Within Eternal Flames
  • Reads 1,107
  • Votes 58
  • Parts 33
  • Time 55m
  • Reads 1,107
  • Votes 58
  • Parts 33
  • Time 55m
Ongoing, First published Aug 08, 2017
Mature
A time before you

I barely made it through

Though when I did I sacrificed so much that I believed I was a new

Reality was,
 I was dangerously confused.

I had forgotten who I was and did whatever I could to find out who the girl was that stood in the mirror..
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This is my truth by KristinaFigolah
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My life has been an intense journey from a little girl who was beaten down and abused into believing that she was worthless, to a woman at 43 years of age who is still desperately searching for who she truly is. I found her though. I did. And she writes like me, from inside of me. She is me. This girl that I've been in love with since time first existed, is indeed me. The way that she walks. With her hands... and how she talks? The hearts that she's captured, the souls that she has inspired. I'm now trying to be her. I've never felt that I was good enough to actually be myself!!! I always knew how pure and clear and free I was inside. But people told me otherwise, in a very cruel way. No one ever spared my feelings or thought to speak to me with kindness or love. My parents were very serious and strict people. They believed that there was only 1 way to act and inside I knew that I did NOT fit in the parameters of the behavior expected of me. And every single time I made my Step Daddy sigh or frown it felt like I knife in my heart. I was a let down. Always too loud. Always moving too much. Always too fat and always too ugly. Always too much. Unless I sat quietly. But I've always been a firecracker and all of that containment really made me want to blow off! All of what was inside of me, swirling and dividing in me. Burying the side of me that I loved the most! I was a bastard and a blasphemy. Harsh words for a girl of 3. They said them when they baptized me.
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I had a dream. It was not some ambition, nor a lofty goal that I wanted to pursue. But a true dream. Nearly a nightmare, really. But it was fascinating to me. Over a year later, it sits in my heart as heavy today as it was then. The tones of the dream and its themes, for want of a better word, were weighty, intense, and disturbing. A dream that explored themes of death, loss, shame, self-destruction, depression, and the struggles of the human condition. I'm not a writer, even casually, though I've long been a lover of books. This is my first, and likely only, attempt at writing, an attempt to put to words the contents of that dream that left such a mark on me. This is my dream. It is not perfectly relayed, for that would be a poor payment to anyone who takes the time to read this. Rather, it is the bones of my dream given flesh, clothed in my own experiences and traumas of the human experience. I hope that you, dear reader, find it as compelling as I did when I first dreamt it.