Literally Nothing

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I battle with things, which as a Christian, I felt was not meant to be said.

But as a very self aware christian, I can admit the things I battle with..and the things I need God to help me with.

Back to what I was saying. I battle with things..me.

I'm my greatest stress, my greatest pain and my greatest fear.

I struggle with living.

I struggle with existing in this earth which was created for us.

I appreciate it, I appreciate the beauty of it.

Sometimes I wish I could dwell in it..simply just in the beauty of the earth.

Without the worries of life itself.

Like a plant, who survives by the earth, as it is from the earth. Watered by it, fed by it and groomed by it as well.

But I do this for myself, even in the slightest ways.

I have tried to make sense of what my purpose is, to myself.

All I know is living for others and never for myself.

I lived for my mother, lived for her and everyone else, until I understood how bad your life (referring to them) can hurt you.

And I wonder if it is in the way which I hurt myself. Maybe..just maybe..

In a way that I made them my life, and I was hurt by it. Is the same way in which I hurt myself, continuously.

I don't know for which purpose. Why do I hurt so much? Why do I?

The pain runs deep and is almost my entirety. I can not remember what it was like before it.

And anytime I came close to it, a sense of peace, it was ripped away just as swift as it came.

I begged to be loved and to be acknowledged. I begged to be beautiful, to be understood and to be heard.

I thought it all ended until it reappeared.

I'll start with my mum;

My first love, admittedly. I can understand the ways in which I have hurt her.

I have a responsibility, but it entails abandoning my own needs.

I keep referring to this quote, "When you're born in a burning house; you think the whole world is on fire." It was said by Richard Kadrey, I believe.

I didn't think my home was burning until I stepped out and got fresh air.

I can admit that in some ways; I regret it.

I wish I remained in the suffocating walls of my home, believing it was how everything was meant to be.

I miss the severity of my Innocence.

I miss believing anything at a heart beat, saying the truth and only lying about the simplest things: who ate the last slice of bread? -not me.

I miss accepting things that I did not say, and things that I did not feel.

I miss the guilt that would wash over me for doing things that I was allowed to do.

I miss hating myself over simple mistakes and everything that came with the burning house.

But the fresh air meant being aware.

It meant seeing it as what it really was- a burning house.

Not an air-conditioned perfect home..a self destructive burning house.

I owe her so much.

I owe her everything that I am.

For the sacrifices, the tears, the pain.. everything that I have brought upon her.

This is a formal apology, saying I see it..and I'm sorry for seeing it.

I wish I could take it all back, just to make you happy.

I am willing to take back everything that has built and broken me, to be who you expect me to be.

Does this make me a bad person?

Painting you in such a way; almost like it's not an apology.

But I mean it..I'm sorry mother, I'm very sorry.

Authors Note-
I genuinely hope everyone finds peace.