A blue bird also rests on the branches of every member of my family. They all sing songs of sadness. My mom's blue bird rests on her branch but lands lightly. It's muzzled with a mask called medication. Since it is silenced, her branch is numb. The muzzle on the blue bird numbs the memories of sexual assault, but her blue bird is still taking its effect on her heart. Her heart rests easily in an icebox. To feel love is a necessity she no longer has.

My brother's blue bird rests heavily on his branches with weights around its tiny bird feet. His bird takes control of him. It's like I see the bird myself even though it doesn't belong to me, and it consumes all motivation that he ever had and encourages him to do nothing. It's not fair. He never had a chance to be happy. He's only 14. It couldn't wait a couple years.

Then there is my blue bird. My blue bird fuels my pride and confidence, so no one will ever feel the need to pity me. It keeps makeup on my face so that outsiders won't have to face the monster I look at every single day. It fights me because she knows that I don't want her there. My blue bird keeps me constantly moving, studying, and working so I won't have to think about its return. She knows my goals are to limit its time on my branch. She knows my desire to rid myself of its evil clouds. It takes away my need for love and stirred up my need for happiness. She focuses solely on the negative and ignores all the positive I've done. She makes me focus on all my flaws but ignores my successes.

She brainwashes me into thinking that no man will ever want me so I might as well not even think about it. She makes me push people away because I want to leave them before they leave me. Since my blue bird understands my goals she intensifies my emotions whenever she lands.

“Fight it and I'll fight you...” she says. She has blinded my ability to see who's real and who's fake. She has numbed my ability to feel weak amongst others, even though I am probably the weakest of them all. She's taken my love of self and has replaced it with self-loathing. She makes me feel ashamed to put on clothes and face the outside world sometimes. She makes me ashamed to look at what makes me different and wish I was the same as everyone else. My bluebird punishes me for my weight when all I've ever tried to do all my whole life is lose it. She keeps me in bed some days in the midst of my long to-do list. Now you see why I have to limit its branch time. Like an anchor in the sea, I am weighed down by this oppression. Like a marshmallow in the fire, my mental clarity is melted to mush by outsiders but more often myself. The people on a day-to-day basis who test me mean nothing. You are just more material the bluebird uses for it's set on my branch.

She often dwells on the things I can’t change. “Why can’t you be more like her? Fair skinned and petite,” she says. “It will take a special man to love a dark, wide woman like you. Overthink. Overthink. Jump to conclusions! Keep your head down! No one is looking your way! You'll never be good enough. Never! Do you know what you need?”

Yes. I need to remove you from my branch.

I have tired blue bird.

I am tired.