The same old same old

In bed, I sleep in.

I am not tired, but I want to pretend that my life hasn’t started yet.

I am cognizant of my surroundings.

I am aware of the day starting, without me, for those last few minutes. It feels better to be lost in time, in a hazy half asleep dream.

Hearing the words of my partner in my head.

“You’re worthless and you will never accomplish anything of value! I’m the only one doing anything important. I make all the money. You don’t do anything for this family. And, I don’t love you, I never did.”

I have a strong confidence inside of me, but I can’t help but realize it’s right.

Same old, same old, I tell myself.

“I’ll find someone better. Someone that is sexier, smarter, better, prettier.”

Just days ago, we kissed and embraced and we were “happy”.

But you say you fake it so we don’t argue.

None of what you say to me is real.

Well, everything I say to you is real.

I stay in bed, but that’s not why you call me,

Whore, bitch, cunt, stupid, worthless, loser, dumbass, ugly.

And I’m lazy too.

“Get up and clean this house up!”

I have horrible pain in my head, and tell you so.

“I don’t give a fuck! Get up and get going! I’m not dealing with your bullshit today.”

Same old, same old, I tell myself.

I tell everyone I’m lonely, but I actually love when I get to be alone. I can relax and be myself and no one judges me.

It’s not because I don’t have people around me. It’s because the people I do have around me make me feel like I’m the most worthless piece of trash.

Same old, same old.

I’m not a perfect person or even great, and I don’t want any sympathy, but that is why I don’t tell anyone.

I just don’t want to be beaten down anymore. Physically, emotionally—to have your inner self come out and be told it’s stupid and not enough and you’re not good.

I tell everyone that deals with this to leave, because I don’t want them to deal with it either.

I did try to leave, but failed, and now I’m mocked by my attempts to get help, because no one will help me. It might also be that I don’t tell anyone what’s really going on.

“Not even your family will help you, because no one wants to deal with your stupid ass!”

I have to help myself. No more fuzzy last minute dreams, lying around, waiting for it to be better.

No more same old, same old.

***

A fictional poem for people in abusive relationships. Not my life.

I hope that anyone in this kind of relationship gets out, and stays away. No one deserves that abuse, ever. I drew this out from my friends that were in similar situations.

Thank you for reading.