Goodbye

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You tainted my body. Literally in all ways. Through my blood and through my soul.

It was five years ago, when it started. And it’s still haunting me now. For five years I’ve been walking around suppressing emotions and feelings I didn’t even know I had. I could not realise them then, because I did not have time. I had already left you, and home, and everything; I was on plane two days after I knew what you had done to me. Straight to another world where I didn’t have to look back at you, or look deep into me. Avoid it, suppress it, ignore it.

I was stubborn. Too stubborn to admit I was hurt. ‘I am not weak’, ‘I will strive forward’, ‘this will not ruin me’. I can see now that it ruined me. Not listening to my body, mind, soul; that’s what ruined me. I should have listened then, and I should have told someone – anyone – how much I hurt.

Goodbye.

Dance Partners

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We are dance partners; yet we have never met.

We skit and flirt at the lowest of times and decide if we will ever meet for real.

I toy with the likelihood of our paths crossing ever happening. Who it will affect most, what impact it would have. If assumptions will be made. Assumptions are made to soften our own inability to comprehend the incomprehensible.

It’s on the rise, ‘they’ will say. They were always too emotional, too weak, too sensitive, as if it was bound to happen one day. It’s a trend, it’s the rise of the internet, it’s the pressure of modern day living, they were damaged, they were too much of a thinker, an analyser, a middle child. Labels without value.

You are always the last resort, the back-up plan, you’re supposed to be a comfort; to know there is an out, a final point, a conclusion to the circus of thoughts in my mind.

Yet I cannot be that desperate, as we have not yet met. I think of those it would hurt the most and I don’t want to be responsible for causing such pain, some would never heal. I think secretly some would be relieved, as if they didn’t know what to do with me in the first place and therefore, they are freed from the burden. There is also a dark part of me that thinks it would teach some a lesson. How awful of me. Such deep shame.

In some ways I crave the peace you would give me, a serenity that I have not found, yet. Though I know there are other options, a grey area in the middle. I know what would be advised, decisions to make, changes to implement, but they would involve a strength and energy that I don’t know if I have left, or can even muster.

So, nothing has happened, as yet. We meet once in a while, continue our dance, we toy with the notions, the ideas, the likelihood. Mostly you disappear fast and let me carry on as I am. Until the next time. Then it all begins again.

My Struggle Within

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What did I do to deserve this? What did I do to make you not love me anymore? Why don’t you care? How could you abandon me?

These are the questions that I ask myself all day long, but the truth is I didn’t do anything, you never loved me – not really. I was never good enough for you, I was too independent for your liking. I reminded you too much of yourself and you didn’t like that. And when I started to want a life outside of you and your husband, that was the last straw for you. That’s when you both let the façade fall, so slowly at first that I didn’t notice and then you let it go entirely and we’ve ended up here.

At first, I was lost and confused – and in a way I still am – I couldn’t understand why you abandoned me, what I had done to drive you to make such a decision. I sunk further into the darkness that I had only just begun to dig myself out of.

But then I realised that it wasn’t me. It was all you. You’re the one who can’t get over past events, you’re the one who called me my father’s daughter in an attempt to wound me. But it only stoked the fire of independence burning inside of me.

I began to wonder how dare you do this to me? All I ever did was try to make you happy, my life revolved around you for 16 years. Now I see that was a waste of my time, I should have put my energy to better use. I shouldn’t have this many regrets at this stage in my life, after all, I was only a child back then – I wasn’t to know any better.

For so long I’ve blamed myself, wondered if I could have done something differently to make you stay, wondered what I did wrong, wondered what it was about myself that made you leave. But I’ve come to realise that it’s not me at all, it’s you. It always has been, right from the start.

You’ve systematically tried to separate me from the family, you’ve even turned my own brother against me. But what you don’t realise is that you’ve alienated everyone else in the process. You tried to isolate me and only succeeded in pushing me towards the people who really care about me.

And yeah, I’m lonely and struggling but I won’t let you win – because I’m a survivor.

Irresponsible Avoidance Parenting

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Why did you have us if you weren’t going to care? Was it just so you could become the image? Or did you really want us but you just didn’t know how to split your time? Didn’t know how much effort it would take?

It’s okay for me now, because I have figured out enough on my own. But what about him – he thinks he’s enjoying life but he doesn’t know how much he’s missing. He’s barely even opened the box. You’ve kept him there without even knowing you were, or what you were doing to both of us by not giving us boundaries. Not giving us boundaries meant for me I was always looking for them and for him, he could just carry on with his own self-indulgent existence. You have to ask him, nag him, demand him to take out the recycling for one time only and it’s the biggest inconvenience to him and his routinely planned evening. The recycling, for fuck’s sake. And you don’t even ask him, I do. Ask him to wash the dishes after dinner and he’ll huff and say he’ll do it when he’s ready. Ask him to wash the bathroom and he’ll say he can’t see dirt, even though the place is ridden with mould; green, black, and white mould. What the fuck? Why do you let him live that way? Why did you let me live that way? I’m not supposed to be the one instructing the rules onto a 30-year-old child.

