Mental Health Friday #13

Mental Health Friday #13

image

I just recently read an article on Jezebel titled “A Toast to All the Brave Kids Who Broke Up with Their Toxic Moms” which really hit home for me. I know this isn’t like my typical happy, upbeat posts; but it’s something I’ve dealt with since I can remember and I know I’m not alone.

I love my Mother to the end of this Earth, that will never change. But it’s hard to love someone who doesn’t love themselves. Growing up, my sisters and I have had to deal with what the article referred to as a “broken woman”. Many terrible things have happened to my Mother, which I won’t go into detail about. But the most impactful was the loss of my brother when he was 2 (in ’89). I hadn’t been born yet, in fact my mother hadn’t even met my Father yet (my two sisters and brother have a different Father). I’ve always wished I was alive to meet my brother, but at the same time I’m not sure how I would have handled his death. My Mom’s addiction developed shortly after.

In the late 90’s, she started attending a methadone clinic to attempt getting off the drugs she was abusing. If you’re not familiar with methadone, it’s a medication usually used to relieve severe pain. But it’s also used to prevent withdrawal symptoms in people who are addicted to opiates. Little did everyone know that this would be a new addiction in itself.

Obviously I was never told anything about this when I was younger, but I remember being able to notice some of the side effects of the methadone. The most noticeable being extreme drowsiness. I can remember around the ages of 7-10 I would go to her house every Friday to stay for the weekend. I’d be sitting with her at the kitchen table trying to tell her all the things I did in school that day and she’d be hunched over, passed out. I didn’t think too much of it as a child, I just thought “Oh, Mommy’s really tired”. However, I did think it was strange that she would start to fall asleep immediately after I would shake her and wake her up. It got progressively worse as I got older. When I was around 12, my grandfather passed away (my Mother’s Father). We all loved him very much, but my Mother especially. She fell into an even deeper depression after this and along with being extremely tired from the methadone, she never got out of bed, she was barely eating, and just didn’t take care of herself in general.

I have limited memories of actually doing things and spending quality time with her. Instead, I watched her wither away from being a beautiful, energetic woman to a lifeless shell of that woman. I was always so envious of other girls my age growing up who had good relationships with their Mothers. In my early teens, I sort of resented her for choosing a life of drugs over the possible relationships she could have had with her three girls. As an adult now, I just had to accept that she is so lost in her own depression and addiction, that she doesn’t even realize what she’s sacrificed. Those childhood years are something that we won’t get back, and neither will she. I don’t hate her, I don’t think I ever could. I’m just disappointed in a way.

Anyone who has a family member or friend who is an addict, I can relate. You want to help them so badly to create a better life for themselves. You want them to realize that drugs aren’t an acceptable coping mechanism for their problems, that there are other options. But like I said before, you can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped. They have to want it for themselves. You can’t sacrifice your own happiness and wear yourself down in hopes of “fixing” them. As painful as it is, you have to let it be if they are not willing to change. All you can do is create a better future for yourself. I know I have the power to be the Mother that mine wasn’t, for my own children in the future.

This week’s story was sent in by Amber who blogs at What Makes Me Amber.wordpress.com where she blogs about health, wellness, (yummy) recipes and Life in general.


If you’d love to contribute and share your story on Mental health Friday, I’ld love to have you. Let’s join hands to talk about Mental illness and blur out the stigma associated with it. You can contact me on My email address: mykahani@yahoo.com . For more information, visit this post.

IMAGE CREDIT: HealthyPlace.com.

Advertisements
Writer’s Quote: Kindness

Writer’s Quote: Kindness

IMG_0248

I found this incredible quote above by Nikita Gill and I thought I had to share it. We are not always kind to ourselves. We could be the cherry on top of every other person’s cake but when it comes us- to being kind to ourselves, forgiving ourselves, we are our own worst enemies.

