I’m 19 and I’ve had mental health issues all my life. I’m dumb and lazy, I’m not very good in school. Well I used to be, I was home schooled, but it sucked because my mom is kind of a shitty parent and an especially shittier teacher, but I’d teach myself things and read all day never going anywhere. I didn’t really have any friends and the one’s I did got ripped away from me or beat me up or spread lies about me. I only really knew christian people in the hack job of a church we went to. I convinced my mom to let me go to high school to actually be with the “normal” kids and I quickly found out even more what a freak I was (am). Found myself a boyfriend four years older than me because I was stupid and young and wanted someone to be there for me. Obviously he broke up with me since he was going off to college and I got caught with a handful of pills and a glass of water crying in my bed. I never actually did it, but got dragged to to the hospital anyway and got diagnosed with anxiety on top of my “depression”. Speed up to a few years where I’m sort of comfortable, realizing I kind of missed out on things as a kid not really being able to see other kids on a regular basis except the asshole across the street who went to my church and repeatedly gave me black eyes and broke my teeth as his mom laughed about it. God I wish I was confident enough to have fought back. So anyway, I got a new boyfriend after figuring out I’m pansexual and he helped me out of an abusive relationship with a girl. He turned out to be a bigger asshole than her. Really awful relationship, I’m uncomfortable in my sexuality now and gender I’m a fucking mess and I hate myself because of him and I have horrible memories that I’m trying to downplay in my head but I can’t help but stop whatever I’m doing whenever I think of them. So I got fucked from that. Basically I’m just a little cry baby and can’t handle anything thrown at me, I’m just making a bunch of excuses. I tried a few other times to off myself with no success. Ended up either throwing up any pills I swallowed or just plain woke up sick and hallucinating still having to go to school. My grades were ass and I got high all the time senior year but I somehow got a full ride scholarship to the local uni thanks to my pressured-to-get-good-grades freshman self that made my gpa still very good. It seems that I just can’t get over being an oddball social outcast though. I tried to get a job or two and basically got fired from both because I’m too slow and incompetent to be able to do things really fast and keep a happy face all day. I think everything is pointless, why do I have to look happy being there when I want to stab myself in front of every person that bitches at me for not having the right mug in stock as if I control it. And no Karen, there aren’t any in the back or they would be on the shelf. So I’m in school still heavily relying on my parents who I don’t really get along with but enough that I still go to the house and spend time with them, I wasn’t treated badly by them I just don’t like the way they chose to raise me and their religion and won’t accept me, but we just never bring it up so, water I suppose. I don’t have a job, I’m too panicky to get a driver’s license and I’m already on a fine black-box concoction of pills for my new diagnosis of bipolar II and ADD so I don’t want any anxiety meds. Nobody will really talk to be except a few people and even they think I’m kinda weird which is understandable. I’m ugly as fuck and short and I used to be fat but depression took care of that thank god. Right now I’m not really trying in school at all because I’m fucking tired, I’m tired of all this stress and having to come here is expected of me because I got that dumb scholarship. I’m failing classes and my gpa is too low to keep my scholarship. If I fail school that’s it, my parents and family will be furious. I am not going to live with them again. I just don’t think I can even face the disappointment I’ve brought upon myself either. I did want to become an animator after all, or illustrator or whatever. Seems easy to get an art degree but I’m so awful at math. So fucking stupid. It’s lights out pretty soon I’m done. I didn’t even fucking plan to get past 18 I’m not ready for this shit. Everyone treats me like an adult when I feel like I barely got a childhood because the only social skills I got was in high school and I had to socialization of 6 year old. I’m a kid right now. I’m like 17 at most I don’t feel 19 I’m not supposed to be an adult yet. I’m just bitching about this shit man like fuck some people had it way worse than me It’s really funny actually. God, I really need to get myself out of here for other people’s sake, fuckin stupid *****. It’s literally over once I lose that scholarship fuck it maybe it’s over sooner than that. I wanna go for real, I know the next time I try I ain’t messing with pills n shit I’m gonna hang myself. I have one chance because I’m not gonna ever go back to a normal life if I don’t get it right. I hope that I’ll at least be reincarnated into someone who everyone loves, and someone who loves themselves, who’s pretty and hot and tall and skinny and has amazing hair and good teeth and health and talents. Or maybe I’ll go to one of those places I’ve dreamed of. I’ll be a hero to the whole world and everyone will love me. I’ll have a friend and we’ll go adventuring in the mountains together and beat giant creatures that are controlled by evil like in an rpg and save the world. or face off against aliens. or even just live in little cottage by myself eating off my vegetable garden and having a pet cat that will always love me. I don’t know, but I know I can’t stay here.
