Life starts during a time of pain. We are born through a process of pain. Pain can define how you live your life, how you view yourself and the world. Pain doesn’t seem to go away, as if it is embedded and ingrained from the start. When we fall down, we cry and moan about the pain we felt. A band aid used to fix the pain we could see.
What happens when you suffer a pain that no one can see? How do we heal that pain, how can you put a band aid on something within?
The answer is you can’t.
You can walk through life, looking for things to heal that pain. Sometimes it’s found within another, other times it’s in things that cause more pain. Pain makes us do things we wouldn’t otherwise do.
She would do anything to get rid of this pain, but it clung onto her no matter what she did.
Pain made her want to be loved, seen, heard, and admired.
Glancing at boys to see if they saw her as beautiful or breathtaking.
Looking for love and desire in the lowliest of places, dirty classrooms, drunken house parties, and small dingy cars.
Could she feel any emptier?
Could she ever feel anything other than hatred towards herself, jealousy towards her friends, or desperation towards her pursuers?
Filling her emptiness with anything to patch the hole that was placed in her soul at a time before she could remember.
Could she ever look at herself and see anything other than damaged goods?
Seeking a relief from the daily torture of her thoughts and life.
From the torture of watching her mother wither away from a steady stream of painkillers and anti-depressants.
The only person she ever loved in her life resembled the broken shell that was created from years of mental, physical, and emotional abuse.
The hatred for her father kept her with a steady stream of sadness and confliction. Would she ever look at her father without wanting to kill him herself?
Before she found the truth hidden under a sea of lies, she loved her father with a blind heart.
The true sadness of the matter is that she could never stop feeling the love or need for his acceptance and approval.
Bringing the bile from her stomach to her mouth as she looked him in the eyes.
Could he have ever been a good father?
Her poor mother who suffered countless years just to save her children from ever knowing anything other than love and dedication.
The image of a happy family was tainted the minute his mask faltered.
He was exposed for the real monster he was.
She always knew it deep down, having never known consciously how terrible he could be.
The deep down where she knew she was a product of a violent relationship that should have been destroyed.
At times she wished she could go back in time to save her mother from the crippling pain of being with a monster.
She should have never been born.
Plagued with early experiences, she was scarred, cursed from ever being normal. Having the urge to cut from her palm to her inner elbow, she knew something dark lived inside her.
Could she ever feel happy?
Wanting to scream in terror every moment she was awake, from the sheer panic she felt from being alive. She sliced her arms, legs, fingers, would she ever feel the pain?
Addicted to the opportunity of death and troubled by the sadness it would cause her mother and sister.
Watching the blood ripple out as the air hit her legs, she felt relief. Something of an expressive hobby, she began marking her body, and hiding the evidence.
Could she hide the darkness inside her?
Could anyone ever love her knowing she was a monster like her father?