my mom overdosed on heroin when i was twelve. i have since kept myself very busy. but recently i’ve been thinking about it in great depth. she either died in full that day and will never know the person i have become or she watches me in spirit and feels guilt that she’s not here to tell me how shes proud of me or worried about me, etc. i’ve been thinking about how painful the latter must be. i like to think she’s proud of me, but we have so much in common in the choices we have made and the paths we have gone down that i would be worried too if i were her. my dad always tells me about how much i remind him of her. i think she probably sees a lot of herself in me too. i feel some kind of dread thinking about her and my future like this. i hope i do not become a mirror of her image.