Damaged For Life

As though waking up early and driving around all day is not exhausting enough, I listened to a conversation that really crushed me. I lay down to take a break and get some time to myself amongst all the craziness. In-between scrolling through my phone, I could hear the loud voices of my gran with my aunts speaking to my sixteen year old cousin. Her previous workplace had a bad reputation and they were giving advice with the best intentions, I suppose. They were telling her to be careful and cautious with men. They told her not to even let anyone kiss her, because then they will think that they can take whatever they want. She emphasised that there was no one that she wanted to kiss and that she knows all these dangers, even telling my gran that you can get herpes from kissing which was amusing, yet showed her maturity. I think that she has a better knowledge than I ever could have. For all the sex education they give you, they never mention psychological consequences. No one had these conversations with me. STIs are easily treated. I am glad that they spoke to her, but a part of me wishes that I did not have to hear. They told her that if she was not careful, that if something was to happen against her will, she would be damaged for life.

This is what has been ringing in my head ever since. Those words. Damaged for life. I keep thinking, is that what I am? Is that why I am like this? Does everything always come back to that moment? The most painful moment of my entire existence. The one that I wish I could forget, but that I instead relive when I close my eyes and fail to find sleep. Am I damaged goods? I thought time was supposed to heal. I hear it though. I hear all the judgements and thoughts that people have. They are beginning to become a reality. I think that this is for life. I think that this is a curse.

I fight it. I fight it everyday. Every time I stand up to face a world that has been so cruel. Every time I walk back into a home that never gave me a love I deserved. Every time that I am blamed. That I am told it is my fault. That I bring it on myself. That I am attention seeking. I fight. I get back up and I try again. Even though I often fail, I am a human and I have accepted my existence. I am trying to make it into a life. I am trying to forgive. I am trying to end the suffering. I do not want to be those words. Damaged for life. I cannot do it. That is not who I am. I am ruined. It is all because of one person. One moment. One mistake. One kiss. I think I have paid for every sin at this point. I think that I am more than I have allowed myself to be. I hold myself back in fear. I am terrified. I cannot just put myself out there. I cannot be open. I cannot break down many of my barriers.

I know that I will never be the same person. I will never be as trusting. My entire mindset has shifted as it had every right to do. Other people really have the ability to interfere with your life. It remains yours though. Every time that you take it back, you get to decide. You get to choose. Choose to be strong. Choose to accept. Choose to forgive. Choose to pick yourself up every single time you hit bottom. Choose not to be damaged. Say to yourself I am not damaged for life. I refuse for that to be my story. I refuse to let the demons win. I choose life.

Just Names

So I just went through all my contacts and it was pretty shocking. I guess that I can be a hoarder in many aspects of my life. It seems that I like to see the best in people and I definitely give way too many chances. I went through name after name of people who I honestly believed would always be there for me. There was a time when I was so hopeful and so trusting that I relied on people. Now, people are just poison. As toxic as everything else in this world and cause just as much pain. I cannot trust people and I have no idea who is out there for me to rely on anymore. It is pretty true that everyone is wrapped up in their own lives. No one ever seems to have the time to notice you slipping away. It just happens so easily. I always tell myself that this is just life: getting rid of the old and making way for new things. Honestly, I am still waiting for the good things that I always hoped would come. I am still waiting for someone to care about me. How pathetic is that? To cry over all the people that I stupidly hoped would be more. I know that I was always asking for too much. Life has shown me that we cannot all have what we want.

Suicidal Thoughts

They always try to make out like it is this great thing when you have stopped trying to kill yourself. People say when was your last suicidal thought – a week ago, month ago – but all I think is everyday. Sure some days, it is not all that bad. If they really wanted to listen and know the truth, I would tell them even on good days, I think about killing myself. Yesterday, I stepped out into the road without even looking even though I was having a great day. Sometimes, I will light up a cigarette or starve myself. These may not look like suicide attempts to you. That is what it means though, to be suicidal. I cannot go a single day without hurting myself somehow. So although you think it might be great that I have not overdosed or slit my wrists or hung myself, you are seeing what you want to. I am not living as a person should. If you listened, you would know that I cannot escape it. You would know that I do not choose it. It is not this simple decision. It is this fight in which you either win or die trying.

