I saw when it started to hit.
We didn't go out much, you cried all day and never got out of bed.
You stopped cleaning, stopped waking me up for school , and stopped cooking.
But it really got bad when you started to lean on me.
I loved you so much, I just wanted you to be happy.
I did everything I could.
You cried on my shoulder every day.
You started taking medication to help but it just made you act crazy.
You turned mean. Emotionless.
You weren't my mom anymore.
You were a sick person that I had to take care of. Day in and day out. I started missing school because I was afraid you wold hurt yourself while I was gone...
You accidently doubled your medication once, I didn't know what to do. You were slurring your words and talking crazy.  You hated yourself and you hated the world. And I hated the world for making you like this. I just wanted you back. The real you.

I stayed strong. I cried when it all first started. After a while I decided I wouldn't cry anymore because it would make things worse on you. So I turned to stone. You would tell me I had no emotion and that I didn't care. But I cared more than you could ever know. It hurt me so much to see you like that, but I couldn't show it.
But now. . . I'm so afraid. It's been  eight years since i left home and you're doing so much better. I have a daughter of my own now. And my life has been great since those days.. But it's happening. My worst fear. I'm becoming you.
I can feel it. Hitting me, just like it hit you. I can't stop it and I've tried pretending I don't feel it. I don't understand.  I want it to stop, it hurts so much. I lack motivation, I cry all the time, I feel like someone else is controlling me. I'm beginning to hate the world and myself, just like you. Why is this happening? You did this to me! I was doing so good! I got married, had a baby, and made a life for myself! And you gave me this! You never should have leaned on me the way you did, you should have never made me your "rock"! I resent you. I don't want to be you. And now I don't want to be me. I can't do to my daughter what you did to me. But I can't stop it. I don't know how. I'm so sorry that you had to feel this way back then. I'm sitting sorry that you passed it on to me. . .