I've had enough , even my sad is sad

Standing on a line a very thin line and there is so much pain inside.  I am sadder than sad and I feel it in my bones. Normal little things are very big things and its exhausting.  I finally have a DR appointment and I am terrified. I hope that he is kind, that he is able to hear and that he truly listens.  I hate things hurting and being in pain, I hate noticing and feeling the things that are going on in my own kin. Its like there are a million hands all over me, and I just can't get away.  Hands are not just hands . Hands are something that hurt and can do so much damage. Hands are evil and do terrible things.  Lately I feel oh so many hands and my heart is scared and overwhelmed. I know things are not happening, but my head and my heart are not on the same page.  I feel their hands in my nightmares and feel their hands when I am awake. I know this is just a time, but its a terrible one and I am struggling. I am going under. I am not ok. 

I heart your heart 

 

Courage is a shapeshifter

                                                             Courage is a shapeshifter

I do not like the word really , it doesn't fit 

I think strong, brave, beautiful confident 

because the words that have been spoken have all but made me believe that I am not

I am everything pesky, burdensome and needy 

Some days I think I find a piece of my courage that is, I think I do

And for that time, I feel like I am on top of the world, 

but it doesn't last and even the smallest thing feels like I am a nothing lost in the blackness of the ocean.

but those things are not meant for me 

The being loved and cared for

cherished and admired are things for other girls

girls that aren't shameful and dirty

Girls that ........that aren't all the things I am

People have said I have courage, and I want to believe that

To me courage would be 

loosing the fear, the hate and disgust of being in my own skin

Courage would be being proud of the eclectic, weird, other than person that I am

I am not courageous, I am scared every singe day, I feel too much 

I wake up sometimes dreading my next breathe

I have always been a persons plan B 

A persons person when there was something that was needed. 

When I fit some need that they had 

and out of desperation and wanting to be wanted I fill their need and am left when something better comes along

There are numerous betters , like millions and billions of betters 

and I am left. 

My courage is that quiet in the morning when I feel the heavy of the day before my feet hit the floor

My courage is thinking of others, never wanting them to know the things I have felt. 

I am the courage to help others as I lay drowning

Even as my lungs are filling with water, I will reach out to help who ever might be in need

Courage is knowing that I am drowning and still trying to wave for help knowing that others will just 

wave 

Courage is the tears that I cry in the shower because they are an inconvenience

I always always keep going and I wonder what the day will look like when I can sit in courage 

When I can politely say yes I have courage and yes I am hurting and yes I will always make sure that you are safe and sound 

I want to sit and wrap myself in the courage that others talk about me having ,

I want to feel that type of courage in my bones 

Someday I will find it, someday I will be courageous, I will.

Just imagine being a court reporter in my head

 

Oh the conversations in my head.  The things that others have said that cut like a knife. The things that people have said that were cruel, and thoughtless.  I have had a lot of those kinds of things said directly to me, other times I have gotten them second hand, either way they are painful. The kinds of things that stick with you, that burn a hole in your heart .  I hear them, I listen and I take it all in. So really being a court reporter in my head is more of a one sided conversation. I just take their words, saying nothing, letting them sink into every fiber of my being. I have great comebacks, and ways to let them know that their words are not ok, but they never make their way past my lips.  I am not sure why really.  Maybe because when you are bombarded by terrible awful, you do what you have to do and just keep moving.  When you know that people just don't listen, you just don't speak and you learn to live in your head hoping maybe someday there will come a time for your time. Why do I just keep my thoughts to myself, why I let others evil words sting like a bee and I leave the stinger because its easier . Its easier keeping the truth in and not saying a word than speaking your truth and not being heard.  I think there is a part of me that worries that they might be right.  That I am the things that they have said. That I should be different, be better, be less needy and more likeable. I worry all the time that their words are true.  I play and replay so many conversations in my head, wondering if I am that unworthy.  I worry that I am dwelling, that I am holding on and that people will see me coming and run.  Everyone knows the thought of being that person makes my skin crawl.  I have been the brunt of jokes and had others laugh in my face.  I have been made fun of and ridiculed for the things that I hold most dear.  I have had words spoken that I am sure they wouldn't  want spoken to their daughter.  I have been treated as indifferent as a piece of furniture in the room. Insignificant in every possible way. Tears streaming, heart on my sleeve and nothing for that girl sharing all that she has in her soul.  People have said things that they know nothing about, accusations that no one would ever do that to me, accusations that I just want attention....Please what should it be surely it can't be both .....So what is it am I lying or just craving attention or hey maybe both.  How dare a man from the church say that I should have kept my legs closed, and how dare my mother repeat those words that he said to me, was she trying to break my heart ?  Not once did anyone ask of the situation, ask me if I was ok.  So many things.  In a counseling session and talking about being at the end of my rope caring for my children trying to complete school, and so cold and callous the words I made my bed now lie in it. Still searching and yet another counselor, when I shared how I was so struggling I was compared to an alcoholic and told it sucks to be you.  I have sat in counselors offices and been screamed at and belittled and no one took my side and stood up for me.  I have been in a counseling session and asked how many men raped me, I answered 5 and not another question was asked.  Maybe they didn't understand the answer Maybe they didn't care to hear either way there is no reaction no care and concern for my life of a mere 13 years.  And come to think of it, there was not a response from my parents either. I was just a little girl who came close to death trying to figure out what had happened and how to keep breathing with no adult help at all. They came  close to killing me, those 5 and I was on my own. So many times my world went black that day because it was something unimaginable and yet no one askes questions, no one cares what I went through, what I survived; its all about them. Not one person asked about what happened to me. My entire life I felt like I was a burden, a bother a pest.  I was always in the way Always making things difficult and complicated.  I was not worth anyone's time,  care or worry.  Even when I spoke not one adult showed any care for my little heart. Not doctors, no teacher, counselors or my very own parents.  I knew growing up in my house I was meant to smile and keep secrets.  Deal with the pain of a million lifetimes and oh yes please be a normal human.  I have never fit in anyone's box of what they thought I should be, I have had an edge and never followed the same path, and so I became, more of an outcast, a loner, the sad girl who could only watch from afar, never allowed to join.  We all know something so gross and disgusting can never be a real part of any group. You may for a time, but truly, your not a part and I always knew it.  When others views about church and religion can't make it all better, I made to feel like a waste of time and I just don't believe in god enough, I don't have enough faith or pray enough. I can't even how hard I used to pray not to wake up in the morning to survive another day, how is that for praying!  I am blamed and made to feel like yet another thing is wrong with me.  So many things wrong with me, a liar, a pest, an attention monger,  you name it!  So you see I learned really fast to smile, have those conversations quietly in my head because no one can hear the things that need to be said. No one can hear the things that weigh on my heart, that weigh me down, that tear at every fiber of my being each and every day. They can't hear because to them I am not worth it, I am not important or needed. I challenge everyone's views of what I should have done, how I survived and either there was too much or not enough emotion. In the end I suffered greatly because its always been just me and the conversations I hold in my head.   

I heart your heart