Trigger warning.
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I felt him again. His calloused hands and worn skin. He was breathing his liquor into my face and his disgusting laugh was ringing in my ears. His grime trailed along my body and I attempted time and time again to wrench my self free from his grip. I had no control.
And he wasn't even actually there. I was out of breath and sobbing to a ghost. But I felt Him. I felt him because he is etched deeply into the crevices of my brain. He is there to remind me of how I was used as nothing more than a doll. I didn't even resemble porcelain and yet he broke me.
Hi, i'm ridiculously strong, but even the strongest things can be chipped away. I had a moment of immense stress and my bones began to crack under the pressure. The wind was knocked out of me and I laid there gasping on the floor like a damn fish. The feeling is so much that I want to tear through my skin.
What's it like to be able to express yourself properly? What's it like to feel love and affection for someone without having to constantly push them away for fear that they'll see just how you think? "Are you homicidal?" No. Of course i'm not. Why would I be? Is it because of the immense anger I hold towards the man who took my childhood? Is it not right to be angry? I want to be naive. I want to be able to discover things all on my own. I want to have control. For fucks sake, I just want to be able to think properly. I want to give someone my absolute all and be able to feel safe with them. But I hate relationships because I can't seem to get them right. Who's to blame? I want to say myself, but I know a jackass who really sped up my downward spiral.
I joke about myself. I try to crack jokes. But the underlying truth is that they're true and it sucks. I'd rather be mad, laughing, or both as to feeling like worthless, lonely, trash. I hate the word "lonely" because that implies that I rely on someone, but it confuses me because I want to be alone and strong, but I also need someone to remind me. Validation, I search for validation even though I know a bit about self worth. It like the halves of my brain are fighting about whether i'm going to be strong or i'm going to be pathetic. All of this is ridiculous, I should get over myself. That's the strong half speaking, but the pathetic half is sobbing behind the screen. I'm tired of feeling this way.
YOU ARE READING
Psych.
ПриключенияThe brain on a platter. A novel based on the various thoughts that go through my head. It is fiction and non-fiction at the same time.