Chronology of Secrets Kept Close to My Chest

MIDDLE SCHOOL:

Mommy, do you know how many fights I got into in middle school?

To count I need more fingers than two fists can hold. I say it is for your honor. Like leaving the kids at school with scars is enough to keep them from snickering at your schizophrenia. It isn't, and it takes one too many suspensions for me to find that out. Schizophrenia and stupid are not synonyms! There is a boy in my class who uses the two interchangeably like that is enough for me to change how I see you. It isn't, and it takes one too many hits for him to get it through his head. Schizophrenia and stupid are not synonyms he knows that now, but Schizophrenia and embarrassment have been conjoined twins of torture in my life.

HIGH SCHOOL

9th GRADE

I'm sorry I ever thought of you as torture, but back then I was even more sorry anyone ever saw you in my face. Every trace of you has been boldly transcribed down to my jawline, I'm you. I don't know how much though, and that scares me. What if the parts of you the world sees as broken, as unlovable, as ugly, as a disorder they see as me too? Will I ever get to stop fighting? I've been tired for a long while. Tired of making origami of my tongue. Teaching it to be a paper swan that doesn't fly off the handle when I can't handle the constant combustion of life.

10th GRADE

Mommy, I am sorry I ever saw you as a fire, as something that combusts. I promise you are nothing that needs to be put out. Do you ever wonder why I go to school so far away? I remember I told you it was the only school besides my middle school that offers German as a language. That part isn't a lie, this is the only high school to offer German, but I don't take it here. I hate German as much as I hated going to school close to home. Both were hard to get used to.

11th GRADE

I am sorry I thought you were something I needed to get used to and not someone to enjoy. Next year is my last year maybe after I can feel normal enough to love you out loud. High school has a way of making anxiousness a constant.

12th GRADE

Hey mom. Sorry, hi mom* I know "hay is for horses". You're in the hospital again and I don't know for how long. If you miss graduation I'll try not to bring it up to you ever, I know it's not what you want. No one chooses disease. This is my last year and I am working on my college applications. I have to write compelling college essays about overcoming hardships. I feel stupid writing about you. They didn't ask for a script to a lifetime movie but that's all I ever lived through. You have been both the greatest hardship and my greatest friend. I'm sorry in advance about using your "crazy" as a card. I love you, I wish you were here.

PRESENT

Now that I'm older, all the things you don't know keep me up at night. I've used your diagnosis in vain; Calling on your schizophrenia has washed away the sins of bad grades created by my procrastination and laziness. It has written excused absences on my behalf during college years and forced apologies from the most stubborn of lips. After all, no one wants to piss off the girl with the "crazy" mom, so the smart ones say sorry before my sanity is called into question.

You are my best friend, you do the most for me even when you don't know you are doing it. You got me into college. Somehow, I still spent years talking about you, to your face sometimes, behind your back, under my breath, in conversation, in scholarship essays, and in poems. I hope the last one at least pays for your house. Even though you deserve so much more.

Love,

Your last born- Maya Lorraine