Monster

I always thought that staying away from everybody will keep them safe. I never disliked being alone. I felt guilty for a lot of things, like hate or anger towards others. I felt unworthy before. For many years.

Everyone that comes in contact with me makes me feel more and more guilty, I just can’t understand what is that I am doing so wrong.

I always knew I am better off alone. But even that seems to annoy people.

I felt guilt for letting him die and I felt guilt for allowing myself to be happy even for a small second to be happy that he was gone. I often wonder if I ever loved him, because all I could feel when he was here was pain, suffering and numbness along with fear. I punished myself for feeling things I thought were not normal, hating a part of you. To me he was never really a real person I could touch or talk about and I also blamed myself I should’ve maybe speak up more when he was here. I allowed him to be the reason my life was going to be on hold. But when he was gone for a moment I thought it was going to be better… did it get better? No. it only went downhill. I can’t feel, there was a time I couldn’t even cry. For a whole full year I had no feelings. I couldn’t smile or cry. I was a shadow of myself.

I feel a lot of pain when I even attempt to think about it and as much as I like to think I have very high emotional intelligence, the part of it I lack was always self-regulation. I can’t let people get close to me or love me because I know I will eventually lose myself and I will hurt them so I stay away, I run and I hide from my own person.

Me, the person I hated only to not hate others. I love myself in so many aspects but at the same time everything I love I pushed away from me. Punishing myself maybe? I am unsure. I just lose my voice the more I try to shout at the wind.

To truly describe how I see myself? I am not ugly, rather average. Tired eyes that often tend to close to not see how people treat me. Not very tall… but when I look in the mirror I feel like the person looking back isn’t even me. I allowed my own guilt to poison me so much I lost my vision. I smile so people won’t ask me how I am. I lie to everyone that I am good.

I am not good.

I hate feeling pressured to get out of all of this…and I get so overwhelmed that that’s another thing that I hate. If I knew how I would’ve but I don’t know.

I used to run to feel the land under my feet disappear and collapse…because when it did I could fly. With time I got more and more depressed and anxious. I used to love flowers and the clouds, I loved music and cats. I used to love the sound of my own laugh and hear my heart beat and I used to believe I was so beautiful. I loved singing and I loved playing instruments, I also loved to dance. I loved writing. Then everything disappeared like a dream.

I was left alone in a room with no windows, dark and cold. Hugging my knees the only thing that I felt could make me stay alive was to leave marks on my skin. At least I knew…I could still feel. I wasn’t dead it wasn’t over. The idea of death always scared me. I don’t have many fears.

I am afraid of being forgotten, hurting people and of dying. I thought I was strong but looking back I was just trying to keep everyone believe I was fine while I was breaking every night.

When I would turn off the lights and I would be back alone with myself I would hear nothing but my own hate devouring me, slowly, looking me in the eyes with hunger. It wasn’t going to kill me…I wasn’t worth an easy end. It dragged me through my own blood and tossed me onto the floor. It cut me open and poured gasoline all over me. Light the lighter…but refused to end it. Almost like I wasn’t even worth a spark. It would look me in the eyes, smile and remind me how worthless I was for being just myself.

I ran away from everyone but truly the only person I wanted to run away from was myself. But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t run from myself.

I was wounded and shaking, reminding myself I am still here. It told me food wasn’t for me. It made me starve myself and feel like if maybe I would be thinner I would be better. It made me work myself till I couldn’t feel my body. The more I worked the more I could stay out of that dark room. Because the moment I was alone with myself I knew I would be back into my chains, where I was made to believe I belong.

I lie, I hide things from people because I dislike pity. Nobody truly knows how I get chained every night before sleep. How I walk on my own and grip onto myself out of fear I will lose the last breathe and it will be over. Because I am scared to die but living like this didn’t make me stronger. I used to hope I will stand on the ledge and have the courage to fly. But my wings have been long broken and my faith has been long destroyed.

I look at myself and I put the mask on to go outside, because it doesn’t allow me…to show. To feel.

It…the monster I allowed to exist within the walls I’ve built. I sigh at the thought it will ever get better. Because I can’t promise myself that it will. The rage I feel as time passes is suffocating me, I want to break the chains I want to spread my wings and fly. I want to feel the ground give up and realise I am still there. But every time I try the chains get tighter and tighter. I can hear my own voice breaking as I speak to myself. I see my hands shaking, I feel my legs weak. I wonder if I am awake or asleep. Its cold.

It is always cold, I used to love cold, but this does not feel like frost. Like soft snow in a spring day. No, this…feels like a suffocating January day. On a frozen lake, the more I move the more the ice breaks and I get deeper into the pain I tried to conceal.

The monster. You can’t keep this monster in chains. I wondered often if since it is the monster made for me… I can kill it?

How….can I destroy the thing that tries to destroy me? Breathe …1…2…3….

Realising it chained me with my own will so I can’t grasp it, silenced me so I can’t scream, took me away from everybody so I can’t be saved, yet I still feel…

Because the truth is the tighter I get chained the more I feel I want to get out of it. I want to break free and fly… but how.