Mental Scars

Sometimes, I feel down. Okay, all the time. The truth is, I haven't felt anything in a while. My brain, it feels like chaos. All the intrusive thoughts, intruding. How do you know what's real? I don't truly know sometimes. Something will trigger. Bullet to the brain. Remember that time? That time they said that? It's so exhausting to never forget. How do I even have brain space left? But, how could they do this to me? Now, here's the self-loathing. I mean, there has to be a reason. What's the reason they abandoned me? What kind of child must I have been? I must've deserved the abuse. I have a deep-rooted past. One with many setbacks. Setbacks not everyone would, or could, come back from. The mental turmoil I face every day, all because you couldn't fix yourself. Why did I have to take on your troubles? I was just a child. A child who, who needed you. But I guess I'm just unlucky. Unlucky? Yes. Defeated? No. I see the world differently. Mostly for what it is. I see you differently. Mostly because, because I don't truly know you. I called you mother. You did brith me. But, I think you forgot to include me. Include me in your plans. Your own mental illness controls you. Now it controls me.