I’ve been through a lot in life that molded me into this person I have become. Part of me turned all good while another part turned swayed and lost. More likely my emotions for a lot happened in the past that had built me up emotions really unecessary and would contribute nothing but all waste and empty boxes in my life. These emotions I don’t have any control of and I can hardly run away from. These are the emotions of a Bipolar. Yes, I am one and I’m no longer scared of facing it. There are times though when it eats me in half and consumes me yet, I’m forcing myself to live my life one day at a time.
Today, I’m writing for the most wonderful person in my life who contributed so much on how to live my life and how to become a better person. This person took me for who I really am and not for whom she wished I was nor for what she could benefit out of me. This person plays a very important role in my life with all her beautiful and unique way of showing me her love, inner soul and intentions. This person never got tired of me and I know in the end, when all has gone and all that’s left is just me and my broken hands, she’s gonna be there to pick me up and lend me hers.
This beautiful person is my mother, Mrs. Teresita “Tessie” Deveraturda-Pil, who gave me life and brought me all the beauty in the world. She’s been my bestfriend, teacher, nurse and adviser for ever since my life in this big city started, she’s been very supportive and never missed any of my ups and downs, accomplishments and downfall, and all my normal days and my manic-depressive episodes. Even way before it all started, she’s already there and even now and I do know that even after it all ends, she’s still gonna be there for me. At times, I cry in resentment and denial for what life brought me, she’s always got this unique way of reaching out to me delivering her ever sweet motherly words, “I’m always here for you my little girl!” though she’s not actually saying it at all. She’s got this unique way of beng there for me at times I need her the most though she’s actually miles away. She’s always got this unique way of waking my inner will to live my life and convince me not to jump off the cliff at times I’m at the bayside al wet and crying all alone in the middle of the night as rain pours down the whole city ready to end my life for it brings me nothing but all these undying emotions and failures to live as the daughter she deserved to have. These are the times my bipolarism hit me down the cracks grinding me with all my undying emotions and unquiet mind. Though she’s not physically there with me, she really never got tired of winning me back like she’s really there with me, pulling me back to the ground and holding me tightly crying and saying, “Just come back home to me for I dearly need you, my dear daughter!” She’s always wanted to come over to be here for me it’s just that, both of us just cannot afford it.
I know her struggle everyday and everytime she hears that I’m having my episodes again and I’ve always wanted to heal and change and become a better daughter for she doesn’t deserve this but I just can’t help it. I can’t fight all these depressions. It surely takes one true effort to fight it and most of the times, I just get won over.
One day, I’ll be back to the old beautiful days. One day, I’ll be that little girl she used to hold and walk around the town all dressed in preppy clothes and red ribbons. One day, I’ll make my mother sincerely happy and satisfied of her elderly life because I’m back whole again. One day, I’ll be the one assisting her more than how she has assisted me on how to live my life all this time. One day, even just for an hour or a lousy minute, one day, I’ll be a perfect daughter. I have no idea of what tomorrow brings me. I could die anytime. I could die later, in a while, or tomorrow, but all I know is that, on that day, I’ll live.
This is an entry for WordPress.com Weekly Writing Challenge: Characters, “This week’s writing challenge: Tell us about a character in your life. It could be your best friend, your partner, your child, or even your third grade teacher. With as much detail as possible, make this person real for us. Tell us more than what they look like or how you met. Let us know what their laugh sounds like, or that oddball quirk that makes this person so unique.”