Chapter 4 - Janet

My son and I have always been together, from the months where he was in my belly to now, his father in jail while him and I silently suffer with hints of ptsd ruining our own lives.

My son is very precious to me, like any mother of course, so you can take a guess what it feels like to hear your son throwing up the dinner he just tried to shove down his gullet. In general it hurts to see your kid suffering from any mental illness. It feels like days on end he won't eat, when i try to get him to go to a therapist he refuses and never opens up. Tissues full of blood are always in his trash can, i don't bring it up anymore in case it causes another suicide attempt.

I kind of blame myself for this in a way, his father and I were in such an abusive relationship for so long that love turned into punches and bruised ribs, whispering sweet nothings into each others ear turned into verbal matches across the house, love became crying on the kitchen floor having your arms wrapped around your 6 year old child as your husband shakily hovered over you, bud light chilling in his hand.

I try to finish my dinner, the fried chicken is now cold and tasteless. the sounds from the bathroom across the hall are dying down. I get up,open the door, the smell of sweat and vomit hitting me all at once. I crouch over him the only sounds that are coming off him now are soft rhythmic pants.

I wipe the throw up off him, check his vitals and then flush the toilet.

I picked him up, ever so delicately. His skin felt like paper and his bones seemed to rattle with every move I made yet his body seemed to be so light, like a feather on my back.

I tucked him in and kissed his forehead. His skin was so pale and his eyes were squeezed shut.

"Goodnight baby" I whispered to him and walked out of his room.

I love my son, he is my world and that will never change. That will never change for no man or woman. I would do anything for this kid, i mean of course i would, that's a mothers job, okay sure i didnt want him when i was like 22 but i'm glad i made the right choice because, i don't know where i'd be without him, maybe i would still be in that abusive relationship, maybe i wouldn't be who i am without him.