Underneath the Darkness

Did you ever try so hard to get your happiness back, but you end up failing in every possible way? That when you felt your joy being sucked right out of you instead of running for the high hills you decided to turn and forever stay. What I thought was the best of an opportunity ended up crumbling right before my eyes. The only thing I can’t stop myself from thinking about is will I ever know happiness again before I die.

I cry every day. The routines that I have come to love so dearly I got teased about mercifully, so I had to put all those things I treasured dearly and tuck them safe away. There is an oddity about having to be a part of something that isn’t working in its entirety, yet I am forced to have to stay here another day.

I feel so alone. There isn’t much joy inside these walls once the man of the house comes home. Any laughter ceases to exist between these four walls as he lowers down the boom how it is we are meant to play. It always has to be done around his schedule and whatever he wants to do has to be done. I can’t tell you what it feels like to have your whole world come crumbling down around you from a narcissist who believes he is above everybody who comes to enter inside this room.

I have tried so hard to rally up behind me but every which way I feel I have been set up to fail. According to my husband it is all me and my unrealistic expectations of the way that life is supposed to feel but I can’t shake away that feeling of how it was supposed to be.

I think a part of me became vegetarian because I was tired of cooking meals for a house that would just get thrown away. I hate that we don’t even do anything as a family, well except fight. We have perfected that activity and it breaks my heart over what we have done.

I have a super high expectation of the way my life was supposed to be and that includes not wasting money on burning cigarettes inside this house. I am tired of smelling like an old ash tray I didn’t quite 6 years ago just to watch my whole future go up in smoke. My husband has said more than once that he hates me more than anything in this world that he only put up with me because of our son. How am I supposed to feel? I wish I could get up the courage to just leave.

I feel bad for wanting to take up space in a homeless shelter. In my mind physical abuse is way harder than anything that is being done at home to me. I just feel like a loser devoid of all emotion, except for crying. It is the only emotion that I have and use to comfort me.

I have a photographic memory for all the bad things that have happened to me, and I play them over and over again on repeat just for me. I can tell you what it feels like to be hated. That is a feeling and emotion that has never been lost on me.

Am I a lazy loser who just mooches off of my husband and sits around this house? I never imagined that when I gave up my Beautician career to be a stay-at-home mom that there would be all this abuse that I would be forced to endure over all of these years. The animals that always had an open-door policy were always mine to take care of and were never meant for him. If something happened to me there would be nobody left to take care of them, it was a novelty that has since been bestowed upon me. Like a noose over my head, I tend to them all in the loving fashion that they deserve never questioning this life path until I am forced to do so and more.

Is this a life that was meant to be walked in solidarity? Too painful to walk alone so I acquire anything with fur and feathers to keep me company, to waste away my days until the Goddesses above finally come for me. Is this my purpose to endure an unending supply of sh*t and abuse only to watch those that I have come to love to draw on their last breath and decide to leave? Every time one of them has crossed over I have borne the burden of that weight on my own.

There is something to be said for loving something so much that your world changes the day that they finally say goodbye. The day that Sweet Lucille left this world is still too much for me to bare even though it happened almost a year and a half ago. She was there through it all and always comforted me when it hurt that it is hard to pick myself up and get myself out of the dirt. All I remember as she lay on that table before they took her away is that I had to run and kiss her paws and that I made a wish that I would see her one day.

I traverse this world with little human companionship because I am tired of what humans have done. I am tired of how they pretend like they are the be all end all who laugh and ridicule you when you fall. That if I could run away with all these pets I would do so as fast as I can. I am tired of being made inferior especially to any man. One that had promised and lied to cherish me above all others. I don’t want to know what I should do anymore these days all I know is I am getting tired of hiding underneath all these covers.

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