As I stared myself into the mirror, I was certain that I was no longer happy with my own reflection. I hated the woman I'd became. Deep down inside, I always knew, but I had to put up a front because there was nothing worse to me than being proved wrong.
I knew I needed to change, for I was helping the Devil write my terrible ending. I'd pushed away all the people who loved me, because I couldn't find love from within.
If you'd ask me if I'd turn out like this 20 years ago, I probably would have laughed in your face, but here I was. Hair sticking to my head looking like carpet. I was a mess, a hot one.
I had it all, and threw it away. A man who loved me, a beautiful daughter, money, you name it.
It's funny how a substance worth so little, could take a person's world and turn it upside down.
I should have cherished the moments in life that were meaningful, but instead, I did some dirt that I'm afraid cannot be cleaned up, no matter how hard I try.
As crazy as it sounds, I loved my daughter, and her father, Nicolas. I had a hell of a way of showing it. My jealousy for my own creation, clouded my feelings, so I treated her in the worst way possible.
I wish I could take back all the things that I'd done, and get a different start. But I know it doesn't work like that.
As I checked myself into rehab, I said a silent prayer. I knew this was an only option, if I wanted even an ounce of my life back.
I was tired. Tired of letting men do to my body whatever they wanted for a "fix." Tired of living alone, wishing one day my daughter would come home, so I could just look her in the eyes and apologize several times. Tired of waking up, scratching and feigning for something that would only ease the pain I felt temporarily. Cause Lord knows, I was hurting.
I needed to get back on track. One day I'd have to face Delilah, and own up to everything.
I prayed over and over that one day she'd find it in her heart to forgive me, because I know what it feels like to grow older without your mom.
Hell, who was I kidding? I never was a "mom" to her. I should have loved her, taken care of her, and showed her how a woman is to be treated by a man. Instead, I down talked her, practically sold her to other men, and made her feel less of a human.
It hurts that when I look at her, I see so much of myself. I was a carbon copy of my own mother, who I hated.
Maybe it made it worse, that I had no father in my life. Maybe that's why I was so jealous of the relationship Nicolas tried to have with Delilah.
"How are you today, Marge." My nurse walked into my room.
"I'm fine." I lied, scratching the top of my head.
"This is going to be hard, I'm letting you know now. You will have withdrawals, but we're here to help you along the way." She patted me on the shoulder. I gave her a soft smile as she walked out of the room.
Laying down on the uncomfortable mattress, I realized how cold this place was. I'd been here for less than an hour, and already didn't want to be here a second longer, but I knew I had to be strong.
I bit the inside of my lip. Deep down inside, I wanted a fix now, but I knew running back to what I'd even came here for in the first place, was no longer acceptable.
"You can do this." I told myself.
