No.

She wanted to climb on the hill;
The hill that was made of ice and dirty snow.
So I said no.

You could slip and fall and hit your head.
In a matter of minutes, you could wind up dead!

You could slip on the snow-covered ice and get hurt.
You could fall on your face and get a mouthful of plowed, snow dirt!

Do you hear what I’m saying?
Why are you looking at me like that?
Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you!
Come back!

Get down off that snow pile,
I’ve already told you no,
I’m your parent,
And what I say goes.
It’s for your own good,
And for mine, too,
When you’re broken and bleeding, what am I going to do?

Stop saying “No” when I ask you to listen,
You’re a big kid now, do you need the definition?
No means no, it means stop, halt, don’t go
It means listen to your mother when she says “Stay the %*?# off the snow!”

Get down now,
Come on, move!
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!
Seriously, you’re still saying “No”?

Fine, I’ll climb up to get you,
Bring you down myself,
Now I just have to find a foothold; a sturdy ice shelf
To step on to get you,
Way up on that mound,
Oh crap, my foot’s slipping,
I’m falling to the ground!

Down the hill, I’m sliding;
I have no control,
I grasp for help wildly,
But continue to roll

My cheek hit the ice and I’ve really hurt my knee,
Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.


 

Featured image courtesy of Alexas_Photos on Pixabay.

living with mental illness