Breaking Point

I wish I could tell you ALL the details but the reality for me is the pressure in my brain always remains the same. There is this underlying fear that my best will never be good enough and all the love and compassion I have for my family will fall on deaf ears.

Me and my husband don’t get along at all. There is a fear that creeps into me every time he enters the room as I wait to hear about everything I have done wrong. I hate my life is a constant chant inside my head as I have become quite the coward to scared to rip that band-aide off.

There is that fear that those that don’t know me will exclaim that they were right. That I was never going to make a good mother, friend or even companion how hilarious the last few years have been watching you try to be a good wife.

How did I get so insecure. Years of being made fun of and being told that my dreams weren’t quite right. I am HIGHLY sensitive. More sensitive than most. I am guarded and I am protected as I try to get the best out of my life.

I recoil in fear most times because I live in a bubble where people just want to hurt. I cant remember a time when people were nice too each other instead of stabbing each other in the backs in every which way that they could and still can just to make one feel lower than dirt.

What makes somebody stay in one place is the same thing that makes another run away in fear. So why do I stay. Maybe my husband is right. Maybe I am lazy in the sense I don’t want to work for just anybody when I can stay at home and enjoy my life. Life only gets chaotic and uneasy when I don’t listen to what is being told to me but I just wish there was a different way too be.

I do believe that there should be value in the family unit but I am incredibly naive to what that could possibly mean. When too much damage has been done too each other I don’t know if there is any middle ground for two people to meet. My brain hurts from all the things that are said and there is no possible way that I can remember what was said word for word but I can remember the feeling because I used summary words to remind me of how I felt.

The one feeling that I am sure of is how we are not friends. I have a weird belief of how friends should behave and act around each other and I value the ones that I believe I have. Somebody who has your truest intentions at heart wouldn’t chose their words carefully so that you fall apart. Over and over again the same things are being said. They permeated my inner thinking and made a complete mess out of my head.

Instead of being bright and filled with life and personality I found myself thinking about death instead. Not that that was a place that I dreamed about going but I was trying to imagine the release that would happen the day that I took my last breath.

Imagine everyday hearing everything about you that makes you insecure. Like a tape set up on replay these words begin to erode your brain. It’s all I hear for the most part as I begin to hate myself just the same.

Everyday I live in fear because I know how it is people feel about me. Imagine having everybody look down at their nose at you when you tell them there is something wrong with your health. That what is wrong with me could make a normal person act insane and that it is not just circumstances taking up residency in brain.

My iron is so low that normal bodily functions are being compromised which means part of it is my physical make-up that is making me act this way. With little to no oxygen being given to my red blood cells every thing just remains stagnant until the next medical hiccup or blow.

Everyday I get laughed at because I can’t breathe. I hate getting made fun of everyday it has really had a monstrous affect on me. It’s hard to find even a little bit of joy inside of each day when you know all it takes is a second to have it all ripped away but I try.

I try knowing that I am going to get laughed and maybe forced to go away. I try knowing what other people feel about me or even what they might say. These days I am only drawn to the purest of energies. The kind that always has the best intentions and purity of heart. I don’t want anybody else to have to feel all the feelings that I am forced to feel when we all just have the same amount of opportunities given inside this cool, cold world.

Yesterday I hit a breaking point that finally had me asking for help. I hate taking up space when it comes to asking for somebody to help me because it isn’t violence I am running away from it is something else. It took a long time to get the courage to put my information into that form and hit send.

This morning I thought I would try talking to my husband about it, so through tear filled eyes I tried. What I told him is the form that I filled out didn’t service our area and I felt helpless enough to want to die. To finally have the courage to tell somebody what was happening in my life and have it thrown right back in my face defeated me. My husband’s laughter as he tried to call out my bluff crushed me.

The reason why I told my husband that I was trying to look for a way out is because I am still hopeful that there might be a change. I am hopeful that he might one day wake and want to save our family instead of ignoring what is happening right in front of us and rolling over to go to sleep.

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