The void

Chapter One

              I started writing a long time ago. For a while it was something I loved to do. I would write books based on the dreams that I could remember and even wrote them based on my daydreams from school. I remember sitting in the basement at my house in front of my desktop and staring at a blank screen watching the cursor blink. I remember all the ideas swirling around in my mind not one idea staying long before another took its place. Till an idea would stop and stay in my mind, it would then grow and become a story right then and there. The idea never stayed long but it was just long enough for me to be able to start my story. All my stories involved love and happiness where nothing bad ever happened and if it did it wouldn't last long. However, that's not exactly true. Life is full of pain, sadness, and loss and sometimes all that pain is enough to outweigh the good parts of life. It is easy to become lost in our emotions especially anger and sadness and once someone is lost it becomes harder and harder to find the light. At least, that is what happened to me.

All my life I have always had this white-hot anger in me always trying to break out. I was almost never at peace with the anger inside me. It was so strong and painful it affected everyone around me and even caused them pain, it got to the point where I was constantly by myself refusing to bring the anger around my family. That however was not easy. The anger will always be a part of me. It may be quiet now, but I remember it so clearly how angry I would get like it was simply yesterday rather than years ago. Along with the anger came a feeling in my chest and I remember that feeling I'd get when the anger would take control. It was a dangerous feeling it was pain and loss all put together and I know if I ever gave into the anger, I would become dangerous. I fought the anger but there were still times that I would fall into the anger and I would let it consume me till I didn't even recognize myself. After some time has passed, I tried so hard to fight it and eventually I learned to bury that anger in me so no one could ever see it but most importantly I refused to see it again. I refused to believe a part of me could be that dark and terrible. The anger in me affected a lot of my relationships most importantly my moms and mine. When I was younger my mom and I rarely got along. Most of the time we would be fighting back and forth in the kitchen while my father was in the basement and my sister was simply in the other room. Eventually we started to even fight in the car when my sister would be sitting in the back. I think in some ways the fighting really affected us both. For my mom I was a distant girl who rarely told her what was going on and when she would try, I would fight back and start a fight over her simply wanting to help me. However, for me it was more about protecting myself and never letting anyone come close enough to see the broken parts in my soul. Fighting was a way to keep everyone from getting to close. Fighting was my walls and the only way I knew how to keep the world at arm's length. For my mom and I the more we fought the worse my emotions would get. Soon into the fight and to the point where the fight was getting out of control, she'd send me to my room and from there I would be consumed by the anger till I was shaking so badly I could barely move. It scared me so badly that to try and bring me back to myself I would yell and throw things across my room. For a while that worked, I would drain the anger from my body till all that was left was the overpowering void of sadness. However, that didn't last long. The yelling and throwing things stopped helping me. Eventually I started to break things and attempt to hurt myself so the anger would leave or at least I'd be able to feel something other than anger even if it meant harming and putting myself through a lot of pain just to drain the anger again. Soon enough the pain wouldn't be enough, and I became numb emotionally and physically. Once I did become numb to myself and the world, I would sit in the corner staring at my room around me, yet I wouldn't feel a thing. Being numb at times was better than the anger at least for a while. Eventually the numbness became too much for me to deal with I couldn't handle it mentally anymore and I became emotionally exhausted. By the time I had started my first year of high school I was almost completely numb inside.