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Category: Life

The truth..

I don't think I've ever truly felt like I belong here. 

It's hard to explain. But from the moment I "gained awareness" around age 8, I found myself confused with my surroundings. Like I had just been tossed into this body and given no directions on how to...exist.

I'm not claiming to be anything. I feel like I had endured some absolutely heart wrenching trauma, to the point where I just blacked out most of my childhood.

From what my sister told me, I did not have it easy.

The bits I can recall, I feel upset and angry that someone decided to put a child through that.

I want to scream out. To rage. Break things and let the world know just how much it affected me.

Those are years that I will never get back. I never got to have a "real" childhood. I had been thrown into a war I should have never experienced. Every moment was spent on guard, trying to continue living as the people that raised me took their own issues out on me.

I won't say that I was a "well behaved" child. Considering who raised me, I tried everything to not become like them. I fought hard.

But every time I look in the mirror, I hear my Mother's hateful words whispering through my mind. How she could caress my hair, and touch the freckles on my face.

So many moments were spent nestled beside her in bed, as she cradled me. But it didn't feel like it should have. I felt more like an object to her. A toy to be taken out off of the shelf and adored for a short time and then put back. Ignored until I was worth her time.

I begged for attention from someone that didn't really care about me.

She pretended to care about me. But I was nothing more than a paycheck to her. The child support my Dad payed.

I just wanted to live like the other kids.

My life has been spent in a room, screaming silently as the world around me continues to spin.

Now, I'm 31 and I don't know how to function.

My emotions are locked away. I struggle to feel anything. But it's all behind a wall.

I close my eyes during rain storms. Letting the frustration wash away from my heart. The weight to lift off my shoulders, and when I'm alone I cry.

Whispering; "Why not me? Why not me..?"

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