growing up, I always did things for myself. I bathed myself, fed myself, took myself to school, and sometimes even washed my own clothes if I tried hard enough. I had my mum. But she was never… there. like she should’ve been. She was in the house, but her priorities got messed up and suddenly I wasn’t one of them. I was so scared she’d forget about me. That one day when I was walking home, I’d get to the door and it would be locked because she forgot about me. And she slept—a lot, so I was scared if that ever happened, I would be stuck outside the door for the night. I was scared of being forgotten. And… i still am.