I just really want to die.
The last seven years have been a blur.
But 7 years… 18-25. Years I haven’t lived.
Heck, I wasn’t even living before then.
Don’t get into a relationship, you’ll lose everything.
Time, friends, sanity, freedom are just a few.
I just got out of an abusive relationship. I will not say in what profession, because I don’t want to give out too much information, but it was in a profession of pressure, where you’re expected to be hazed and belittled. This relationship was not a boyfriend or a husband, it was mentor-to-apprentice. Most of the time, when you hear of abusive relationships, it is a significant other, and I just want to say that, sometimes, it’s a boss or a friend.
This man had incredible talents, and I had the opportunity to become highly skilled in my craft from learning under this man. He was the best I had ever seen, and didn’t want to have anything more than be a teacher. But teachers do not tell their students they’re worthless. They don’t tell them they are stupid or useless, and he even attacked my appearance. He also wanted to throw in my face that he hesitated to have me due to my previous workplace, and the bad rep they got. I still worked hard, and tried to prove my worthiness, but it was all for naught.
With abuse, you don’t realise what is happening until it’s too late. You don’t know that you’re being hurt mentally until you can’t even do simple tasks around your abuser without fear of being screamed at. Every day, it was like walking on eggshells. I couldn’t sweep the floor without being afraid he’ll tell me I can’t so anything right.
Your brain shows you pain to tell you something is wrong, but for 4 months I toughed it out. In just those 4 months, my confidence was damaged to the point that I couldn’t do my craft. It was to the point where I questioned everything. My brain told me “you’re hurting, you need to leave” and I don’t know if it was my stubbornness to prove him wrong or I felt I wasn’t good without him. I regret not walking out of that place the first time we met, but he was just so talented in the craft that people handed down for generations. I couldn’t miss on this opportunity. I figured he wouldn’t get worse.
It did though. It got so bad, I would come home and question my life. I am not a weak girl, and I have been through abuse before; my paranoid schizophrenic drunk of a step father beat my mom for years until we decided enough was enough and got him out. Emotional abuse is so hard to pinpoint though because, what if I’m just a *****? What if I’m overreacting? That’s gaslighting. And I know that it was emotional abuse, because one of my co-workers, I could already see him start on her before I packed my shit and left. I think he could see it in my eyes that I was over him breaking my spirit. I was done being treated like a dog. I had reached my breaking point when he began to put down my appearance and try to make me seem “too scrawny”, and how I would look better if I didn’t have dreads or if I had an ass. I didn’t really care about that, I’ve learned to let that roll off my shoulders, but still, the fact of the matter is that he tried to bring me down even further.
Well, before I drink this Tequila and make a toast to me leaving an abusive relationship, I will say this:
If you find yourself in the same situation, abuse is abuse, no matter spouse or boss. You need to leave. It’s hard, I cried when I left because I thought that I wasn’t doing the right thing, but when I walked into my new workplace, I found my family, and they welcomed me with open arms and I went right to work. When you leave, you will cry and you will feel bad about it, you will feel like you’re hurting them, but they don’t feel a thing. They might ask for you back, but you need to not do it. Being there 4 months damaged me enough, I couldn’t imagine going another month, my dears. You are doing the right thing. I promise.
I have an abusive partner, rarely physical abuse. It’s abuse which is carefully engineered to hurt me from within. Emotional abuse is the worst form I believe. It destroys your mind and leaves you with numbness. Everyday I suffer, in one way or another. I feel myself getting closer and closer to the point of no return. The one thing keeping me here is my son. I’m beginning to feel even he would be better without all of this. Maybe he can then have a happy childhood.
I have no family, I have no friends, this account and post was created in secret. I know it’s abuse, but I can’t break away from it. I’ve gone from one abusive relationship into another except I’m trapped in this one. Grant me strength to break away.
Our eyes met,
and for some reason I just couldn’t resist you,
I fell fast and so did you.
But then the sweet words you called me turned sour,
the touching wasn’t so gentle anymore,
you left bruises and scars,
but somehow it felt better to go through this pain with you,
I never believed in God,
but I started praying for death,
hoping some greater power could take me out of this misery.
Your mean words became my reality,
and my bruises you left on my body never healed,
they were permanent.
I left you, with swollen eyes and a heavy heart,
never knowing if I would find someone that would make me so miserably happy.
(Sorry in advanced if things are disjointed posting on my cell)
I found this site nearly two years ago thought maybe I should make an account. Each time I would be bogged down with fear that maybe I shouldn’t what would people think? After all I already get looks because I have to see a doctor on and off or the medication that has caused issues in the past.
Today I gave in the fear is still there however something I said last week gave me pause. “Maybe the reason I haven’t tried in a while isn’t because I suddenly want to live. Maybe it is because I feel I am nearly done with this life. That hopefully I will die soon of natural causes.”
I was given a odd look when I said that then the comment. But you are in your early thirties how can you say that. Followed with the age old rubbish of, “It will get better.” I hate that sentence, have heard it since I was ten. Things have not gotten better. Yes I know I am not in an abusive home or relationship, I have a job a car and house.
Those things are all material and can go poof. I for some insane stupid reason still crave love and a family. I hate that about myself the most. I don’t want to need or be needed since to me need eventually leads to using. I refuse to be used so I refuse to do anything that can lead me to what I want most.
I go to work I go home l log into a game a mmo lol and even in game I am alone. It really is pathetic and the last doctor to try to get me and do something out of the house I refuse to return emails to.
My Freshman school year was complete utter hell. The summer before freshman year was something you would normally only have written in a crazy book or a fake story someone made up. I was a young 14 year old who was in a abusive relationship and after it was broken off it followed me into my first year of high school. He was telling everyone a bunch of insane stories about how we had sex everyday and he spent the night almost every weekend. The only time I ever saw him was when he was standing at my locker and then he either was asking me to date him again or violently screamed at me about how I was such a slut and was sucking every guys dick I’ve ever seen. It got so bad i asked for a older guy’s help with it and he would walk with me to my locker, it was the only was my ex wouldn’t speak to me.One of the times he couldn’t my ex was acting like he was going to swing at me and a crowd of my friends crowded around, even then I never gave in and yelled back at him, I pretended to ignore him but there was only so long Â I could and ignore the terrible rumors spreading around about me and everything he said. I finally ended up hiding a box of matches in my room, lit one, blew it out and put it to my wrist. each time I got to my limit I would take it out on myself instead of proving my ex right. My ex left my High School but the words he left never stopped haunting my mind. I began to be more and more antisocial and never realized it until one day I was happy in one of my classes and got a surprised look because I was laughing. Each time I felt bad I would burn or if I got desperate, I would cut. Â I’ve thought about suicide before, lots before but I would never go through with it because honestly I think its just exhausting thinking about it, not to mention to go through with it. I ended up telling my parents after a friend helped me realize how bad off I was and I’ve gotten help (and some meds but they arn’t working and I don’t like the doctor so I say I’m fine and I see a councilor but since its summer I haven’t see her. ) I’ve lost some bad friends on the way and the ones I have left mostly understand except for my best friend. This summer so far has been perfect so far, I have a new boyfriend who I am beginning to trust, a new Best friend who, for the most part, understands me and no family problems but…I sometimes feel like the world would be better off without me and I feel like I NEED to burn, almost like you need to itch a itch. you can ignore it for a wile but it never goes away. I tried talking to my best friend about wanting to burn and she freaked out. She told my friend who helped me get help in the first place and I feel like he’s just had enough with everything concerning me and wants me to leave him alone so I am and I feel terrible about getting him involved and ever telling him any of it since it just has stressed him out. I haven’t told my boyfriend because he does understand Â feeling worthless and stuff, but he hasn’t ever hurt hims self before and I’m scared of his reaction and if he will dump me and run away. Every person I trust has turned me away and I don’t know what to do anymore and I found this place so I guess I just needed to be able to vent. If you read this, thanks you, if you skipped through this, its okay I don’t blame you. I just needed to let my story out.
