My Inheritance

Redux

A lifetime of difficulties landed hard.
Years of sadness, extremes, and bullshit highs.
Insecurities abounded and chaos prevailed.
Welcome to my world.

I was educated on “What will the people think?” stability.
Happy, healthy home – yeah, that was an illusion.
Inconsistent love led to inward rage,
me only always wanting to run away.

Her generation’s dysfunction and the ones before were handed down.
The family poison designed to slowly kill your mind over time.
But she never counted on me fighting hard for my sanity.
I wouldn’t accept this lame gift fraught with pain.

So I cut ties and let her go.
It helped to put up clearly marked boundaries.
I could finally breathe.
I rose above the insanity to find my peace.

Then she died.
The drama spanning generations ceased.
My inheritance was freedom.
Something she never experienced.

Originally posted on October 19, 2018, on I Write Her.

20 thoughts on “My Inheritance

  1. I think that whole generation spent much of their lives worrying about what people would think, instead of considering what they thought themselves. I know my mother did. I’m glad you escaped that trap. (K)

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