I was never taught to love myself. All the different parts of me that make me unique. I was never taught to be unapologetically flawed. Many days I’m not sure how I’ve made it this far… the self-hate was debilitating. Everyday I painted a smile on my face and got up to face another day. When all the while I was dying inside. Death was eating away at every part of me. I lived in fear constantly. Sleeping with knives under my pillow. Thinking tonight would be the night it all ended. Startled out of my sleep by the sound of shouting. I remember feeling as if my heart would beat out of my chest. I remember thinking someone may die tonight. I remember thinking why is it always me? Why am I the one putting myself in danger to make sure nothing permanent happens?
Why doesn’t anyone see the lies behind my smile? The violence just under the surface? Locking myself in my room didn’t help to quite the voices. Locking myself in my room didn’t make what was going on go away. When most people think of abuse they think of the physical but no one recognizes that sometimes the emotional abuse is a pill much harder to swallow. For years I hated my existence. I didn’t understand why my family life wasn’t perfect. I didn’t understand why it seemed like the walls were closing in on me. I grew up before I should have. Surprised a lot of the pain. The shame. The misery. The hate I have is still strong… it’s still pure. What happens when you don’t feel safe at home… the one place you should above all others? What happens when grown men try to force themselves on you and you feel you have nowhere but to turn? I was never taught to love myself so I went searching for it in all the wrong places. It’s hard to dispel the cycle. It’s hard to remove yourself from the continuous loop. It’s hard to break the silence. I should have left.
I stared death in the face a time or two and I’m surprised I’m still here. I was threatened in high school. Told I would be tossed out a two-story window… in the place I was supposed to feel safe. Loved. Protected. Instead I felt fear. Hopelessness. Rage. Why would you let your child endure such hardships? Why would you stay? Most importantly why the hell did I?
If love were to stare me in the face tomorrow, I’m not sure I’d recognize it. I am broken in more ways then I can count. For years I’ve been searching for a love I’m no longer sure exists or is attainable. I want it all… The late night conversations, curling around one another like different parts of the same whole, and being so ingrained in each other’s hearts that they beat as one. A love strong enough to withstand the sands of time. Is that so much to ask for? Have I sinned to the point of becoming undeserving? I feel sorrow deep within me for things I’ve never really had but miss deeply.
I’ve always felt too deeply. I jump in with both feet and try to kick my way to the surface after but I am drowning. When I should be wallowing in the shallow end I’m neck deep in emotions… emotions I should have shielded myself from feeling. How can one love so deeply yet not understand the basic concept of the word? Jealousy stabs at my soul like a thousand needles. The tiny pinpricks consuming me and making me feel ashamed. I am damaged… sometimes I fear it is beyond repair. Man was not meant to walk this world alone. The one that balances the dark within you roams just as lost as you are without them.
Just once I’d like to feel… something. Anything. But then again feeling anything is what led me to this place of in between I currently reside in now. I just want to be held. Comforted in much the same way as a newborn babe… made to feel warm. Safe. Loved. What have I not learned yet that basic human companionship has been denied me for so long? In what ways have I been lacking? I have so much to give and yet I feel empty. My heart cries out for one that I cannot find… maybe will never find in time. I have tossed myself into the fire many times even though I always get burned. One would think my skin had become thick and impenetrable but still the claws of madness are able to get in.
It’s as if I’m always looking through the glass and my happy is just out of reach on the other side. What I wouldn’t give to touch it… even briefly. Real love is hard to find. The feeling of being lost inside another but yet separate. Sharing everything no matter what. What have I done? And how do I right the wrongs I’ve obviously committed?