This is my truth

The beat down

The beat down came slowly over time.
Each trauma no matter how mild or severe was still only 1 trauma.
And they usually came 1 at a time.
Each one was a hammer blow in the beat down.
Standing in line at the teachers desk, waiting to have my paper graded...
Praying so hard that I had earned 100% and a sticker!
Imaging what sticker I would pick as I patiently waited, watching classmates in front of me choose theirs!
More often than not there was no sticker for me 🤷‍♀️
Each time I didn't get a sticker felt like a hammer blow in the beat down!
I rushed through my work so quickly that I got things wrong that I should have gotten right!
I really wanted 100%'s and stickers 💔
I really tried.
But my inside were so shaky and full of turmoil that I couldn't focus on school and homework was a major problem.
Getting my homework home, getting it done and then returning it was a great problem!
I tried but failed.
And,
I was blamed.
I was belittled.
I was told that I wasn't trying!
I did try.
I needed help and I needed support.
But I got neither.
I got sent to the back of the room.
Or the coat room.
Or the hall.
Or the principals office.
I should have been sent straight to a pair of loving arms belonging to someone who cared that on the inside of me I was broken into in many, many pieces.
Someone should have helped me.
Someone should have seen that I needed it so bad!
Someone should have just said "I care that you're struggling, I'm here for you"!
But no one said anything!
My heart broke each time I didn't get a sticker.
Each time I didn't get 100%
I believed it was my fault because I was stupid just like my stepdad said!
It wasn't because I was stupid though!
It was because my mind was too busy and distracted going over and over and over all of the bad things that I had been through.
My mind was too occupied by fear of what my Mom's mood would be like when I got home from school.
I was too busy worrying that my parents would be fighting 😒
I was too busy remembering the cockroach that scared me that morning or the boy who called me ugly!
Maybe I was too busy remembering the last slap delivered to me cheek...
Do you get what I'm saying?
I did not receive help or support.
No one ever asked if I was ok.
No one even seemed to notice most of the time.
I always wanted to do well!
I wished to be the teachers pet ♥️
I wished to be someone who got called on often!
I wished to be anyone but myself.
When I was at school!
When I was outside playing I loved being me and I loved my neighborhood!
I even loved my school when no one else was there with me!
The school playground never let me down!
It felt like an old friend!
Every rung on the monkey bars felt like it belonged in my palms because it fit so perfectly!
The playground felt like home to me.
I went there whenever I felt down.
The beat down came on slowly over time.
But the school playground was always there for me 🥰
Accepting me in my wildest form!
The school playground embraced me and set me free to be a wild tomboy!
Climbing and jumping and swinging and challenging myself fearlessly!
When I was on the school playground, stickers didn't matter to me.
And the beat down was nothing but memories.
Inside of my school, I had nothing.
The playground taught me everything.