seldom do i ever have a moment where i am free from the pain, free from the trauma that plagues me relentlessly
seldom do i ever have a moment
where i don’t hear your fucking voice, ******. where i don’t feel empty. when i escaped from you, i forgot to bring my identity with me. i have no idea who i am. you managed to steal me away from myself before i had the chance to run.
you conditioned me to believe that you are the only one who could ever understand someone like me.
who could ever love someone like me.
you conditioned me into forfeiting my right to make my own choices and into handing that responsibility to you.
you turned me into nothing but a pet.
helpless. hopeless. incapable.
i have yet to find a way to reform myself into a human being again.
******, do you see what you’ve done? i know that you do. you’re probably proud of it, too. i know that my pain gives you a thrill. my suffering gives you a rush.
I hated being the object and provider of that rush to a sick sick person. Trauma sucks. Finding an identity has been a work for me. I will say I really like what I an becoming but I hate what i was to her.
thank you for sharing your experience. it’s nice to know I’m not alone in these feelings.
i wish i could take your pain. you deserve better