The Road

The cherub look has always been associated with me. Chubby cheeks that made my face lie about my age making people think I am younger than I am without having to open my mouth. My face isn't cherub looking anymore. My body not so big. Lines have replaced the once soft mounds of my cheeks. Grooves have dug into the lines of my jaw. I have aged to show the full extent of my 39 years over the last several weeks. I don't always recognize the person I see in the mirror or the person Carmelo sneakily takes pictures of.  The lines on her face tell a story I know just never actually saw written. Each vein, each line, each wrinkle, crevice and groove have a story to tell about the sleepless nights, the anxiety riddled days and the mind numbing madness this disease gives you. I have seen things I will never unsee and heard things I wish I had never heard. I am force to drone out and function because I am a wife and I am still a mother to two other children. I have responsibility and I have no choice but to function because there is an obligation I must keep to all of my kids not just one. I need Vitamin Sea. I wish I could go on vacation with all my kids completely healthy and jump in the ocean to wash away the nonsense I have been going through. I guess I will one day. One day when the lines are permanent and the anxiety has left a more lasting impression I'll bath my new face and body in sunlight and take the battlescars of anxiety on vacation with me. It will be my trophy for having survived this ordeal with some semblance of my sanity and in one piece. At least, I hope that is how it will be.