Nothing Compares To A Mother's Comfort, Sierra Hilt [librera reader txt] 📗

2:36 AM – the dark street echoes with sounds of hate and disgust as my fiery eyed mother is driven to the hospital in the back of an ambulance. She is not hurt anywhere on the outside. She is drunk, she is high, and she is angry. A familiar combination, but tonight it is to a point of extremeness none of us have seen before. The look of pity on the officer’s face offers no comfort as I walk inside the silent, wrecked place I call home.

1:42 AM – tears stream down my flushed cheeks as I spit out words of revulsion at my mother. We both wish the words were not truth, but I only have room for one emotion right now, and the scorching hands of hate blister my body inside and out. Broken glass and spilled pills blanket the floor. Fear twists my stomach as my mother taunts my father once more, ready for round two. My brother and I cannot hold them apart again and I can see the panic in his eyes, as he understands the ugly reality. It is out of our control - we need help.


1:00 AM – an unnecessary announcement of just how broken our home now is chokes me up. I cannot bear the thought of living without one or the other. Even harder to swallow is the fact that my mother will not just leave quietly. No, a path of destruction must follow her departure. So she rips through our house in the same manner the situation rips through my heart, and the house and I both crumble as one.

12:30 AM- a quick knock on the door wakes me from a soft slumber. This is not the first episode, but it takes the cake on most memorable. Downstairs I am struggling to fix my fallen camera, sticky with spilt alcohol. A clatter up above catches my attention as a screwdriver flies down the stairs, striking my shoulder. The night has just begun.


Mother’s day half a week later – I come to the realization that I am not required to forget, but forgiveness is necessary. If I am to follow through on my vow not to lead the same life as my mother I must not make her same mistakes. Holding grudges and living in the past was part of her downfall. What happened in the past makes me who I am today, but it does me no good to dwell there. Instead I will use it as a base to move forward with my life.

I will remember that my actions affect those around me, and that family and friends are crucial to my sanity because isolation is suicidal.I want to be everything my mom can’t be, and everything she is. I will be a strong, independent woman with intelligence beyond comparison- but one without an addiction, a constant anger, and a loss for her love of life. I refuse to be anything less than extraordinary because I refuse to surrender.

Publication Date: 02-17-2010

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