Please Understand Why

Your Daughter

Dear Casey,

          You're my mother, my rock, my best friend. The sky represents my love for you. So vast and unending. Filled with many treasures. I know at times you do feel bad for not being the best mother but that's okay. I don't want you to be. That's not who you are. I know I didn't have much of a childhood and had to grow up quickly but that's only because you are sick. It hurts watching the woman I used to idolize go and fall downhill. Watching you suffer and get worst over the years hurts, knowing I can't do anything to help is worse. I know you have issues so I had to miss school to help you out because if not there's a possibility I would come home and you would be gone. I'm the only one in the house who know hows to deal and work with you when you have an episode. But a child I may be but a child I feel not. I feel like an adult and I'm drowning in responsibility. I have to take care of you and make sure you are okay, do house chores, cook meals and then keep good grades on top of all that. It's stressful. I know I come to you for everything and we talk about any and everything. Even stuff a lot of parents shy away from talking with their kids, like sex, drugs, blowjobs, affairs. We're very open with each other and I like that we have that bond. But our bond is slowly losing its grip on us. I don't like talking to you at certain times of the day because at these times your brain is like putty. It's because of all the medicine your doctors have you on. It's hard and hurtful to watch you stumble around and slur words and speak a new form of gibberish and nonsense. It makes me disgusted. I used to look up to you. I wanted to be like you. The woman who wore pretty shirts and pencils skirts and high heels. I want to be the woman who worked 'x' amount of hours just to support her kids no matter what. Now I don't want to be you. The woman who never leaves the house who can't even wear heels anymore because you're unstable. The woman who just constantly feeds herself and sits around in sweats and t-shirt. You used to be so good with computers now it's like a foreign language to you. I hate having to go anywhere with you. You have missed out on so many halftimes that I performed in the color guard. But you still ask so much of me and god forbid if I get a low grade in a class because I cant do the work because I'm doing something for you. I don't know anymore momma. I love you. But its hard watching you slowly kill yourself. I don't want to lose you.

Your Daughter,

Unknown