I had to write something. To someone and you're the first person that came into my mind. I wanted to call, but you're sleeping and hopefully I'll be sleeping soon too.
My heart feels so full. I wish it was of love, but tonight if felt as though it was going to shatter. And the shards would scatter about like shiny crystal jewels waiting to cut an unsuspecting admirer. I wish sometimes that I could just run away from everything. To pick up and leave, turning my back completely and turning off everything I feel for those around me.
I remember being 9 years old and writing a letter. I wrote it over and over a few times, trying to get down everything I wanted to say, but being short enough not to bore anyone. My run away letter was something I started at 9. And I feel as though it recited and written along my heart, following my journey every where I go.
Most of the times I don't even think about it. I don't even remember the memory. But days like today make me remember. It brings me back to that place where I hate my mother a little because of how's shes been and what she's done. It brings me back to who I really am and who I think and everyone thinks I am. Brings me back to how painful it feels to really truly think about whats going to happen between us.
It brings me back to the guilt, the shame, the pain I feel.
I feel sometimes that the deeper I go into therapy, the harder it is to forget the 9 year old me. This is the bottom and I am working my way back up to being healed I suppose. I write this and I'll probably never send it to you. Probably put it in my blog and leave it be. Because the truth is hard. The truth is painful. The truth is what makes me want to run away. It's hard to breathe when the truth feels like this. Hard to want to be alive. And yet I am.
I sit here and cry these tears and try to let go. And a big part of me can't. I'm 24, almost 25 already and feel like nothing. And yet I know how accomplished I am. I know whats I've done with my life. But I also know that I am less than I use to be. I am held back. I am damaged. And that leaves me alone. All by myself. In the darkness. And I welcome the darkness because no one can really see me. It feels safe. But it's not all that good.
I wish. I wish to God that we could be. We could just be who we are supposed to be, in the world, to each other. But we can't. You are not going to change. You just aren't. And I have to ask myself: Am I willing to sit by and let you do what you want to do and just take it OR do I admit the truth and walk away? Let myself mourn my loss and move on.
My deranged aunt get out of jail in December. I don't know who she'll come looking for, but I don't want her to find me. My mother won't stop drinking and for all the problems she has, she blames someone else. My father was mean to me a lot of the times, a womanizer and I look just like him. The man I love just can't stay faithful... its just not in his nature, but he says he loves me.I love them. I love them all so very much and yet they pain me. Their humanity pains me.
I'm trying not to be an addict. To fight whats inside of me. I'm trying to live and survive and be. Especially out of all the imperfections I come with.
I was ok. Last couple weeks, the darkness was there, but I was ok. Focusing on my manifestation board. Focusing on all the good that was happening and continues to happen. And then the darkness got darker, sucked me under, plagued me with its sweet sweet song and lulled me into its arms. And now my face is tear stained and all I can't think about is running away.
And I have therapy tomorrow. Sigh.
I don't know if I can write anymore. I still have all this light from other angles in my life. My trip. My work. My apartment. But the darkness is there, creeping along.Reminding me of all the problems in my life. Reminding me that they are the constant, not the light, joyful things.
I need to breathe, take a moment and get back out there; collected and ready to keep it moving.
If only it were that easy.
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