All Alone

Did you ever walk into a crowded room and not even one person turned their head. Nobody looks up to even notice you and if they do it is to say hi to the person who walked in behind you. Even though I am surrounded by so much life I feel like my existence here is taken for granted. The most I get to do is what is required to keep them alive with a few of the additives mixed in. I sit alone on holidays counting down the hands of he clock. I wish I could get excited about living again but I even know that is a slim to no chance. Every free moment I take a have to fight for and it is usually at another’s expense. I am at the bottom of my own priority list which is growing harder to ignore. I see the way some look at me and even worse the way they pretend to care. Does anybody reach out anymore to check in or is it only to see what you can do. Every waking moment an even sleep I am running on empty trying to make their lives worthwhile. I have never felt so insecure about my existence or even worse I just want it to end. The pain that always comforts me, the sorrow from within.

I wish I knew what it would feel like to be truly loved by another. The only thing I can think of is I am destined to live like this forever. Nobody will ever love me in the way that I have dreamed. I have always been cast away like garbage ever since I was a teen. The tears that escape my eyes provide sweet comfort as they roll of my check. At least I know I can still feel, they haven’t stolen that away from me yet. They took away my ability to be truly happy and at peace. It is true what they say. I am worthless to most people as I surround myself with memories. I thought I knew what loved felt like in the eyes of my best friend. My dad was my hero and my heart remains broken without him. How can I be all that I can be when half is me is empty. I wish I could be like other and stop this insane parade of memories I am not sure even exist. What did I do that was so awful? Am I really a poor excuse for a women and even more so as a mom. I know I am not worthy of the title of daughter. Why did this happen to me?

I thought what I wanted was the power to live free but when it was given to me all I did was engage in all the wrong things. People scare me. They scare me to the point where I can’t even talk. I am so scared to be hated that I probably come across as cold and unsure. There was a time when all I wanted to be was mean. I embraced the rage that poured out of me I even knew it well by name. I don’t want to play games anymore. I see my place in the Universe and all I can do is preserve my love and light. There is still some sanity in there that I reserve for my son, my love. The hardest struggle I have ever had to face was the one where I have to pretend to smile. I hate that this is how I feel. I never knew that life could feel like this. I know love and respect is earned so maybe I am not worthy of such feelings. I was just a little girl when it all happened. I am sorry for all that I have done. When I think of how long I covered up the abuse and allowed others to speak to me as they will, a piece of me was dying. That little girl suffocated amongst all the lies and hate that found her preventing her from ever feeling free and safe. My social skills are limited because nothing has ever made sense. How would the family of a girl who was raped and abused let her believe that she welcomed that behaviour all the same. Have you heard you Dad and his new wife gossip about you like you were last week’s trash that was forgot to be taken out. They tell anybody who will listen that I am a good for nothing drunk. They excuse away my absence like I deserved all this and more. I wish I were the pieces more like my sister’s who could care less about their being.

I cry a lot more it seems with every day that passes. I am scared of not knowing the man my Dad has become even though his blood boils when you mention my name. All I wanted was a chance to be like every other girl. The girls who grow up perfect with their name’s whispered from the popular boy’s lips. I was always the garbage to everybody it seems. Once they know you are no longer virtuous they only see you as the filth that you have become. I want to be noticed for being that little girl. I want it to be ok for me to think of love that it doesn’t end in a heavy hand. I have always been worried of ending up all alone. I didn’t think that meant leaving my family holed up in another’s dream. Their dreams have become my nightmare and nothing will ever be the same Living in the present is hard when half of me is stuck in 1994. I have to yell and act crazy just for anybody to turn their head. I can’t live the way that some do, my heart longs to go back to the way it was before.

I wonder if it is because I am like them and hate the rest of the world because it doesn’t serve me. Maybe that is why I struggle because other than maintaining these four walls I truly have no other purpose. Not many check in and ask how I am doing. Sitting down is a luxury that I can no longer ignore. If I were to micromanage better every life that I absorbed maybe I would find a way to be happy out standing all alone.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Woodsy says:

    You’re writing with an authentic voice, not trying to tag solutions on the end of stuff that doesn’t come with an answer.
    Maybe that’s a purpose in that.
    It’s not a space many would like to recognise, not a space you’ll see marketed in popular, glib, head-turning circles…
    but there are those who will read it and say: YES…
    Totally… THIS.


    1. πŸ’™πŸ’™πŸ’™


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