You function on auto-pilot just to get through the day: “One more hour. Ok: another hour to go. Just get through to lunchtime” you tell yourself as you wake up, get dressed, shove breakfast down your throat and numbly walk out of the house to start another day. It gradually lessens; the emptiness subsides, the quiet moans settle down and a small bud of satin begins to appear in your heart.

But Anger realised what was going on and pummelled you with its tiny red fists: “Don’t leave me! I’m sorry! I promise I won’t hurt you anymore, I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t want to lose you that’s all – please don’t leave me!”

You look at your best friend’s tear stained face, down cast eyes and swollen cheeks. The bud suddenly opens as you take him in your arms and hold him close to your chest. You gently caress his curly hair and say: “I won’t ever leave you. I never will; you are a part of me and we are bound together. But you’re not me; you are only a part of me.” 

This post is the final part in Project AvidScribbler’s “I am My Mother’s Daughter.” Read https://avidscribbler1.wordpress.com/2016/01/05/i-am-my-mothers-daughter-part-1/ here.


3 thoughts on “I am My Mother’s Daughter Part 2

    • Thanks so much for reading and leaving a comment on part 2. You’re spot on with this and yes; while anger might help to some extent it’s only in the short-term and it’s not constructive nor emotionally right to feel in the long-term.
      I’m so happy to hear that you enjoyed reading my blog and I hope that you continue to enjoy future posts 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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