3/4 Cup of Aged Pain
A pinch of 3 Years Doubt of Worth
Take Out all Self Worth
Mix in Life’s kicks when you’re down
Plus the age old being a girl doubts.
Creates a living pain of looking in anything reflective. Sometimes I just wish I could cut myself a break and see what everyone else sees. Instead of just watching myself deteriorate. I guess today I just wish I had the strength to stand up for myself.
I decided I just wish I could stop all the bad and bringing up the bad. Likewise I was reminded today at work of the stereotypes I use to fit into just because people didn’t know me. Sometimes I wish I could just go back to where I was comfortable instead of having to visit my same haunts and shit. For real? Wasn’t it long enough?
I guess that’s why every Sunday, all I ask for is strength. At least for myself.
I started holding onto the things that are important to me. The little things. Today I used my grandma’s scissors and made something. From scratch. For someone else. So far. So good.
It’s tough waking up in the arms of someone who loves you. Someone who kisses each part of you that has been hurt and used, and shows you the most love it could shake your system. Then hours later you’re surrounded by old haunts that make your stomache roll, and your head pound. He’s not my run away, but he lets me give up my strength and hold me together when I don’t want to anymore, and he loves me despite all of it.
To do list:
Refind inner strength- Learn how to be strong about the things that happened to you, and not just cold about them.
Take Care of You- You are someone worth keeping and keeping alive, it’s time to be better to yourself.
Remind love of self- You are a good person, really. For real. You didn’t do anything bad. You aren’t a bad person. A lot of people would be delighted to have you in their lives, and actually a lot of people are delighted to have you there.
Create- It always makes you feel better when you make something, from nothing.
Keep on Keepin on- Take names while your at it, because it’s your life. Let’s go back to making it something worth telling the grandkids.
- 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.
I’m here. Gosh he’s repeated that a few times now. Sometimes I want to just go from start to finish and just keep going. Except it doesn’t work like that, because I’ve put a lock for so long on my ideas and my words.
Part of me wishes when he met Margie he’d ask some things that she just understands.
Why does she always say she doesn’t deserve me? Because you see. She doesn’t think she deserves a thing. She just doesn’t understand why people would want to be around her, or why people enjoy being around her. She thinks that if it’s good it should go to someone else. Someone who deserves it. She just doesn’t understand.
Why does she always think she’s a bad person? Because she let it happen well at least according to her. She doesn’t think she’s a good person or all she does is ever enough. She’d give and give till she had nothing left, and she’d still feel like it wasn’t enough.
What do you mean enough? She’s told you she’s broken before right? Ya Well you see she thinks there is a large piece of her missing. Like she’s half of the woman she use to be. Half the woman she could be, because she lost the other half and can’t get it back. So she’d give you everything she’s got, but it’s only half of what she wants to give you.
How does she still go on whole-heartedly? Because that’s her. She goes everywhere with everything she’s got. She’s convinced she’s gonna die early because she lives through so much and still has so much. She thinks it’s some big test that you learn how to keep going and giving it your all.
Do you think she’ll ever figure it out? Slowly. She understands in bits and pieces for short periods of time. Sometimes it’s just a lot though so she chooses to take what she can.