The poem I’m sharing today as part of Writer’s quote/poem Wednesday, is written by undoubtably one of the greatest poet ever- Maya Angelou. It talks about forgiveness. And according one analysis by Prezi.com, the poem is all about a mother, acknowledging forgiveness with open arms.

This poem talks about a daughter returning home after committing (who knows what) atrocity, and amidst the blackness of the night, finds the forgiving and comforting arms of her mother, open, blameless and ready to receive her.

The Mothering Blackness by Maya Angelou

She came home running
back to the mothering blackness
deep in the smothering blackness
white tears icicle gold plains of her face
She came home running

She came down creeping
here to the black arms waiting
now to the warm heart waiting
rime of alien dreams befrosts her rich brown face
She came down creeping

She came home blameless
black yet as Hagar’s daughter
tall as was Sheba’s daughter
threats of northern winds die on the desert’s face
She came home blameless.

 

S- Success

S- Success

IMG_5400

If I could do- half the job,
My mother did- in raising me,
For the young ones I am yet to birth,
Who’d look to me before anyone else,
In the matter of life,
In the matters of death,
In the matters of love,
Or religion, I’d be first.
If I could instill,
Half the morals she did.
Then- I will know
I have indeed succeeded.

No, there is no glitch in timing, today is indeed supposed to be letter Q but I opted to post on letter S. The reason is I have already written this a while ago, its just been sitting in my draft waiting to be posted. And also, I am exhausted, it’s been a filled up day and I haven’t had the chance to write a poem. As I type this, I’m on the bed and ready to drop off any moment from now. Good night.

Flash Fiction: Off Limits

Flash Fiction: Off Limits

2017-04-02-13-11-59

Johnny raced to his mother, clutching her hand and dragging her to the riverbank,
There mama”, he pointed at what appeared to the ordinary eyes as a slow-moving swamp river, with over grown bushes on the sides.
“Isn’t that the most beautiful river mama, like those of fairytales.”

“Oh Johnny,” his mum ruffles his hair, “there’s nothing remarkable about a muddy water.”
Johnny looked up at his mother in bewilderment. Why couldn’t she see what he was seeing.
But ma,” he protested until she pried him off the site reluctantly, telling him not to let his imaginations get the best of him.

That night, under starless skies with a solitary half-moon shining, Johnny’s mother made her way to the river bank, the same one Johnny had seen.
“I know what you are trying to do”, she spoke into the flowing river, her face as fierce as an angry gypsy,
So let me make something clear, my kid is off limit. And I’m sure neither one of us wants me to come back here again, because that won’t be pleasant.”

With that, Johnny’s mother made her way back to the camp knowing the intended recipient had got the message.


word count: 198. This Flash Fiction is in response to a photo prompt hosted by the social underground.

Writer’s Quote: Mother’s Smile

Writer’s Quote: Mother’s Smile

IMG_5354

It’s another Wednesday, which means, it’s time for Writer’s Quote and Poem. I noticed on Facebook, a lot “happy Mother’s Day” was trending about two days ago. I guess it was Mother’s Day in my side of the world. In honours of that, I would like to dedicate today’s quote and the poem below, written by Michael Burch, to all the parents striving and sacrificing,  with their time, their sweat and their little wealth to make sure their children always have enough and more, with regards love and happiness. I hope you like the poem below.

Mother’s Smile by Michael Burch
For my wife, Elizabeth Harris Burch, and my mother, Christine Ena Burch

There never was a fonder smile
than mother’s smile, no softer touch
than mother’s touch. So sleep awhile
and know she loves you more than “much.”

So more than “much,” much more than “all.”
Though tender words, these do not speak
of love at all, nor how we fall
and mother’s there, nor how we reach

from nightmares in the ticking night
and she is there to hold us tight.

There never was a stronger back
than father’s back, that held our weight
and lifted us, when we were small,
and bore us till we reached the gate,

then held our hands that first bright mile
till we could run, and did, and flew.
But, oh, a mother’s tender smile
will leap and follow after you!

