Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Wow, for some reason, on this very mundane Tuesday, I have plummeted to the depths of my soul. Here it is.

I have to go back

Way back
Go back in time
Peel back the layers

At my core

I find something very black
I was very little

I don't know how little I was

Little enough where I couldn't tell you how old I was
But also old enough where I could
Because, you see, it was this time period

I was an innocent child

An obedient child
A good child
Full of love, hope, wonder, and optimism
I never caused trouble, not a stir
I was a perfect child, really

I was so frightened

I thought I had done something wrong
I thought, it must be me

My mom is yelling at me with so much hate and rage

I see it in her face
In the shades of the color on her face
In the harsh and ugly contours her face makes
In her wild and frizzy hair
In the noise emitting out of her mouth
It is so loud, such a high decibel
And so piercing and wild

All of that 

Became me
I let it become me

Because I was a small child

And no one explained to me
This wasn't my fault
Bad things happened in this world to undeserving people
And that it was okay to feel bad when my mom did this to me
These bad feelings didn't mean that I was the bad person

But I didn't know

And the hate my mom felt in all those moments
Became how I saw myself
Became how I felt about myself

It caused me pain then

Shock, numbness, terror, anguish, the sorrow of seeing a twisted world from the eyes of a good person

And it causes me pain now

A different kind of pain
It is more subdued, it doesn't shock my senses
But it is deeper
It feels like I go through a bottomless, downward tunnel
That is very black
When all I want to see is light
I don't claw my way out
I don't even try, I know it's futile

But luckily for me now

This pain mostly doesn't choose when it visits me
I mostly get to choose now
When I visit it

For so many years
The years mostly starting from when I met you and knew you
I lived in this dark gray, sad, and twisted world

I saw love

Real love, real caring, real sacrifice
The real deal
What makes life worth living for and meaningful
A love that is the basis of all life

Yet I believed that I couldn't have it, constantly

You made me believe it

And I, too, made myself believe it
We weren't bad people
But both very immature

How does it feel

To know love
And yet to be told over and over again
That this isn't really love

I questioned whether good was evil

And evil was good

I questioned whether evil prevails

And wipes out good
Even though the very definition of good, is that good ultimately prevails

I thought I couldn't trust any of my instincts

I thought that if so, maybe I wasn't supposed to be human

I cried

Sometimes on the outside
But definitely every day
In my soul

I felt like I was living my worst nightmare every day

Or on the verge of it
Or maybe I felt both, because feeling like I was on the verge of my worst nightmare, was, in a way, living my worst nightmare

I cried, and cried, and cried, and cried

In my soul

A crying that was as sharp every minute as it was in the last

It never eased up

The pain is still very raw

The wound very fresh
But I visit this pain
And maybe one day
It will not sting so raw anymore

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