He has a problem and I told you three years ago and I thought you listened to me because you nodded your head at me as if you knew I was right and you said ‘yeah, I know, I know’. But you didn’t want to know. You know there’s a problem but you’re avoiding it just like you avoid everything. Avoid deep conversations, that as it turns out could have been beneficial to me when I was too young to recognize that other children were getting maybe more information than I was. I had to figure it out on my own. Alone.

Maybe I’m being too harsh on you. Maybe my memory is playing tricks on me and you were there and you did tell me things, but I’ve just blanked it from my memory. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I’m making out. Maybe I am the guilty one. The one who needed you too much, was too fragile and needy that I couldn’t cope without you and you just had too much other stuff to do, so your capacity was all you could give but mine was still too empty; because I was needing too much.

Or maybe you just weren’t there. And now, years later I tell you I’m in counselling for cocaine, ecstasy, and one night stands, and you tell me not to be too high maintenance or my new saviour boyfriend might grow tired of me.

Isolation

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To be alone, even when you’re not. To be trapped, even when you have choices. To be happy with your own company, even when it’s not sustainable.

Fireworks, friends, drinks. All the things happening outside of this space, the quiet and tranquil space I am occupying – of my choice. How times are different. Different, but somewhat the same. The same more recently, but vastly different from before. Development, change, metamorphosis. The process of change: adjust behaviours, adjust surroundings, adjust mentality. The problem: society.

Society believes in fun, reward, quantity. The society I am living in does, anyway.

Everywhere I look there are reminders of unfulfilled people trying to live fulfilled lives, but what they are is deluded and confused, not knowing what they don’t know. Not knowing that searching [aimlessly] and avoiding [pain] are causing damage to the unconscious anxieties. Not knowing that boundaries are stable, and boredom is progression, and routine is freedom. How dare you break free from us? How dare you demand difference? ‘You must enjoy life, you must be with people, you must be out.’ Well, to enjoy is in moderation, to be with people is to be understood, to be out is when it’s worthy.

To tell you “I am good” is telling you nothing at all. To accept it is showing me nothing. I might as well be confirming nothing but my existence unless you probe further or give me more. Shake me, awake me, tell me how you feel. Tell me anything; how you hate being the new girl at work, how you and your partner want to have a child soon, how you’re troubled in work, how you had a bad day, a great day, anything more than nothing.

You hear me talk but you don’t acknowledge what I’m saying. You heard me, I know you did because you asked a related question. Why can’t you acknowledge what I said? I know you care, you show me in other ways. But why can’t you acknowledge what I am saying now? Is it because it’s too foreign? Too far from where you wanted me to be? Too confronting for your own denial? Can you not feel my hurt? My confusion? Can you not tell I am standing here showing you the world I dreamt for myself isn’t here, that you dreamt for me? Why can’t you ask me how I am doing, with depth, with meaning, with force, with love? Ask me, even at all? You hear me talk, but you cannot respond. Not in the way I need, want, thought I had. It makes it clearer why I never told you anything, because you couldn’t respond the way I needed.

I am loved, I am surrounded, I am here. But, as I shake the earth I see who withstands the force; the structures of reliability tremor and I’m left to navigate the ruins. Searching for cover and somewhere firm to stand, with only few to console me, truly.

 

 

Losing Friendship

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I’m mad at you for not seeing me. You couldn’t see that I was changing. You couldn’t accept I wanted it, you only blamed someone else. You only saw someone else, you only saw him changing. But you couldn’t see it was me.

We had everything. We were everything. You could tell me things, and I could tell you things. We were everything. But, somewhere we got lost. I outgrew you as you got more lost. I was lost and you held me up. You caught me and knew how not to yell at me for you knew I would retreat. I betrayed you and you still stood by me and waited for me and let me understand for myself why I was broken, instead of convicting me for it. But then you stopped and you yelled at me and accused me. Telling me it would be a long way to fall. I had already fallen, babe. I had already fallen and you were there. You were there to catch me but this time you didn’t, you couldn’t. You couldn’t see that I was changing. I am only going up now and you are not ready to follow. You are not ready to follow because you haven’t fallen. You are lost, but you haven’t fallen. You still have your dignity, your pride, your skin. You still have it.

One day we will be together again, but my time has run out now. My time has run out and I can no longer be loyal to those who are doing nothing. Those who are still lost. And especially those who cannot see me, and who yell at me and tell me what to do. You became that. You became the person who yelled at me and instructed me on how I should behave. You couldn’t see me for what I wanted or how much I wanted change, needed change. I was just existing, just existing in the same old world of nothingness and emptiness. But most importantly you couldn’t see me anymore. You couldn’t tell I was different. Or maybe, maybe you didn’t want to. Or maybe, maybe you couldn’t because you can’t. You don’t get it. You don’t get it because you haven’t fallen and you don’t get it because you just don’t see what I see. I don’t believe that though, because we always use to see the same? So I just don’t know what happened, what changed? Why did you yell at me?

Are you afraid I am changing for him, because of your own past mishaps? What does it matter anyway, if he is helping me better? I am with him and I am changing, but I am not changing for him. I am changing for me, because I need this. I need this so badly for myself. He just happens to be there helping.

I wish you didn’t yell at me for I wanted you to come. But you can’t, not until you’re ready.