For so much. I use to beg for strength. Strength to wake up in the morning, and strength to keep going. I begged for strength to find an understanding. I begged. Bawled my eyes out and let go.
When I think about it. About Steve, my throat tightens. My stomache churns and my entire body wants to pull itself into the smallest ball I can create. Completely aware of every part of my body because it’s close to me. Part of me wants to scream and the other part wants to cry. Part of me pushes it away and the other part can’t let go. I wish he was just a fleeting thought, but sometimes it sticks and the rest of my body follows and stays and suddenly I’m three years ago on a new yellow couch and a bright pink polo losing pieces of myself.
- I would shake, tremble, and quake with fear. Hate for myself. Worry. Defeat. And Self Loss
- I would stay awake for hours reenacting each moment and the burn in my throat from not saying a word.
- I would sit on the roof and pray to who ever would listen
- Then I would give up my prayers determined I didn’t deserve help.
- I would have to force my meals down, because puking came too easy.
- I completely changed my route in town, and at school. To avoid him.
- I would turn the shower on as hot as it could get sitting on the floor. Crying.
- I would swim to the middle of the lake, begging anyone and something to make it easier.
Except now I wonder how much of that has changed or how much of me has changed. How to I explain to people, just how bad bad was? Imagine the worst, and then throwing a hopeless cause in the middle of it. That. Was me.
When Steve and I were together, there was a lot of it. I was constantly afraid of what he’d do next, or of what people would think, of what people were thinking, and who would find out. Even now, a lot of fear still lingers when I see him, when someone says his name, and when I think of him.
Because the scariest thing is just how easy it would have been for me to stay with him. Just how easy it would be that I could still be there right. now. How different my life would be. How horrible my life would be. How upset I would be. Someone once asked me what my greatest fear was, and we’re not talking the dark, spiders, and being attacked my chickens. We’re talking what is your greatest fear in your life. Failure? Becoming evil? Taking on the world and losing?
No. My greatest fear is being back in that exact situation, because it was the worst to me. I lost my personality. I lost my ability to communicate. I was so caged and hurt. It was torture for me. Daily. It was a constant reminder of pain and the lack of comfort. I had no sleep, I had cut down drastically on what I ate, simply because I didn’t want to puke it back up. I was beyond in pain. Someone constantly had control over me, and I was in fear of what would happen next.
So you see, sometimes I shake thinking how different everything would be if it was still the same. If by some miracle I didn’t leave. If I didn’t move on and keep living. It’s just. Scary.
World One: Home town. Small Town. Pigeon Hole. Bottled Anger. Victim. Bottled Hurt. Bottled Pain. Bottled Self. Long story: I was molested by my high school boyfriend and carried it around with me like a bad curse. I distanced myself from those whom I was closest to. Chin up Chest out and face the world. Hard. Cold.
World Two: College Town. New Home. New person. Expressive. Life and a whole lot of it. Experiences up the wazzo. Long story: I went to college and faced so much of my fears. I trusted a man (and fell in love?). I opened my heart. I showed my scars and someone kissed them and caressed them.
I came back home and my life was thrown into the past. It was.. horrible. Except I wasn’t here. I was visiting NewGuy. I was going to banquets. I was at work. I ignored so much of the pain that is embedded in the walls of my bedroom, the threads of the couch, the streets of my home town. I took NewGuy around not even feeling or remembering the pain that is so evident, only knowing the comfort of his hand on mine, and the softness of his lips.
My two worlds just collided. I whispered in the dark. So of course he asked me to explain. I with Steve what? Three years ago? Except I was swimming, I was busy, I bottled a lot of hurt up and I carried it with me as heavy as it was. It took me till College to want to let them go. Its hard. There was a lot. He holds me. Then you come where everything was bad, and show me that things can be good. It’s just. Two worlds colliding.
Filed under Life, Memories
What I chose to be. Part of me was always angry at what Steve turned me into. This unhappy, innocence lost, sad, angry, confused person. While I am these things and he probably is to blame for those things I was also angry for other things.
For losing my innocence and ignorance. In other words, for growing up too fast. Except I learned how to do this, and I did it fast. I grew up because I wanted to. Because I was sick of acting 12 and because I didn’t want to be put in a situation like I was with Steve. I wanted to be with someone more mature, someone who understood, someone who wouldn’t make the same mistakes Steve did.
I realized that of a lot of the things I was most angry about where things I chose to do as a defense mechanism, and therefore really did make me a stronger better person. I hated how I felt like I lost everything so I decided to give everything I had left. Likewise I learned how to keep on keepin’ on, and in return became extremely strong in nature and determined. Essentially as bad as it all is, I made pretty damn well for myself.
Note: Have to gain back confidence, I am a good strong, independent woman.
Filed under Life, Memories
Today I was going through my room and I realized a lot of things. First off. I have a lot of crap. Secondly. I kept a lot of crap. Thirdly. Holy hell did I grow up.
My room was surrounded by things I wanted to be, and things that I tried to remind myself I had. There were quotes everywhere about believing in happiness and life. There was walls of motivation and pictures of people I barely keep in touch with. I tried for so long to act like I was fine that even my room is a reminder that I was not okay.
Therefore, I am taking everything down, my walls are bare. Bare and bright green. Well that’s a lie there are two things left on my wall an empty wipe off board I leave quotes on, and a quote on a canvas reading– I believe in love, in arguing, in jaming out by yourself in the car. I believe in smiling till your cheeks hurt, and laughing till you cry. I believe in having someone telling you you’re beautiful. Dancing in the rain, and miracles. I believe in second chances, even if you are completely stupid. And that’s all I have left that I think remotely is the new me.
Or maybe I’m just the old me, and I’m just happy with who the old me is. I have been through trails and tribulations. I have felt hurt, and a whole lot of it. I have gone through a lot of things alone and I am starting to go through more with support of people around me.
I grew up, and I’m so happy. With who I am. And with life.
Filed under Life, Memories