Children of Trouble

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The way you looked at me with your big eyes filled with fear. The way you looked at me filled with joy. You are only small and you have so much behind you already. The depth of your eyes shows the knowledge beyond your years. You stand there with your heavy worry, snacking on a giant feast. How do you see the world? Why do you see bears? What is your story?

You make me feel like you’re the only thing that matters – the you’s of the world are the most precious things. You could be brilliant – the best and the most – if we can support you to flourish. Your innocence is scary but your weight is heavy. You know so much but so little at the same time. What will you become? Will I be here to see it? Will you be jailed for your anger or institutionalised for your obsession and your difference? How can I stop it? That is my role, isn’t it?

Who are we to judge how you should behave. Einstein was a lost boy but now he’s a hero. Hawkins is a genius but he was not “normal”. These, you, are the greatest beings, they could be at least.

Your beauty is paralysing as I watch you be precarious but proud. Your nature is soft but your mind is complex. What do you say, sir? Let’s see what else is behind those thick and velvet curtains. Let’s see what else has not yet escaped from that marvellous mind of yours. Let’s go.

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.

Please Join Me

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Why don’t you see it yet? I told you everything and almost begged you to see it…

You’re still there, still doing it. You left briefly and I hoped you would see it. You’re back now and you’re still there, still doing it.

Why can’t you see it yet? See it. I want you to see it. I want you to join me. Join me in the freedom, the liberation, the confidence, and the meaning.

Why? Why can’t you hear me? I told you what to do, I told you why you should, I didn’t tell you as an instruction – because I know you can’t be told – but I told you in a way which I thought you would see. But you haven’t yet, and I am sad to see you still there.

Come and join me in the happiness, the security, the safety of this world. It’s much more fulfilling, and I can see in your eyes that you want it. Your photos: you don’t look happy. Not genuinely. I can see through that, through you. You even basically told me you’re not happy. And you tried for a bit, to be fair. But that wasn’t enough. Maybe you need more guidance, more support. Maybe you need someone more – more than I am, more than I was. Am I ready? Am I ready to undertake the responsibility of that? I don’t know that I am. I still have my own struggles – logistics – to work through. But god, desperately I want you to join me. You’d be so much happier. I promise you. And I know you want it.

The Hidden Truth

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How do I feel? I feel lost, I feel alone, I feel confused, I feel exhausted, I feel angry, I feel unwanted, I feel livid, I feel unloved. I feel invisible.

All of these things are rushing through my body at the same time, all fighting for dominance; and yet the world expects me to be okay. I’m still meant to put on a brave face and hide how I really feel from the world. I am still expected to wear the mask that I have perfected over the years. The mask of a person who is coping with life, a person who isn’t phased by what life throws at them.

But it is all a lie.

I’m not coping, I simply pretend that I am. The people who are aware that I am struggling aren’t truly aware of how much. They don’t know the true extent of my struggle, of my depression. No one does. I have many masks for many different people. None of which are my true face. Only I can see behind the masks. Only I can see the truth staring back at me in the mirror.

The girl who is old before her time.
The girl without hope.
The girl who is barely recognised.
The girl who is 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.

 

 

Absent Parenting

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How would you know that I hadn’t been well? How would you know I am good at what I do? How would you know what my drink of choice is? How would you know I love swimming in the sea? How would you know I don’t like sand? How would you know you don’t need to worry about bailing me out? How would you know how adventurous I am? How would you know I can stand up for myself if I need to? How would you know that I can read social cues and not force myself on people? How would you know that people actually want me around? How would you know that I am the happiest I have ever been? How would you know how low I was before? How would you know that I asked for guidance to let you go? How would you know that I was always convinced I wasn’t part of you? How would you know I’ve never felt loved by you? How would you know the hardest bits that I have endured? How would you know what a rainbow of people I have in my life? How would you know I am not embarrassed by the things you are? How would you know I was brave enough to make this move? How would you know that I had saved and planned hard for this chapter?

How would you know all of these things?

For you have never asked. You have never listened. You have never shown interest. You have never shown you care or made me feel loved.

My doubts are born from you, all my niggles and hang-ups are from your voice over my shoulder. I’ve been scared, I’ve skirted along the bottom, I’ve stared the worst in the face. Life is beautiful, exciting, challenging, terrifying, the biggest lesson of all – each and every day. But it has to be lived, because it is fleeting and can be over in a flash. It must be savoured and every day you must find joy in something – whether that is a nice chat, a free parking space or a new little flower in bloom. For you are missing out on all of this, so coiled you are in your worries, fears and judgements.

Please don’t bother trying now; what you have to offer isn’t what I need and what I needed from you once upon a time, I no longer need. You don’t have it, I found it elsewhere. The most wonderful bunch of humans I love dearly have each offered me a puzzle piece, which put together fills the void you should have once stood in. You have missed out on so much; I am pretty decent, yet you have always focused on my failings or the worse-case scenario. I am exhausted by you, by thinking about you; you drain the life out of me. I don’t want to see you. I wish you well, I want you to find your own happiness.