Write

I guess it feels like I should write. I should really pour out everything that I have been thinking because I know I have not done that for a while. I remember how great I thought blogging was going to be for expressing myself and I remember how I fell in love with writing. Then, everything got really bad. The depression was pretty bad and the fallout from it even worse. I lost friends I thought I would have for a long time. I lost interest in my passion, studying, my degree and all forms of learning in the end. I could barely finish what I needed to do. What is worse is that I really began to hate myself more and more each day. Every time I was screwing up and not being the person that everyone expected me to be, the more depressed I became. Until I did not want to exist anymore. I suppose the good thing is that I am still existing. However, I am not really living. I have completely and totally forgotten how to do that. I have forgotten how to enjoy life. I struggle to do more than exist. I live in this world of terrorist attacks and fires and random people messing with your life for no apparent reason. I do not even know what there is to enjoy anymore. Right now, my existence hurts more than I care to admit. My existence really does not seem to mean much. In a world where my parents do not seem to care whether I am dead or alive and I cannot make a single decision about what to do with my life or where to go, it seems silly to still be here. I am here and I am hurting. I am hurting because at least when you are depressed you do not have to feel. So when everyone keeps telling me to fight it, the truth is, I would rather be completely emotionless. It does not exactly seem like there is a lot of good coming my way for me to enjoy. I cannot maintain friendships. The people I care about seem so far away. I cannot date or be honest or vulnerable with someone because I am just too damaged. I wonder if my family will ever give a damn. I wonder if my sister could love and care for someone she calls manipulative. I wish I knew where I belonged or what the right place for me was. I wish all the little things could sort of themselves out or that I would have some kind of support. Thing is, it is just me, in this alone and who knows how I do that. I certainly have no idea. So I guess I will continue to try, I will continue to work it out as I go along and this is my promise to myself to continue to write.

Being Suicidal

So many people thing that suicidal thoughts are just this simple thing you can overcome. They think that depression is a state of mind and you can just choose to be happy. Well, they are ignorant. It is not easy to be this way. It is a continuous battle. Unfortunately, there are only two options here – win or die trying. I am suicidal. I always think that maybe I am no longer suicidal as the days pass since the last suicide attempt and there are no plans for another in the near future. I wonder why I do it…do I want love? attention? is it to end the pain?

I can be happy for a while. I smile. I laugh. I talk to people. I go outside. It just suddenly goes away with no explanation and the thoughts are there. Actually, I think they are always there. I do not think they ever go away. I think that there are simply distractions so that you do not notice them. I live too dangerously to not be suicidal. Even in my happy moments, I am pushing limits. I think that is what being suicidal means. Taking too many risks knowing full well the dangers. Not living. I feel as though I am merely existing. It is a little tragic. It is all that I know now.

I hope to one day break the cycle. To be able to say that I will never go back to contemplating suicide, because I have so much to live for. Every time I say it now, I know that it is true, but it just will not sink in. I can never believe it. I tell myself that this is only temporary. One day, it will stick and I will be so glad that I held on. If I die though, I do not think it is some kind of crime. I can honestly say that I do not know whether it takes more strength to die or to hold on. Either way, I am trying to be strong. I will see where that lead me.

Family

I want a family:

A mother and father

Who care about me.

People who truly

Have my best interests

In their hearts.

Parents who do not

Push for the best grades

Or that I break world

Records, but ask

‘What do you want from

Your life?’ because the

Answers are fairly

Simple. I want love.

I want a family,

Honesty, respect,

People who listen to

One another and work

Together to achieve the

Best for each other.

I want it, crave it,

No matter how broken

Or dysfunctional,

I want it to work.

Coward

I am a coward. I am scared of the truth. I am scared to write because the truth comes out. I am scared to die, because I do not want to forget to say goodbye to someone and destroy the rest of their life. I do not want to be selfish. I want to be strong enough to live, but whenever I gain strength, I always end up thinking that this time: I will be strong enough to die. This limbo of not knowing what takes more courage is painful. I want the pain to end. I try. I fight. I am strong. Why did no one tell me how to do it? Why did no one teach me? I feel so unequipped for this life.

I become so haunted all the time. Mistakes, regrets, what ifs….why do we do it to ourselves? Why can I not stop seeing the faces, the moments that cause nothing but pain? Why does it still hurt? Why do I want to stop so badly that I really would give up? What is this pathetic existence? It is not a life. I can tell you that. I am not living anymore. I am merely existing. I want to scream so loud for someone to come and save me, but no one is coming. I know that I am the only one to save myself. If I was not such a coward, maybe I could do it.

This pain is completely horrendous. Fighting everyday is exhausting. Faking that smile and pretending that you just got a bad night’s sleep when in reality you spent the night reliving every hurt over and over until you truly wished you ceased to existence. Then having to fight that feeling, whilst staring at yourself wondering how you got here, wondering how it all went so wrong. That is where I struggle. I tell myself, hold on for them. For the ones it will hurt, because no one should have this pain. Why can I not hold on for me? Why have I become so worthless, so unimportant, so meaningless that I feel I have nothing left but other people? How did this happen? I need to undo it….but where do I start?

