They told me to ‘Have a good time!’
And it felt like an order, not one I could follow.
I wanted to have a good time, but I knew
That I’d smile for the snaps but feel hollow.
To have a good time is not something I know
How to do at the moment, you see;
It’s hard to enjoy even wonderful times
When it’s painfully hard being me.
It’s not what I’d choose, and I hate that my mind
Drags down not only me but my loved ones,
I try hard to smile whilst I’m crying inside,
And I wish I was one of the fun Mums.
I watch on, distressed and because I’m depressed,
I feel like an imposter who’s acting
Acting like mum, don’t know how to do fun,
The resulting self-torture’s exacting
‘Have a good time’ I am told, and I’ll try,
Though it feels like a challenge beyond me.
With a child in each hand, I’ll give all that I’ve got,
And pray for some freedom and happy.