Writer’s Quote: Mother to son

Writer’s Quote: Mother to son

IMG_5326

It’s Wednesday, which means, it’s time for writers quote Wednesday again. Today, I picked the quote above that speaks about “giving up”, which is a topic I believe is timely and cannot be said enough. The poem I chose to go with the quote is one by one  of my favourite poets, Langston Hughes. 

The poem is about a conversation between a mother and her son; it’s actually a one sided conversation, with the mother doing all the talking and the son, I envision, is taking it all in, in silence. A scene I am all  too familiar with, but I digress. Below is the poem, 

Mother To Son by Langston Hughes

Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.

But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.

So, boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps.
‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

Don’t feel shy to share your thoughts on the poem and let me know if you are already familiar with the Poem. 

Day 19: Family…

Day 19: Family…

image.png

She’d wake me-
in the middle of the sleep,
With a smack,
Girl! Draw your skirt down;
Don’t you know,
We are not the only ones,
On this land,
You, cover those thighs.

It maybe dark,
But it don’t mean “they” can’t see us.

And that was my mother…

I’d wake her-
In the middle of the night,
She’d groan,
Go meet your father.
My stomach’s growling-
“Mama, I really am sick”
Go meet your father!

She’s spent her fair share
Of waking in the night, she’d say-
When I was a baby.
It’s his turn now,
To live the joys of fatherhood;
And that was my mother.

She raises six kids,
Singlehandeldy in the day,
So night is all hers.
She makes up rules which
Only she’s allowed to break,
Yet, we still love her.


Day 19: Family (December Poetry Challenge). This is the 3rd poem I’ve written regarding this prompt. The first two just seemed too mushy, and in a way unbelievable, it felt like the family I depicted was perfect and we all know that’s far from reality. I’m having an exam tomorrow so it was fun to write something a bit lighthearted for a change.

I am my mother’s daughter

I am my mother’s daughter

 

Raised with the fire,
Of a self learned woman;
Cradled under the shade,
Of bamboo trees;
Laid on an arched back,
Whilst toiling clay lands;
Don’t mind, when I declare-
I am my mother’s daughter.

Waved off to school,
With hands- worn from milking,
Fed whilst her stomach,
Growled of hunger;
Appeased with a smile stamped,
On a face darkened from wood’s soot;
Don’t mind, when I declare,
I am my mother’s daughter.

Raised her girls to be queens,
In a land ruled by men;
Bore the brute of words,
For demanding education;
Believed- in their strength while
The world tried to break them;
Don’t mind, when I declare,
I am my mother’s daughter.

The beautiful painting above is the artwork of Claudia Tremblay

Writer’s Quote: Memories

Writer’s Quote: Memories

 

image

MEMORIES
And there we were,
Under the night’s blanket;
Wrapped around your arms,
In a loving embrace;
Swearing, I’d never fall in love again,
It’s just a big mistake;
And you say, hush baby,
Listen to winds-
You’d be alright again.

Mama, I miss you
All over again;
And you were right
I’d fall in love again
And I miss
You saying, well I told you so…
And how we’d laugh,
Like friends not mother and kid.
I miss you,
Every now and again.

And here I am now,
With life’s pieces fitting into place;
And your memories,
Your laughter,
Keeps me going anyway;
And though tears sneak out
when I’m reminiscing you,
I know, like you said to me
once before-
I’d be alright again.

The prompt for this week’s Writers quote Wednesday writing challenge is memories. This is an event where you share a quote and write a piece, anything, inspired by the quote.

The Joy, I carried-

The Joy, I carried-

image

The light of my life,
And the glint in my eye,
She is the sun who’s rays are undying.

The stars are a stretch,
When her sparks start to shine,
She is a diamond who cannot be cracked.

If the moon is a pearl
Then her face beams a thousand
My baby, my girl, the child that I carried.

Joy came through marriage,
And contentment ensued,
Till for 9 months a soul- emerged in my womb.

The glint in my eye,
My moon during dark,
My baby my girl, the joy that I carried.

The above image is courtesy of Art from my soul