Someone

This is for someone who

Silently saves my life,

On an almost daily basis.

Someone who has no idea

What they are doing

By simply allowing me

To speak freely, selfishly.

Someone who I would be

Lost without, because

My mind would be filled

Constantly with no one

To turn to and I know

That would eventually

Eat me up entirely.

Someone who is there

With the right response

When I never expected

To speak to anyone.

Someone who surprises

Me, because it is not

Words that save but

Always acts of kindness.

So whilst I may be a

Nightmare to deal with,

Someone, you should

Know it goes noticed.

It is so noticed in fact

That I am living,

Breathing and even

Smiling right now.

Sometimes, it just

Takes someone to

Be able to bring you

Back from the darkest

Moments and when

That someone is

Always there, what

Do you even say…

Thank you seems

Too small to express

This level of gratitude.

Goodbye Mother

So…I did something dumb. I am just a human. Trying the best I can, you know. I woke up and it was dark. It was so insanely dark. I was searching for reasons, searching in the dark. Like a small child, curled up and scared, I only thought of one thing. I thought of my mother. When I called she said she could not speak, she was in a meeting, but would called back. Then she called to ask why I was upset and I said it was not something that I could put into a sentence so she would call after her meeting. We spoke and I wanted to tell her about me. About how I was in a lot of pain and no longer wanted to live.

She let me know that she was pleased that I was going to do a masters as my sister had informed her yesterday. I explained that I had failed a component of my course and I am in no state to do my exam tomorrow so I will be graduating later. This set her off. She asked why it was the first she was hearing of it and I explained that an F is not something you openly come to a parent with for fear of disappointment. However she decided that I had said that it was all her fault, that I was coming to a conclusion that my mental state right now is because of an F grade that I could not tell her about. I did not tell anyone, because I thought I had it handled. I retook and retook, thinking that all would be alright in the end, if I could just improve the grade. It did not improve now and I am at the end. Running out of time. So I tried to explain to you calmly that I would not graduate until September.

You are irritated. You begin to say how I am weak. I crumble too easily. I want to tell you that I am hurting. So so much and not because of an F, but because I have been through hell and survived it. I was never going to escape without getting burnt. So when you tell me that I crumble too easily and you have experienced more trauma than I will know in my life…explain what you mean. You have only expressed your struggle in moving country and being a single parent. I understand that this world has hurt you. I understand that you have your own problems. Domestic violence is unfair. So is rape. So is child abuse. So is bullying and manipulation. Stop victim blaming. These things crush your soul more than any man could ever break my heart.

So now that I have been crushed to the point where nothing is left and yet somehow I am still fighting, you tell me I crumble too easily. She would not listen. She would not stop the sound of her own voice to take in what I was saying. She never has. And I asked until the point where I was begging. Please listen to me. Stop talking. Talking means that you are not listening. To her, these words are disrespectful. So she said same old with you. Always the same. Always attention seeking. Well you know what, grow up. You are 21 now. You are supposed to be an adult. So get over it. I did not realise adults could not suffer…tell me the secret to suddenly surviving and getting over it. I still cannot let people near me. I am still suffering. The years go by and I am struggling to figure out what is going on with me.

Really, you are the one who is attention seeking, again. Then you wonder why I do not come to you. When I need help, I have to reassure you. You tell me you do not care what I do with my life, figure it out on my own, you are done. You tell me that I do not value you as a mother. If we go back to why I called…I hit rock bottom. I was in crisis and I needed some level of appreciation from you. I needed to feel like I was not a burden, a disappointment or someone who does not deserve to exist. You did not help though. Once again, I felt worthless and here I was giving you value. You think that is what children are for but you are so wrong. You could not even reassure me about a bad grade, let alone about ending my life.

Rupi was right. We really do need to stop looking for healing at the feet of those who broke us. So I am done. Completely done. I tried and now I am done trying. Other people hear me when you will not, so I will not look to you. You gave me every reason to cut you out. You gave me exactly what I was looking for. What I expected. You may be my mother and you will never know how much I love you or how grateful I really am, because you simply do not listen. I do not measure up on your materialistic scale. This time, you were right. We should not talk. So goodbye mother, I am done with you.

Stay Away

Stay out of the way of

My anger and destruction.

Trust me on this one.

More than anything,

I need to save you.

You need to be kept away

From me – I am dangerous.

I fear myself, more

Than anything else out there.

I cannot control myself

Which leaves you in danger,

So get out the way and

Stay out of the way.

Get as far as you can away

Whilst you still can.

It has to be this way.

I only cause pain.

Please, just stay away.