The oldest story
So my mother died.
My mother died, and she did it on purpose. She did it when I was sicker than I've ever been. She did it when I was too sick and too far away to be with her.
My mother died, and left me with this big, gaping hole. This chasm of unresolved mother-daughter shit and guilt and grief. My first and oldest wound.
My mother died, and she left me, and I am so very not okay.
I am so not okay.
I am so, so sad, and the only way I'm ever going to get closure is to give it to myself.
My mother died, and she did it on purpose. She did it when I was sicker than I've ever been. She did it when I was too sick and too far away to be with her.
My mother died, and left me with this big, gaping hole. This chasm of unresolved mother-daughter shit and guilt and grief. My first and oldest wound.
My mother died, and she left me, and I am so very not okay.
I am so not okay.
I am so, so sad, and the only way I'm ever going to get closure is to give it to myself.