The Marrero Chronicles

11.06.20

It's been a few days. So much has happened.
I've come to the conclusion that I will always struggle with knowing who I am and what I am meant to do.

Me and my fiancée could have broken up last night. I'm grateful that we were able to work through our issues. Unfortunately one of our biggest issues is him wanting me to move into his home. He lives with his uncle and he's down the street about three houses away from his grandmother and his father. Me being me...hasn't handled that well.

Perhaps it's because growing up around my blood relatives gave me so much anxiety. I never knew who could have been lying to me or who was genuinely concerned about my wellbeing. Even if I knew who I could trust with my life, so many secrets were kept throughout my childhood that I still am yet to uncover. The second I tried to trust someone became the second I grew vulnerable. Nine out of ten I would end up regretting it and getting hurt. Here it is. Fear controlling my behavior once again. I just can't help it.

Opening up to strangers is too hard for me, and I've already been judged by the basic things I tell everyone about myself. Apparently I'm too damaged to be good enough for my partner. What I write about is disgraceful. I've drifted away wrongfully from God and I'll end up being torched in Hell. I cannot be with my fiancée and share a partner with him because it's untraditional and loving the same sex is wrong. You can't love two people at the same time. I'm overly dramatic about my trauma and the purpose of getting married is to provide my partner with food, chores, sex, and offspring. That's it. That's all I'm good for if I'm even remotely good enough to honorably become his wife in the future. I've been hearing it all.

And I hear you!

However what these people fail to understand is that I've been abused, blackmailed, raped, assaulted, lied to, cheated on, belittled and broken down to nothing in only my past relationships. I'm not even bringing up the shit my family put me through. Apparently people are just supposed to get over it? If that's even possible, don't you think I would have figured it out by now?

I spent an entire evening hating myself and breaking down in tears hearing about how much of an amazing fiancée I am and not believing a word of it because that's what happens to you when you've been wronged your entire existence. I don't even know what I'm meant to do with my life. I swore to my fiancée that I would attend college and my mental health plummeted through the floor and my mother cut me off. I can't stay, but am I attending classes? No. Why? Because there is no point! My own professors don't even seem to care and they've heard why I can't finish out the year.

"Sorry to see you go, but have a nice life darling."

That's what I got. I unpack my dorm in a week or so and if I'm being truly honest I don't know if I have an intention on going back or not. I wanted to, but now I'm faced with the realization that I overall suck as a human being. People say I'm an amazing writer and to go to school for it...but I HATE English. I fucking hate it. It's boring and annoying. I want to read and write on my own time and I don't need anyone's shit about what and why.

I feel like I'm not good at anything. And being surrounded by my fiancées rich, successful, and happy relatives makes me feel like I am a waste of a human being. I never know what to say. I wish I could make myself into a stable healthy human mold. I don't even know what to say right now. I've been thinking for about twenty minutes or so about what it is I really feel.

I just want some sense of clarity. I want to understand what I was born for, you know? I KNOW someone can relate to that. Was I meant to be this broken for something...bigger? Will I end up being a world renowned motivational speaker? Or will all of this be a supplement of dark chapters that I tell after my good life hits? The truth is, I may never know. Sometimes I don't even know if I have the strength to get out bed in the morning and here I am wondering if one day I'll move mountains. I once cried in the arms of my significant other that I felt like I was on a downspiral on the way to a suicidal relapse. He attempted to aid me in reassurance but it didn't really work. A part of me thinks I will die at twenty three jumping off of a roof intoxicated and depressed. I like to think I'm more than just a suicidal statistic on graph. I have hope that I'm worth more than that, but I have a brain that keeps me sad...and it hurts me.

Everything hurts me. All the time. Including my happiness! Christ why does my own contentment bother me? Any time something good happens I'm jumping for joy and then I sit down and I begin to think "damn, I was able to do this despite of everything horrible I've been through. Maybe I'm not such a fuck up after all.." My face does this weird thing where it presents a bittersweet smile and it is in that exact moment where I think about all of the horrible things that lead to this really good thing, and I break down. I don't know how many times I've shouted at myself in the mirror desperately grasping for a small sense of normalcy.

"Stop hurting me!! Let me be HAPPY!!" I didn't care who heard me. It's a constant war hidden inside me and in brief moments I need to expel it.

Everyone wants to heal. ❤️