I woke up on a dirty mattress on the floor of a friends house. It's my 16th birthday. A huge milestone in a young persons life. This day marks roughly 3 weeks of me being afraid to be in my own home. Afraid to face the woman who is supposed to love, protect, and inspire me. 

     Has she always been this way? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe it's the drugs. Maybe it was the divorce. I don't know if I've ever been happy. I've never known the love of a parent. I've never felt like I was safe.

     Living with an alcoholic day in and day out changes you. You are automatically on edge. Cleaning up vomit and fecal matter becomes a daily routine. It doesn't effect you like it would "normal" people. Seeing your own mother unconscious and unresponsive would scare most people. But it was my normal. 

     I can't even remember how many times I've had to call the police because I could not find my mother. Or call an ambulance because she has been laying unconscious in her own fecal matter for days. My life was spent in hospitals. Hearing how alcohol abuse had left my mother diseased and on the verge of death. Then the cycle would repeat. Drink, pass out, ambulance, hospital, jail. Drink, pass out, ambulance, hospital, jail. Now she's in prison for theft. If you ask me, she got what she deserved. If anything, she's getting off easy.

     People ask why I am so sad all of the time. People ask why I lash out and why I am always so nervous. Why I don't trust or love or allow myself to live. Well this is why. THIS is why I hide behind a mask EVERY. DAY. OF. MY. LIFE. If I didn't, I wouldn't be alive. The pain, guilt, and anger would have eaten me alive.