well here we go, the story of the pretty little rich girl is being spoken about.
Hey, my names Shauna if you knew me you’d know that I’m a very outspoken, confident person, nuh huh you don’t really KNOW me then. where do i begin?
My ‘father’ was an alcoholic, drug and woman abusing piece of scum, he numerously abused my mother and would’ve abused me if i wasn’t for my mothers courage to leave him. Thank god she did otherwise i wouldn’t know where I’d be right now. Nether the less i started primary school, i was the fat gingery blonde girl with glasses who everyone had fun taking the piss out of me, i didn’t find it so funny, people pretended to be friends with me just so they could come over my house and sometimes steal stuff. My step father is quite a wealthy man as he has his own business so therefore we have quite a Â big house in a small villageÂ that’sÂ why everyone used to call me the rich girl.
near the end of primary school we had to decide what comprehensive school we were going to and i made the worse choice on going to the same one that my ‘friends’ were going to. The days of my life in secondary school were most definitely the worst. I was constantly being bullied throughout year 7,8 and 9 even by sixthÂ former’sÂ which wasÂ definitelyÂ wrong. There i suffered depression, anxiety and was having numerous panic attacks as i had paranoia, i couldn’t walk down my street without thinking someone was going to attack me. No teachers did anything to help either!
In year 10 i actually got the balls to stand up for myself, i wasn’t taking anyone’s shit anymore, but then i got myself a new nickname ‘Phyco Shauna’ funny right? well no. I ended up being forced to go to in school and out of schoolÂ counsellingÂ sessions.
I have been in an abusive relationship which carried on for two years, numerous boyfriends cheating on me. And now i am with someone who i can honestly trust but someone has already tried splitting us up withÂ rumorsÂ afterÂ rumors.
I am a sufferer of self harm for 4 years now and still can’tÂ physicallyÂ stop, i just constantly want to hurt myself..
and iÂ don’tÂ know when I’m going to stop. Â one of my goof friendsÂ committedÂ suicide 6 months ago.. i want to stay strong for him but i don’t think i can much longer.
Im 19, A few years after I was Born my parents divorced and my mom and I moved away from the big city to a smaller city not to far. The divorced didnt effect me much because I was so young but it showed in my mother and she began to drink a lot.
by the time I was in grade 3 I was very unhappy with life, There was rarely any food to eat in the house and I was in a very abusive relationship with my mother. I was regularly running away from home and staying with my grandmother who lived in the same city. Â unfortunately my grandmother was very old and unable to take care of me full time.
When I got into grade 4 I was still going thru the same things at home and was an outcast at school, regularly getting suspended and into fights.
I had a few friends but had a hard time relating with other kids.
