The much needed venting
Here stands before you a lady, in fact it’s your mother. The moments you have together are suppose to be precious, that is because you may not see her again for a long time. She is condemned with the moodiness from her illness bipolar. Although you love her very much, you also indulge her manpulation and moods . But thats not all, to increase the stress your already dealing with: you are forced to put up with her, for she is your only parent and family. This in fact will bother you at most times, but for the most part it’s settled and excused from your memory. Most of the time spent at each of your meetings aren’t spent preciously, they are spent with manipulative lies and sad story’s from the days of your mother. Each visit has a different recipes, but at the end you are sure to have many repeating feeling; exhaustion, depression, and frustration. That feel may stay for hours to days depending on the meeting. In fact, because of these visits you developed a after effect personality from the out come of these meetings that makes you lose interest in having feelings. This may be a bit confusing, you don’t feel sad or angry or even happy. You may say blank or apthy, but in fact you believe this mood is a feel that is one unknown to others. This feeling is not a high or a low. It is almost a feeling that is learnt from a robot. This is how you deal with you stress and pains from your visit.
Before the meetings there is a intense outer happiness, this expression unintentional masks the anxiety and frustrated pumping heart that lays deep inside you. The beating of the heart is always a sign of stress or excitement, some like to believe it is your second brain. Once you meet her you are greeted, you stare in to your mothers brown eyes and see gray eye balls with vais slightly touching the iris. Her eyes look as though see seems tired and gazed. You stare at her hands and they apear to be shaking and her voice seems to be straggly depressing, although this makes you feel sad it also takes a toll on the empathy bank that never seems to close.
like for part 2