Anthology of Abuse: February 20, 2015

I will admit, when reading through my old entries preparing them for publication, it is hard not to censor myself. It is hard not to trim pieces out that point to my weakness and fragility at the time, because I am such a different person now. Something inside me tells me that it is embarrassing that I was ever stuck in this frame of mind, this beaten down place of submission. But if I censored myself or edited out pieces for the sake of comfortability, I would be lying. To myself and to you. So it is with slight hesitation, but grand need to speak my truth, I offer you these entries unedited and raw. To depict the person I was then, not the woman I am now. I have grown from the fragile girl I once was, but I can’t forget her. She made me who I am today.

When is enough, enough? I know I won’t stand for these things. I know I won’t let myself be treated this way. So why am I still here? I can’t even tell my friends the truth about what you actually said to me, because they would lose respect for me for not having any respect for myself. I will not watch myself go down the same path my parents went down. But I am! Before, tears would stream angrily down my red hot face. In the shower I could not decipher what was coming from my eyes from what was coming from the faucet. So emotionally charged and angry I could scream. Tonight, my face turned to stone. Red hot, but otherwise emotionless. My mouth pressed in a hard line, not a single tear threatening to fall. Numb pain. What does this mean? Am I done? I know if you tried to leave I would throw my hands up and scream in protest. Apologize even though I know I am not wrong. Why am I still here? Why is my soul still tethered? If you left I know you would become another reason on the list of why I am so cold. I am fragile. Why do you treat me this way? I know I do not deserve it, but why can’t I just go? The hardest, saddest part is that I don’t have any answers. My mind and heart are jumbled. They always say listen to your gut. My gut is telling me to run away. Fast. I think I am still here because I am scared it could be the worst decision I ever make. I am even more scared it could be the best. I am so close to everything I have ever wanted. So close. Is that what keeps me holding on? Like a rabbit chasing a carrot on a string. It’s always so close. When is enough, enough? I really don’t know. All I know is that I am scared. Scared and sad and confused and alone. It is dark.

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