bughead_stories

where are you

This is a trigger warning, mention of depression with a parent and alcohol abuse. This is based on my life, and don't expect a lot of Bughead.
I just needed to write this down.
Thank you.

Jughead p.o.v
I didn't understand it at first.
I was only 12 when my mother stopped being my mother for a while. I didn't understand why she didn't pick me up from school annymore. Or why she didn't made food for me annymore.

I didn't understand why she always would stay in her room, sleeping or crying. Always in the dark, always weirdly crying.

But now I do understand, she was trapped. She was trapped in her own pain, in her own trauma's.

She couldn't wake up every morning annymore. She couldn't be my mother annymore.

Too much happend, it was all to much. And one day she just stopped. She was trapped in her own mind, in her own pain.

And there I was, 12 year old Jughead. Still trying to get momma to eat something, to drink something. But after a while I couldn't do it annymore. It was too much for a twelve year old.

So I called my auntie, she came. She helped me, she kooked for me again, I had someone to talk to, to cry too, someone who was there for me.

Now I'm sixteen, and I know a lot more now. Momma was not only trapped in her mind, she was trapped in her alcohol. She used it a machine to numb her pain.

It worked at first of course, but after a while her body got used to it, and the pain broke trough the wall she made with alcohol. So she drank more, and more and more. Until her body screamed stop, screamed for help.

And she did, she did stop. With so much pain, and tears she stopped. She was my momma again, after a year of her hiding in her room I wasn't used to her being there for me.

I wasn't used to not seeing my auntie annymore but my momma again. She was there for me again, and I trusted her with all my heart.

But now that I'm older I feel that something changed. When my momma is sick the first thing in my mind is that she is gönna go back to her dark empty room. That she is going to leave me again.

Now I hide, I try not too but It's hard. It's hard to hear people say to my mom how sorry they are for her, how they wanted to help her trough her pain, how hard it must have been for her.

But the most painfull part is, that no one in my family once asked me those qeustions. When i was twelve and my momma wasn't there for I wasn't fine.

I still am not fine. I feel a fear in the back of my mind. I try to beat it, to destoy the fear to stop it. But I can't

The voice is still there, the painfull wisper, she is going to leave you again. That is what I think everytime I' in the dark place in my mind again.

But I'm not the coward my momma once was, I'm gonna fight my demons. Well I'm gonna try, eith all in my heart I'm gonna try.

And I believe in myself, because if no one else does. Then I just have to do it myself. Like I did when i was twelve, when I was begging for momma.

Wel momma, I'm not begging annymore.

Well that was that. Sorry for that. I just needed that of my chest. The next one will be bughead I promise.