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Broken Mask

I find myself in the same place I was in only a few weeks ago.

Rattled, body and hair in shambles, burning eyes, smudged mascara and physically trying to pull myself out of the car to complete a simple errand. A simple errand that involves me picking up Valium. Apparently I've gone so far off track and so beneath the surface level that I need a drug to aid my physical pain and anxiety.

I'm in pain and with my son's 20th birthday approaching I am not sure how to survive. I don't have a coping mechanism that I've discovered yet. I have found comfort in only being with my son at his resting place. Simple task of cooking dinner, cleaning the kitchen or even doing a load of laundry seems only too exhausting too me. Even when I do try and get back into routine, I knock myself out with migraines that last more than 1 or even 2 days.

Seriously, what the fuck am I supposed to do here? How the fuck am I supposed to survive this? How does any mother? I don't think they do actually. I think it's a mask they put on that makes everyone believe they survived. Rather, inside that mask is a woman in constant pain unable to cope or relate with the world around them. Perhaps we have to put a mask on for those who need us. I'm trying to put mine on. I really am. But I can't keep something on that my body refuses to wear.

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