Friday, June 24, 2011

Let's get personal

Hello, oh spookily inclined!

Okay, today's post is going to be kinda different. Not make-up/clothing related, but infinitely more important.

I opened up my medicine cabinet the other day after a shower to put on deodorant. I have a lot of my necessities there- make-up remover, face wash, Neosporin, etc. There are a few things in there that I don't use (aka "need") anymore, but I still keep them to make sure I always remember.

First, the photo:

I don't want to get into all the gory details, but I'll just say one thing- this is NOT how you help a 9 year old girl who lost her father get better. Nevermind the shot glass I use to rinse out my mouth to the side...

You're a child. Your life is your family (this was the days before technology and the interwebz were big), and when you lose a piece of that reality forever, you NEED to cry. You need to freak out. And not sleep. And cry and be silent and be still and eat a lot and not eat at all and write until your fingertips ache and think so hard until you pass out every night.

This is called healing. This is called coping. The above photo is not.

Don't get me wrong, I know that my mother did what she thought was best. That's her name on the prescription bottle- I was a minor and my mom picked up the pills from the pharmacy.

I went through a lot of pain, but to this day I still feel... robbed.

You can't cry. You can't do much of anything. You sit there and stare at the television until your eyes finally close and you sleep to not dream. I feel that, after my dad died, I was robbed of a childhood, and I blame the above photo for that. I don't know if my life changed because my father passed on, or because these medications changed the way I think. I honestly don't know, but I always feel like the prescriptions were unnecessary. Sometimes the cure is worse than the actual disease, I guess.

Don't get me wrong, people DO need medication and I understand that. But a nine year old girl? No.

I have my cure right here. <3!

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