PAIN
I am in pain, not just in my body, yes my body hurts too. It always hurts. Not as much as the inside hurts, hurts like it always has hurt. I don't remember a time it didn't hurt. I don't remember a time just existing didn't hurt. I survived abuse, only to hurt, I survived a worthless childhood only to hurt. I have survived death, from myself and from circumstances I couldn't prevent, only to hurt. I hurt so much, I am in pain. Mentally, I am drowning, mentally I am in pain. I keep fighting, have fought, keep fighting, I am so tired of fighting.
I should feel like I have everything I ever wanted. I do technically have everything I ever wanted, ever fought for. Instead I feel like I am fighting to keep the things I always wanted. I feel like no matter what I do, I keep waking up each and every day to a new fight, or an old one that rises back up to force me to keep fighting. Fighting has made me older than years, my fighting has destroyed me, fighting has made me angry, fighting has made me bitter, fighting has made me numb. Hopelessness envelopes me. I don't feel like fighting anymore, I am tired. I am so fucking tired. I am tired of fighting, I am tired of hurting, I am tired of being in pain. I don't know how to keep fighting, I don't know how to keep living in pain.
I don't feel like I even have a choice there, because there is someone who needs me here, needs me to stay here. There are two someone's, who would miss if I were gone, would grow up not knowing the woman who writes this post. Not knowing how hard she fought only to loose in the end, if I do loose. I feel like I am going to loose tonight, I feel too tired tonight. I feel too tired to keep fighting. I don't have a choice, I have to keep fighting, I have to stay here, even when I don't want to stay here. Even when I don't want to be in pain, even when I am so fucking tired.
Mentally, I am damaged, eternally. I am damaged in a way I had no say over, to control, to stop. Still I live as the broken person other's took their time to create. I am forced to live my life as the person other's tried so desperately to destroy. Shouldn't that give me proof? Proof I can keep fighting, proof I can still survive? Then why doesn't it? Why doesn't it make me feel like I can fight the last person standing in my way...me? Why can't I fight me, or what parts of me are still me, maybe it isn't me. Maybe there are no more parts left inside that are me.
Who even was me? I don't think I have ever known who me is, who me is now, who will ever be me. Shouldn't I be strong enough to keep fighting? Shouldn't I be able to live past the pain? Why is it so hard to fight the brokenness that is now me? Why do I hate me...why can't I find a new me if I hate this me that is now me. Maybe it's because I never felt wanted, maybe it is because I never felt loved, maybe it is because I never felt like I had any right to be alive. Maybe it is because I still feel this way. Maybe it's because I am still stuck fighting....even if sometimes that fight is only with me. Maybe the fight is useless, maybe it is destined to end with me.
Maybe pain is supposed to stop when I stop breathing, maybe it won't even then. It is so hard, to think that I will never feel anything but pain. Maybe I am too broken and gone to feel anything but pain. Even in my happiest moments, I still can feel the pain lingering in the backdrop of my mind. Like an animal hunting me, waiting for me to become weak again so it can pounce and strike. Waiting so it can rip out the pieces of myself that I spent years duct taping onto myself. The pieces I tried to add to feel some sense of wholeness. A feeling I have never gotten to bask in. Not even for more than a moment, because those pieces are forced in, they are forced on with adhesive that just won't fucking stick.
I hate mirrors, I don't look into them, all I see is what is left. What they left me with, what they allowed me to keep, because for some reason, they wanted me to keep those pieces of me that weren't taken away. Parts of me I don't even recognize as me anymore. Parts that made me suspectable, parts that made me malleable. Parts of me that made me who they wanted, while they ripped out the parts of me that fought them to save myself. I never got to save myself. I left, I ran, I stayed hidden, and yet I didn't get to save myself in the end, because my mind is altered, my mind is altered. I have been left in pain, I have been left in pieces, I am the biproduct of the things done to me. I am the biproduct of experiences I never wanted, experiences that even if I did try to fight, I always lost. I still feel like I am loosing.
I am a million miles away, I am years away from the things that broke me, and yet it still feels here. It still feels like it is all sitting here beside me. Mocking me for still being alive, for fighting to stay alive, mocking me for choosing to stay alive even when I am broken and in pain. I want my demons to leave, I want them to leave me alone, I want to be whole, I don't want to be in pain. I don't want to be broken, I am so fucking tired of fighting, I want the fight to be over.
I just also want to be alive at the end of it all when I can finally stop fighting. I don't want to be dead, I don't want to know that I lost and they won, but how the fuck do I do this...when living in pain is so hard...and I am so fucking tired of fighting...how...how do I make sure it happens....how do I keep fighting the pain....how do I keep fighting the biggest thing in my way...how do I keep fighting...me? Or...I guess, the biproduct...that is now me...