Fed up with life I just needed to talk to someone so i contacted the school guidance councilor and she issured me everything would be our little secret. I told her everything and she lied and got childrens aid involved.
this sparked a huge investigation in my mom and made her very unhappy. I didnt know what to do I was was scared of being thrown into another family so I went with my moms stories and lied to them,
that summer I tried to hang myself but the rope broke, I tried wrapping it around my neck and passed out. when I woke up shocked to be alive my neck was bruised and sore, and I thought about what my grandma and grandpa would do if i had actually killed myself.
My grandparents were the only people to spend quality time with me as a kid. they where the only people to believe in me and keep me going all these years.
After that still unhappy with life I decided that I wasnt going to kill myself while my grandparents where alive and the only option was to suck it up and go on with life. I was now old enough to stop the beatings and abuse from my mom and spent most of my days drawing alone locked in my room.
In grade 6 I had a horrible relationship with my teacher, She was constantly picking on me and making examples of me to the class. I began to get picked on and i lashed out, resulting in many days of inschool suspention and finally she held me back to repeat grade 6.
I couldnt believe it, I had never heard of someone failing a grade in elementry school. I was convinced it was my mom and the teachers fault.
I started to think about killing myself again. I contacted my dad still living in the big city, explained my situation and asked if I could come live with him. he agreed and I packed up and moved in with him.
Things started to finally look up, I got in with the popular kids at my new school, had no problem getting girls, started to gain lots of confidence and was doing really well in school getting honors for grade 6,7,8. I hadn’t even thought about killing myself once since I left my moms.
In grade 8 my dad began to get more strict and school oriented, grounding me all the time and making me come home early study. I was already doing well in school and just wanted to hang out and have fun with my friends.
I began to start visiting my mom again on the weekends who had cleaned up her act and found a new boyfriend with a good job that she moved in with.
When I graduated elementry school I was upset with how strict my father was being and I longed for the freedom my mother gave me on the weekends. So I told my Dad I wanted to go back and live with my mom an her boyfriend.
My Dad didnt seem to keen saying that my mother was irresponable and things wont be the way I thought, I didnt listen and went to live with my mother anyway.
That summer I had more fun then I had ever had in my life, staying out all night with friends partying and caring on I never wanted it to end.
Then highschool started, Missing the summer fun, I got heavy into the party crowd, partying every night, nd selling and doing as much drugs as I could get my hands on. this distructive path continued until one night I crashed a stolen car almost killing me and 3 other passengers.Â after that I knew I had to stop everything I was doing so i didnt hurt myself or anyone else.
When I recovered and got back to school everyone had already heard.. everyone was making fun of me. I felt like I had no one and slipped into a depressive state for 6 months sleeping every single day waking up only to use the bathroom and eat what food my mom left at the door for me.
I finally snapped out of it but never went back to school.
I knew I didnt want to live anymore but didnt know if suicide was the answer so I turned back to the life of drugs, andÂ partying.
the next summer I Â got pulled over for a D.U.I, lost my licence and havent had a car since. which really puts a damper on my life in a city with limited public transit.
I Started going out every night, making as much money as I could, doing as many drugs as I could and having sex with as many girls as i could.
until one day I notice some bumps in my genital area, i think its nothing but still decided to get checked out… turns out it was HPV and a few months later it had spread covering my whole genital area. i went back and saw my doctor and he said there was nothing he could do and it would go away on its own If I stay healthy.
I quit drugs, drinking and smoking cold turkey, started working out. but I Â wouldnt take no for an answer saw another doctor that had them burned off but they kept coming back.
Its been 2 and a half years now, Ive stayed off drugs and ive tried everything i could find or do to get rid of them with no result.
This is where I am now. I hate my life. I literally lost all my friends, never finished highschool and work a shitty job at a fast foodÂ restaurant.Â Im living pay check to pay check, and I come home every night to my empty basement apartment full of sorrow and regret.
