I managed to get home, but it was already too late. I had known my mother was drinking again, but there was this hope inside that it wasn’t that bad… but it was. She had fallen and broken her nose, her eyes ringed in bruises, her face looking even more foreign to me than it had before. How can you look at someone you’ve known your entire life, your own mother, and barely recognize them? Even her eyes… her green eyes, the ones I loved and wished that I had all my life, they’re not green anymore… they’re just… dark.
After that, I was enraged. Of course, I would find anger the quickest. How could she have fallen, broken her nose, avoided the ER, and no one knew anything? I was so mad, but I eventually let it go. My grandparents are old and they have their own worries. Besides, this isn’t terribly out of character for them.
The visit itself wasn’t bad. Maybe when I’m feeling a little less like this, I’ll be able to put it here so I can remember all of it. Right now, all I need is release. I have to try, try to put what I feel somewhere so that it’s real and I can feel it. The pain I feel right now… I can’t put it into words, I can’t speak of it. It just hurts.
I’ve spent so long being angry. It’s the only emotion I’ve ever been able to grasp fully. I’ve known anger since I was little, I’ll probably always have issues with it… but now? I don’t feel angry at all. It’s the first time in my life… I don’t feel angry. I just want to cry. I want to cry until I can’t possibly cry any longer. I’m not someone who cries, it makes me uncomfortable. I’m not vulnerable, I’m not a victim, I’m a rock. When everyone else falls down, I pick them back up. Even when I was little, I was doing it without realizing it. It’s who I’ve shaped myself to be–I’m a rock. Everyone relies on me to be the one who stands tall in the face of whatever comes my way and to my merit, I’m strong. I’m damn strong.
Even the strong feel weak at times and right now, I am at my weakest. I feel like a brittle branch in the face of a storm. I feel like I’m going to snap if there’s anymore pressure thrown my way. I hate it. It’s unfamiliar to me. I know, that in the end, I’ll manage, I’ll persevere. It’s what I was made to do–but it doesn’t make it any easier when this happens.
It’s hard when you have no one to turn to. I’ve done it to myself and I’ll face this problem for the rest of my life, I realize that. I love my husband, but when it comes to this, he doesn’t understand. He just sees me as this person who has overcome so much, how can this bother me? It’s just my mother, she’s just an alcoholic… but this is something I’ve battled with for a long time. No one understands, no one. I spent so much time being outwardly angry that it’s all anyone ever saw. Even my husband doesn’t understand now, he’s painted a picture in his mind and it’s the only one he knows.
No one understands that I had to grow up very early and that despite that, anger is my core emotion. It’s the one I show readily and easily. It’s the only one I fully understand within myself. But, I’m an adult now and anger isn’t acceptable. Everyone feels angry, that’s fine, but throwing it out and just being blatantly enraged is no longer acceptable. My vision is clearer now and I see where I’ve messed up.
I know my mother better than anyone and that’s what hurts me the most. I understand her. I see the pleas for help. She’s no longer spitting venom, she’s admitting she’s had a problem, she even went into detox after being rushed to the ER. She fell down the stairs and nearly killed herself. But her environment, her mental state… they’re not helping her get better.
It’s my own fault for being so angry and for keeping all my other emotions hidden. I don’t share them. Oftentimes, it’s because I can’t. Words fail me when it comes to my true emotion and I’m left with no ability to communicate. The only thing I can say is look at the picture above, as it says everything that I cannot…
Unfortunately, all anyone will see are cats… just cats.