To be completely honest with you i used to be a pathological liar when i was grade 8-9.
and yet i have been aware of every wrong doing since i was able to walk. I was blamed for marital problems that i had no control over. i was a child. i hate blaming current beings on the extreme past and yet i can authorize that living over 18 years under the roof of my mother was unpleasant.
the worst part is accepting that i will never be allowed to heal. i am the only person who knows that my traumas have ever truly existed. even at the time i was told i was crazy. why is that? why did i get a father who doesnt belief in corporal punishment but a mom who was an expert on hiding it? an expert on manipulating my memory to forget it? an expert on convincing her husband i was a liar?
i have become an unreliable narrator to myself. i am a collection of voices and thoughts which are not my own. i take in abandoned voices like stray cats. i keep them safe and they keep me safe by not leaving. and i struggle to maintain.
i am fully conditioned to be forgotten. I lack integrity in the present. And thus I will love. I will be me best self. Every second may be the last second of my life. i will never be my mother, she serves as an appropriate lesson which will serve me better as an empathetic teacher.