Here it is. I’m taking responsibility for being a doormat at my very own Victims – R – Us store. I sit here taking up space. I do not speak up to most people when they treat me poorly in one way or another. I do not have faith in myself. I do not trust myself. I do not love myself. I could blame my pitiful submissiveness on how I was raised, but I will not. I mean, I was abused in every form when I was growing up. I did not allow it then, but I do now. Why?! That’s a good question right? It is what I know. It is my comfort zone. Sometimes I can feel a pair begin to grow, and then they shrivel up and fall off. I do not stand up to those who “love” me. I do not stand up to those who do not love me. I talk a big game, but that is about all there is right now. I do not blame anyone else for treating me poorly because I do allow it. It sickens me. It causes a roller coaster of feelings in my stomach, my head, and my heart. I taste the bitterness of “Just let people say or do whatever, and then it will be ok”. I feel like that roller coaster is stuck upside down on one of the loops. I am being held in by support, but I am afraid of what will happen to me when that support gets too tried and worn. I feel very much like the imposition, the burden if you will, in everyone’s life. I hear the words that I am loved, but if actions are not seen, are those words real? Where and when do I draw the line in the sand? What do I want? I know, on paper, how to not allow myself to be a victim any longer. I know how to tell others about not being victims any longer. I would like to say it is different for me, but there are those who disagree. Loudly.
I fantasize about cold, shiny, and sharp objects slicing my skin like a hot knife through butter. I fantasize about the life inside oozing out of me one drop at a time. I am a hoarder of sorts. I hoard all the negativity, the piles of others’ shit that they throw at me, and I take it and make neat new piles in case I ever get a glimpse of light. You know how there are some kids who will do anything to get attention whether it be good or bad? I believe I will do anything to get love whether it is real or not. Tomorrow I may read this and wonder what in God’s good name was I thinking writing this stuff. If I do not get it out, it will eat away at me like acid disintegrating skin and flesh. My heart has had enough. The real conundrum rests in the question, “What am I willing to do about it?”. I am used to doing nothing. I want to not feel this bad anymore. It is comfortable just accepting what people will give me. It is scary to stand up for myself and the young one that was so tortured many years ago. I have work to do; however, do I have the guts? To be continued….