For the last year I go to bed every night hoping I dont wake up And hope to get hit by a car everytime I go out. ive been seriously contemplating suicide again, even day dreaming about it. At first I didnt think I could do it, thinking about how it could affect everyone in my life but these past couple days ive been thinking FUCK everyone else IM unhappy, IM the one who has to go thru this everyday, IM the one that hates myself.
They wouldnt understand what im going thru. And These past couple days ive been seriously thinking about doing it, even picked out the tree and have the rope I would use.
But something inside me says dont do it. I dont know what else to do or who to talk to. I feel like a lost soul walking the earth just waiting to be set free
This Is My Story
Warning: rant from top of my head. Might randomly skip to from topic to topic.
When I was in eight grade, I thought I knew what long lasting pain and depression were. I had grown up in a “broken” home, I was bullied, I had been cheated on and my brother nearly died from a suicide attempt. I can remember sitting next to his bed and even after I found out he was going to survive, I kept thinking things couldn’t get worse than that. Since then (3 or so years ago), I have been in a abusive relationship, cheated on again lost a friend who was like a brother to me through suicide, been blamed for killing this friend (I was there when it happened), lost my best friend’s sister (also a close friend of mine) through a brain hemmorage, lost my virginity unwillingly, been disowned by many friends and worst of all, lost myself. I’ve had suicide attempts in the past, but I’ve never quite been myself when they happened. I always felt like I was in a dream state like inception (felt like this long before the movie) but in my case, I had no control. It was as if I was watching it happen, not doing it. Throughout everything, I am still here, but I’m no where near “alive”. Every day I wake up and wonder why I bothered. I have no purpose to go on anymore. It’s gotten to the point where people who hate me have honestly asked me why I’m still here and people who love me ask how I have the courage to go on each day. I hear them both so much, yet I’m dumbfounded every time I hear them because to be honest, even I don’t know the answer to either. I mean I’m not religious, so it can’t be that whole “God has a purpose for me” stuff, so what is it? Maybe it’s because of the things I’ve gained in this process (strength, closer relationships), maybe it’s so I don’t hurt others, maybe somewhere deep inside I know or at least hope it will get better or maybe it’s just because I’m just too chicken to end it all. All I know is I’m here and no matter how bad it is, I would never trade my past for anything and no matter how bad the future gets, I’m staying until my time comes naturally and not by my hands.
Well… Here I am at 25. More confused than when I was 14…. Lost for 11 years. Wandering, somewhere out there alone. In a world full of trauma and pain. Not understanding where I am going, or even what I want to do. My father who was my best friend died in an accident. A month before my birthday. Right before Father’s day… My mother met an addict and decided that she wanted a different life. So when she got out of jail, she moved out of state and gave her children up to be wards of the state…
The rest of my family disappeared as well leaving me to take care of my sibling. Taking guardianship of her until she turned 18. And now I get drunken phone calls from a scared little girl. Wanting to die. She is doing everything I did. Drinking and driving, contemplating/attempting suicide…. Living in an abusive relationship and yet, I know that if I lecture her, she will disappear again. Not speaking to me for another year. Maybe longer next time…. her mentor and woman she considers family trying to kill herself as well. Leaving my sister wondering who WON’T leave her…. Same as I did.Â
A boyfriend relying on her as much as my ex of 6 years did to me. Leaving her with black eyes and feelings of worthlessness. And yet, I’m sure she thinks that she could never do better…. I battle with ADD, was diagnosed with major depressive disorder. I have this personality that one either loves or hates… I have no friends, just acquaintances. And as I lost 50 lbs recently, I have all this new found attention. That I don’t think I want anymore. It’s for all the wrong reasons.Â
