I wear two masks constantly. Day in and day out and I only take them off to breathe when the chance arises. That chance isn’t often and when I can breathe it isn’t pretty, relaxing or fun. I have a public mask you see. For the day to day, a super mom personal to keep up with the masses, the strangers, the parents at school and those who only seem me through a porthole in the side of my life boat.
Then there is the mask in private. The one who play her cards close but wears her heart on her sleeve. This mask is thinner, more translucent, closer to me. But I hold things behind it very few can see. I’ve only let a few see me with out it.
I’ve come to realization that under these masks I’m lost. The sight isn’t pretty, there are tear stained cheeks. There’s a girl who wants everyone to be happy. There’s a girl that needs to be reassured she is loved.
The past two weeks were rough. Masks ripped off. Sea salt scrubbed in the woulds. I Thought Of Self garm. I would never do it because of my sprites but I just wanted to hear that people still wanted ME around. Not the kids but ME. That’s all I wanted to hear.
As the weeks of pain and heart break subsided I felt better. Be it my meds, my therapy ir just thinking it through I’m done with my masks. I wish I had a sledgehammer to break them.
I’m tired of hiding me. I’m tired of my two seperate lives. I’ve given up the drama and negativity. I am cleansing everything because what I’m building is fragile and takes time. But it’ll be worth it in the long run.