Subcon Chronicles

Pages from Her Diaries

I finally convinced myself to read a few pages from my dead mother's diary. Maybe it's an obsession, a need to feel like she's still alive and with me again. *shrugs* I don't know, I don't think I even care anymore.

But what I do know, is that I both miss and hate my mother for leaving me so young. For opting out of my life because she was too weak to stand and fight for herself or for her babies. Even in my thoughts, I know that's a cruel thing to think, but she left me no choice but to be angry, a state I can't seek to shake or direct to only the dead. What she's left in her wake is my anger, directed at anyone and everything, including the non-living.

My father is annoyed with my recent behavior, but I no longer care, because he had a lot to do with my mommy's choice to not stay. Since I found her diary, my thoughts of him have really become shaken. He more than anyone, gets the brunt of my pain, since he is the one who hurt her so badly and repeatedly, that her mental state could do nothing but quake. Through these pages, I can see the life my mother once lived, through the highs, the lows and even the in-betweens, I get a sneak-peek into the woman my mother was and the shell of a human, she eventually became. I only wish she could have read me these pieces herself, maybe then, just maybe, she could have been able to escape the hold and stand strong beside me again.

September 29th, 2017 - The Abyss

It's craving my attention, nudging me constantly to engage it in dialectics once again.

Regardless of my supposed strength, it still manages to overpower me and bend me to its will; to embark on a journey along its lonely abysmal descent.

To commit to its will, means to lose myself. But there's so little of me left, that I fear that there isn't much left to give. With each unsteady step into its abyss, it takes just another piece of my identity, personality and normalcy; forcing me to shed further, the simple joys, actions and peaceful traits that could once bring a pleasant smile to my face. It's a feat trying to recognize the individual looking back at me from the broken glass pieces. It's an even greater challenge for me to maintain the 'face' those closest to me have become accustomed to scrutinizing.

But it continues to call me, jerk me, so that my eyes are ensnared within its depths. That way it can churn my thoughts and force my body to become pliant and easily led.

I've fought this fight way too many times before, which is why today I just no longer care, I have lost all my will to fight its restraint. The hope that I will eventually win and somehow find myself within, increasingly decreases, as each unbearable day begins. So why should I bother to fight anymore? I simply cannot manage to do this anymore. Like sheep being led to the slaughterhouse, I embrace its hold and make the descent, no longer struggling, since my fire has long sizzled. I follow its lead and venture further in as my will and strength gradually decay.

I know it will return, should I succeed in escaping its current hold. It never really leaves, just bides its time, while strengthening. So before I do more harm than good, I relax into its embrace and go with its flow.

No pressure.

No power.

No desires to depart the stronghold I'm under

No real reason to deliver myself from this abyss of dolour.

I give in.

My mother had given up on us from before that faithful day and it hurts me to think that our love for her, MY love for her was simply not enough. She made sure to give up when we weren't around, she knew we weren't going to be with her at that time, since it was his weekend. But when she chose to depart this live, so close to a day we knew should have been celebrated. A call I planned to make with a broad smile on my face, our first special occasion, separated only by our location. Or so I thought. She chose to use her time alone to merely slip away.

THIS is why I hate HER, this stupid book won't bring back my mother!! It colours the image I have of her and makes me even more annoyed by her.

I hate HER!!

I f&@ing hate my mother!!

The woman who left me, so now I have no choice but to live with some other. Her replacement, she once joked.

Yet all I really want to do now and forever, is to simply curl up with my mother...

...and cry.

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From the ashes...

Subcon