I feel so desperately bad. So desperately alone. So desperately lonely. It’s not a steady pulsating pain, it’s gasping for air and screaming. I’M ALL ALONE! I feel like no matter what words I use I can never convey what I’m feeling. I’m just so hopeless.
I need someone to help me, to hold me, to heal me. But that doesn’t work now does it? No, because my body, my mind and my heart rejects every ray of light, and turns away all the open arms. I’m wondering if I’m broken! I think I’m broken. And you can’t hear me choking on all of this, on this night, on this life. Fuck. It hurts so bad!
I think the only way for me to feel close to someone, connected to the world, would be if they sliced me open and reached in and grabbed my heart. “Hush, darling, you’re not alone.” Maybe not even then.
I’m gonna say it, what we dread saying because we don’t wanna offend, and because we don’t wanna minimize someone else’s pain: I wish I had been raped and beaten instead. I would have known it all would soon be over, and I would’ve had a safe haven somewhere else and I wouldn’t question whether or not what was done to me was wrong. Instead I’ve lived for two decades believing I deserved it all.
(Please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m sure someone would rather have what I’ve had instead. But fact is we don’t know how we would’ve reacted to the other, but it’s still easy to think “if only”. And many end up where I am because of rape and abuse too, I guess the best thing would be to have happy things instead. But yeah, whatever, I think we all think like that once in a while. We image having the ailments we don’t have as better than the one we do have.)
And he doesn’t even know he ruined my life.
It hurts. So. Bad.