If ever there was to be two personalities,
This would be it:
One being me,
One being HER.
Her poison,
Her inner-outer battles
Her jealousy and hate
Of myself and my skills
Have seeped deeper than I thought.
It feels as though my mind
And my body
Has absorbed
Only that.
It’s become a part of me:
A part I LOATHE.
When this part is most present,
My deepest judgement of myself
And my life is all I see.
If there was ever proper depression in my bones,
This would be it.
Except it’s not depression,
It’s the remnants of her
And the mark she left.
The marks her words,
Her seething fury,
Her own judgments of herself,
Her fists,
Left
On me…
In me.
It’s got these pockets of
Seemingly ever-lasting stores.
But maybe they’re just pockets
That need to be emptied.
Maybe they are having this time
Of surfacing and rising,
To be rinsed clean.
Rinsed clean
And replaced with my sole self:
The self of my soul.
Not the self of her shit
Her mess
Her fists.
The self of the being
I am growing to become.
Growing up in a world
Of turmoil and abuse
Or peace and stability,
Or a mixture of both,
Your guidance
Your parent
Your elder,
Leaves a trace of them
For you to find later
When you’re standing on your own two feet.
Some can be good
Some can be shit
But the art of this process
Is deciphering what’s what
And sitting with what you love.
For me
She’s the me
I cannot stand.
It’s the part that
Does my nut.
She’s the me
That thinks the worst
Of myself and my abilities,
Predicts the utmost awful
Of what’s going to happen
To me and my life,
Festers in her own fury
Depression and grump,
Shuts herself away from the world
In a hope she might be forgotten
And able to slip off this ledge
Into the life of nothing pretty
And nothing nice.
Living the life of a victim
And thriving on all the strife.
She’s the words that criticise
Abuse
And hurt.
She’s the words in my head
That sound EXACTLY like the shit
She would say to herself,
Or the shit she would throw my way.
Profound as it is to realise
And to discover
That these thoughts in your head
Aren’t actually yours,
They’re that of your mothers,
It doesn’t stop them
Kicking up a fuss
And leaving a storm
Of fury and hate
With no extinguisher
But that of your own taste.
Your taste for freedom,
Taste for a life without
Her in the middle
Causing such a fucking fight.
A taste of a life
That the person who
Brought hell into the old one
Is nowhere to be seen
In this new time.
When our cookie of stability crumbles,
Our inner critic does too.
When our ability to cope
Seems a distant thing of the past,
Our parts from the life we have led until now
Rise up and yell,
Only to then dwindle and be
Rinsed clean of their power and hate,
Replaced with a grounded awareness
Of all that you are
And all that you’ll become.
When she’s here it’s like poison
When she isn’t its like coming home.
In that case folks,
I will aim for the latter,
And see this time
As a Detox From My Mother.
Love.
I glad you’ve figured out who’s negative voice it is and let that detox begin!! xo
Thank you sweetpea! Bring on this bitching detox. turns out it’s already happening anyway! xx
oh ya bring it!
Knowing what a proper caring & loving mother is like, it breaks my heart that yours is so awful. Mothers are supposed to be our teachers, our nurturers, our inner voice that we can go to to recall places of beauty & warmth and emotions of love & support. To grow up without that can be catastrophic BUT I’m proud of you that you’ve realised how toxic she was for you and your cutting that thread of connection. It’s something that you certainly don’t need, and there are truly wonderful people in this world that can show you the support and love you didn’t get from her and augment that love which you’re finding for yourself. xx
You’re such a wise soul. These words brought tears to my eyes, thank you love. I really do believe that we can meet the needs we never had met in our childhood, with loving people around you in your later years. At 25, I am officially making that my project. Despite the crazy messed up years, I really believe there is no such thing as it screwing you up for your life to come. Sure it might add some shit you have to deal with and pain or grief you have to feel, but I see that there are people that come into your life offering you the love, unconditional love, that you never had. It’s funny, today I was saying how I really feel like I am suddenly learning all these key life lessons that many learn or get as they grow up, but with a mother who lived for abuse, this didn’t happen. But, it is now and that is something I am so grateful for.
So much love to you, peach. I was also thinking today how glad I was that I found you on here! I feel like I’ve known your face for years. xox
Inner detoxing seems to be… as your images are beautiful! XX
Ah, thank you love! These kind of detoxes are so often not thought of as beautiful, yet I am slowly starting to see that actually all this vulnerability, pain and change is actually the definition of beautiful! Lots of love xx