Thursday, August 20, 2015

the words she chooses

This place she is in is familiar. It is a dark place. There is no kindness.  In it,  she is bad.
she is…
selfish/delusional/self absorbed
childish/immature/a spoiled brat
broken/unlovable/deeply flawed
She knows these are old old echoes. But sometimes, when they’re all she can hear, she fears that they are old echoes of truth. She doesn’t hear them all the time. But when she is bad, when you are angry at her, she waits for you to turn to her, and say these things. She waits, trembling, to hear you say “what was I thinking? You sure fooled me. I thought you were worth my time, worthy of my love. You are...selfish..delusional…”
Sometimes, when she is bad, she punishes herself. She collapses inward and says all of the worst things. She tells you an edited truth, because it’s not bad enough that she says these things to herself. She is also ashamed of it. She is weak, you see. Sometimes she cannot stand up for herself against her mother's echoing in her head.
She has forgiven her mother. But she still does her abusing for her. She used to be able to stop her mother sometimes. When she would get started, and it would be bad, she could speak over her mother and take her voice and say all of the things. And then sometimes her mother would stop it. She would listen to her say all of her worst things and watch her prostrate herself under the unbearable weight of it all, and her mother would have pity on her.  Softening toward her and attempts to comfort her made her dizzy with rage. Her throat would constrict and her body would shake and one time she screamed at her mother. Only once, and it terrified them both. After that she would cut herself a little. To let the rage out, to bring numbness. And in between times she wouldn’t feel much. Depression was the safest place to wait in between.
But She has worked so hard to heal these parts of herself. And most of the time, she can say she is not bad.
She is…
self searching/self aware/healing
whole/well/lovable and loving
These are new words. And they must be shouted with intent to take up all of the space that the echoes filled. But more and more, these are the words she chooses to say to herself. Even when she is angry, and feels ashamed. Even when she is so afraid that you will see her struggling. She is always trying. Even on the days when she is too tired and she succumbs to the darkness. Especially then, she is trying her best to love herself.

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