Anxious Poppies

Screw Up

I swear to god, that was my nickname for about, well, all my life. Heard it from friends, family, ex-boyfriends, teachers, counselors, even a therapist, bitch. I never thought much of it except, "well yeah, way to point out the obvious, bud.

Even I call myself Screw Up. Every time I hurt the people I love it's the only thing that repeats itself in my head. Every time I fuck up something important, be it a task, a friendship, or even a relationship, I end up retreating into myself. Those two words on repeat in my mind, eating me up inside out, slowly like a disease.

I remember back to a day I was so high it was hilarious, hilarious for a time, that is. Cough medicine was my poison of choice, figuratively and literally in the sense this shit was actually poisoning me, but that's off topic.

Anyway, I was high as I think I've ever been in my entire life. My mom had called me down and it wasn't easy to sit there and pretend to be sober, so I just acted super tired. I had apparently forgotten to do a load of laundry, she went on to tell me how she wasn't going to stay if we didn't appreciate her. It was one load of laundry and she was losing it. A thought that scared me popped into my head, and instead of keeping my mouth shut, I asked her the question, word for word, "are you going to leave us?" She paused for like, two seconds and said "I was going to but I'm giving you another chance, Rachael," like I was the only one in the house that forgot a chore, "but next time, I'm leaving, and remember that if I do, it's your fault, no one else, but yours."

That was the day I stopped really speaking to my mother. I never knew I was that much of a screw up until that day. My fucking up almost cost our entire family. My mother was going to leave my father, my brother, go against her own religious beliefs, all because I forgot to do a load of laundry.

My fuck ups have cost me a lot in my life.  Better grades, better home life, happiness, the love of my life twice, maybe a third time, friendships, self love, etc.

Maybe one day the screw ups will stop.

But then again maybe one day, pigs will fly. Both have about the same chance of happening.