16th August 2008

Letter to my mother:

You had me young and gazed at me lovingly as I slept in your arms. I’ve seen the pictures of delight on your face as I unwrap presents and take my first steps. What happened between that moment and this? You were a constant in my fragile life, my confidant, my rock, my friend. But something in you changed and over these fraught and difficult years the tables have turned.

Now I spend hours advising, coaxing and telling you positive things. Getting you through the next big crisis. I am the strong one, the one with answers, the one with support and the right things to say.

But I’m tired, I’m weary, of being your leaning post. Of holding you above the rising water. I’ve had enough of constant crises, of emotional roller coaster’s, ridiculous situations and frames of mind you get yourself in.

So I’m letting you go. I’m setting you off in a little boat all on your own. I’ve packed you some sandwiches and a bottle of pop. I know it sounds mean and I know you’ll be cross, but I have my own family and my own crisis. My children need the support of me now and I haven’t enough arms to hold you up too.

Please forgive me, I’m sorry but this has to be done. You’ll be fine and you will get through it all. You have the power in you to make the decisions that you need to make. You will still be alive this time next year and if you try your hardest you will sort your life out.

Then maybe I can have my mummy back.