I think the pain I received from my mother can never be forgotten or overcome. I might have a wonderful day, but at some point, there's this pang in my heart. Quiet, silent. What happened? Oh, nothing. I just remembered something completely random about my mother, and it can't possibly be something good. Those memories come crashing down on you unbidden. You see yourself being beaten, suddenly thrust back into your teenage years with your mother talking about your body, or you hear phrases in your mind about being a failure and no one loving you. I don't know if there's a solution to this. I'm grieving it all the time. I don't think it will ever end. You can't describe to anyone what it's like to live with a boulder of pain inside you, pressing down on you constantly—on your heart, your mind, every part of you.