When i was 13, I took a bottle of aspirin. I knew I wouldn’t die… But I was screaming for my mom’s attention. And a few years ago I attempted again. With pills and liquor in my system. I managed to really do it to myself. Ending up in the ICU. I saw the way the nurses and doctors looked at me. As if I was some nut. But I was just tired. So tired. Of dealing with my ex, of being in school with no help… Of my sister needing me to be the adult. Giving her food, picking her up from out of state or when she was drunk at someone’s house. I don’t know that anyone will ever understand the tremors of one’s life… Or the pain that sometimes succeeds at taking over and running things. Until you feel like you are drowning. And your head slips under for the last time in an unforgiving world.Â
I realize I am fortunate. Having a place to live. A job that leads nowhere but helps to pay the bills. But it’s getting too hard to watch everyone I know having children and getting married. Having great careers and great families and I wake up each and every morning still confused. Still lost… Still alone. Not sure if I am sane enough to be with anyone, and not wanting to be alone. Why would I want to put these burdens on anyone else? People keep telling me how strong I am for dealing with the things I had to deal with in my life…. But I always tell them that it wasn’t strength. That I was just an ordinary girl put in extraordinary circumstance. I dealt with things enough to survive, same as anyone else would if put in the same position.Â
I am no longer suicidal, because I don’t think I care enough to try anymore. I am just a shadow, living among a billion more. Trying my hardest to define myself. Born with only enough talent to survive. A talent with poetry. Poetry… Seriously? I think that God and I have a very complex relationship. Close to null and void, but I do wear a bracelet that says “It was then that I carried you” because of all the stupid, drunken, suicidal things I have done I should have died 100 times over. Including flipping my car. Being in dangerous neighborhoods, with even more dangerous people. And drinking enough to kill a small horse… A million times over. But… I have a healthy liver still, (Doctors have told me that that isn’t possible with everything I have done to it)Â
I have no answers to what anyone of us is doing with our lives, what we SHOULD do (Myself included) Or where we are going. Sadly, I am coming to the conclusion that I will always survive. Just barely. And I will never truly Â be happy or successful. I will not win any awards or affect anyone with my words. I will not save any lives, or change any lives. I will always….just be me. Clinging on to the edge with my nails. Staring down into an abyss. Wondering if it’s worth it to just let go already.Â
THROUGH PAINTED EYES
She looks through painted eyes. Eyes that have become cloudier throughout the years. Eyes that have seen torment, and loneliness. She searches through the faces, but sees no one she recognizes anymore. And so she casts her eyes back to the ground to watch the pavement move as she walks. She wakes up each morning to work her blue collar job. Not because she is unintelligent, but because she never got the chance to make things right. She dare not look into the sky for fear of her father’s judgement shine down on her. (Though he would never.) She thinks of the family that abandoned her once, and over and over again throughout the years. Believing it to be the best choice for her perhaps. And once her feet hit the floor of her gray dilapidated apartment building and she is inside safe. She shuts the door and locks it. Sighing. Thankful to be free of her working prison for the evening. She looks around and feels safe again. Free from the thoughts and judgments of others, from their complex emotions and stares. She is 25, and loves all kinds of music. But today, Rachmaninov seems more appropriate. Tragic music to suit her tragic life. At 25, the world has grown gray and cold. And when she works, she stares at the couples… Young and old, each holding something dear to them. One another… She sees their feelings as they connect with a kiss. Or perhaps a father and a daughter, a mother with her family. She yearns not just for a family, but for HER family… The one promised to her when she lie on her mother’s chest. Listening to the lull of her heart. She pushes those feelings back down and continues to work harder and faster than before. Praying for it to numb her, for a little while longer. This girl finally makes it home again at night. She takes off her learned smile… And tucks the skeletons back into her closet. Curling up in the corner of her bed for the evening, and closes her eyes….She knows that soon, she will have to wake up…. She will stare into the face of the person she recognizes the least… Into her own painted eyes. Eyes that have become cloudier through the years.
I realize how long and incoherent this post is… But I guess just having it out there is enough. Because these thoughts weigh my mind constantly. Endlessly. Hopelessly. A never ending paradox of morbidity.