The last few days, I have felt like what happened to me at 13 is very clearly present and very heavy. My heart hurts for that little girl who just wanted to belong, and my heart hurts for me because I still have to work through this. I am trying to figure out my feelings and thoughts, and it's a lot. It's a kind of sad that is bottomless. It's a kind of hurt that aches to the very bone. It's feeling less than human and wanting to be anywhere but in your own skin. It's feeling like your insides are screaming, and people just keep looking at you and smiling. It's that smell that you can't stand that you can never forget. It's all of those things and more. It feels like I am in the fight of my life, wanting more than I ever imagined and wanting to forget the hell that has happened.
I am trying to remember that day was long ago—lifetimes ago. I am trying to remember that I am strong and safe today. I am trying to remind myself of all those things. I am trying to be present in the moment today. I know it wasn't yesterday. But it's frustrating at almost 50 to feel overwhelmed about something I had no control over.
There are feelings that I can't quite put my finger on, but they are strong and, on the surface, seem so untouchable. All I can explain is the day after, I had to tell and was lying in the back of the car. It was chilly, but the sun was out, and there was a warmth. My whole body was still so bruised and hurt I was just lying in the back seat. I felt the sun and was grateful, the smell of the happy meal took me to a much simpler place, when my world was even a little safer. I can remember just wanting to lay there forever in the back of that Nissan Altima. I wanted to forget all that was happening around me and just be. I can close my eyes and feel that sun. I had no idea what would be ahead of me that day. I just wanted to disappear and pretend that I had never said a word. Leave me alone, let me heal, and like I always do, I will just keep moving. That is what I wanted more than anything.
For those first few days after I told, things seemed to move in slow motion. There was all this commotion around me, and simultaneously, my world slowed down. Everyone expected me to react and feel something, but they never understood that this was just what happened to me. This is what I was used to, yes this was more violent there were more of them, in so many ways it was different. But in many ways, it was the same people taking things that were not theirs to take. People hurting me, I wasn't even a person anymore. The 5 of them treated me as less than human, and the people around me were doing the same things in a different way. I was dying inside, and no one saw me. I was behind in life, going through the motions, a puppet playing by their rules. Just like that two days later not another word was spoken, I was left to fend for my own heart and soul.
It's crazy that all this time later, I could close my eyes and be back in that car that day; in those moments, I focused on the sun, my happy meal, and the little bird that got one of my french fries by the car. I was all alone, in so much pain, and everyone had their own agenda. There were two days of everyone trying to cover their tracks, and nothing changed for me. Everyone just moved on pretending I wanted attention, I was just the unpopular chubby girl who would want to do that to me. So in my head, I became a liar and a slut and somehow knew that I asked for it. Someone would have taken care of me if it was that bad.
This is the heaviest weight that one could ever imagine. I am moving on, trying to become the person that I was meant to be. The chains of this time are strong and have a grip that I don't understand. It's frustrating, all that I am accomplishing now, if I didn't have these thoughts and memories on reply just imagine all that I could accomplish. I am working so hard, so hard. It's just extremely painful and so hurtful that no one cared enough to be with me.
I heart your heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment