Shattered

 
Shattered
Im am going to let you in on a secret. One that I am not proud of.
One that has changed my life forever. I've never felt wanted by anybody. I have always felt rejected. My mom favored her husband over her chidren. You know secrets aren't for everyone. But everyone has them, some dark, some light, some in between. Some you can't keep, some you can. It's just life. That's the odd thing about life. I used to think life was simple, and easy. But that was before my life became my own secret, that I couldn't tell. I don't know how it started really, or even why. But I now know it never will be simple, and never easy.
I remember that night clearly as if it happened five minutes ago. It was the first time I ever felt really dead inside. Truly afraid. I was young, eleven, He was forty-five.
He pushed me against the wall and held me down, my mom watched me scream in pain, and as I called her name and screamed for help, she did nothing, just left. Left me there to hurt, and cry, and scream. Left me there with him, "The Monster".
I was beyond afraid, I was so terrified that my scream was but a whisper. Why me? Huh? Why? I have no idea...He makes me wanna scream and cry..and uggghhhh....He was supposed to be a dad to me. Even if he was just my Mom's Husband. He chose to take that role of a dad the moment he said to her,"I do!"
I mean I had known him almost my whole life, I shouldv'e stopped it. Fought back harder, But I couldn't. I was too frightened, confused, and defenseless.
He did so many terrible things to me after that, I tried to run away, But every time I did, the cops would just bring me back, I felt guilty, trapped, Because I was trapped, I was in a dark hole, with no way out.
It was hard to get away from my inner demons. I hate him for what he did, He stole every bit of innocence and sanity that I have. Shattering the little girl I was. Little did he know, he turned me into a broken, helpless, depressed, suicidal teenager.
I have become something I was never meant to be. A broken, shattered girl. Incapable of trust, and hard to love. My inner demons are with me everywhere. Tempting me where I go. Everwhere I go, I see his face, feel his weight, smell his cologne, it drives me insane. I am so alone in this world, I know I am loved by many, but It doesn't seem that way.
No matter where i am, I can't seem to get away from "the one who forced himself upon me." I feel guilty, hopeless, helpless, defenseless. Like I have no belonging anymore. I feel like a motherless child, because I am a motherless child. It still haunts me quite often, even when I smile, no one knows the mysteries of who I really am, the girl I once was is now gone, and I am somebody new. I suppose its for the better, but I miss the old me, the Happy, Out-going, positive, caring, loving, gentle me. Maybe one day I can get there again. I thought that if I could just make it stop, make the pain go away, that I can escape that reality and, my life might be okay, might actually have meaning. But I couldn't, so it never was okay. I am not okay, no matter how much I try to deny it, I am broken. It has only gotten worse. I have become more isolated, I don't like to be, But I know nothing else. I am never going to be the same.
The memory of what he did still haunts me in the night. I don't want to sleep, I hate to eat, sometimes, not all the time, I feel so dead inside, I don't want to die, just feel.
I began to notice things about myself, I didn't have many friends, I didn't have expensive things, my body wasn't-isn't perfect. My face wasn't so pretty. I felt-feel ugly inside and out. I am-was different from other girls. Very different. Sometimes that is okay, other times, I just want to be liked. I just want to belong. I don't fit in anywhere, I feel like I don't belong. I try to ignore it. But sometimes, people get to me. You know I used to be bullied A lot. Girls talked. They would say things, mean things. I was taught to be strong, and not cry. But you want the truth, I was crying inside, and bottling it up.
One night there was a box cutter next to me, I didn't think about how it would affect me, I just grab it and started to cut my wrists. The blood trickling down my arm. I saw it, so I knew I was alive. It was surreal. The way the pain gave me this euphoria, sense of control, and oddly security. It calmed me down. It was like a drug. Yes, it did hurt, but the pain was a reminder to me that I exist, that I was a human being. It hurt,but felt amazing at the same time. The stinging on my skin, the scars, the cuts,they match my inward emotions to the outside, they are the only reminder that I am real, that my life is real, that my emotions are real. I never thought it was so easy to feel so good, and bad at the same time. I felt invincible. My heart pounding,blood running, it was like the pain left me...and went to my skin...I didn't have to focus on my emotional pain for once in my life. I then saw what I did, I swore to myself ,"NEVER AGAIN!" But as junior high went by, and on into High school things got harder, Life got harder, Girls got meaner, Life got tougher, I got more depressed.
Still being abused, neglected, feeling abandoned, bullied, hated, I couldn't take it anymore. It go to be too much to handle. So I cut again. People talked.
"She's ugly!"
"She's weird!"
"She's dumb!"
"She's not worth anything!"
"She's too skinny!"
"She's not skinny enough!"
"She's too fat to be loved!"
"No wonder her mom hates her, look at her!"
 
Of course it hurt A lot. Self injury became my regular source of euphoria. It was my drug, my personal addiction. Then the last time my stepdad ever hurt me, he made my little sister watch, he told me, "If you say anything, I'll fuck her too!" And you'll regret it. He put his hands over my mouth and kept me from screaming. This time, after three years of this, I grew tired. I couldn't fight no more, I had no fight left.
I started writing down everything in a journal, trying to find other ways to express my thoughts, than on my skin, It was summer, and I was upset, I couldn't wear a bathing suit like other girls, So I had to stop self harming. Well I left my journal on the floor in the class room. My name was on the inside. Someone turned it into the office. My counsleor Mrs. Cummins read it. She made me tell her everything. That is when I met Vickie Caldwell. Who was my very first therapist ever! I went to Cedar Ridge, a residential facility for mental health patients. It was okay. But I didn't get teh help I needed. And the memories didn't stop. They just put me on medication that made me feel worse, Liek a zombie. The medicine controlled me.
Well Let'sjust say He got sentenced to 30 years 10 suspended in prison. That should make me feel good right? Well it doesn't. He's not the guilty one, I am! After he left my mom took everything out on me. My mom started doing drugs again, and at 15 she tried to take her life in front of me, I felt fat, ugly, unloved, abandoned, guilty, unwanted.
I started cutting everyday. I only told one girl. But we got into a fight, and she told EVERYONE!
The bullying got worse, snickering in class, whispering, being shoved in the hallway, snide comments. The nasty things were said, and emailed:
"Go cut your wrists some more you freak!"
"Your such a freak!"
"Go kill yourself the world would be better off without you!"
"I'll shove food down yoru throat, hopefully you'll choke!"
"Everybody hates you"!
"We don't want you here, your so weird!"
Obviously I was upset. Self harm and purging was a everyday routine. I wanted to die!!!! Suicide???? Considered it A lot!
God what is wrong with me, I hate me, everyone hates me, why can't I just die????
Things happened, I found out my whole life was a lie, The guy my mom said was my dad, wasn't. I had a whole other life out there, a side of me I didn't know about. So they got back together, and I met him, found out I had five other siblings I never knew about. I was excited,until I lived with him. He was a pedophile. So my mom took me out of that situation to put me right back in it. He was abusive too. I can't seem to escape the realities of these things. So things happened, and I got put into foster care,
At first I hated it, soemtimes I still do, but I have to admit it is the best thing that heas ever happened to me, Though I try to push Melisa away, I am afraid of being hurt, I don't want to tell her that's the reason I am not honest. I am afraid she too will hate the real me. Because the girl I am now, she's just a mask I hide behind. I am still searching for the real me. I am Glad now though That I am loved.
I did finally find someone who make sme extremely happy. He makes me laugh and smile when I wanna cry. He understands me. And he is willing to listen to me, he walks me through the hard times, he is there for me when I need him most. I am beginnign to be the happiest I have ever been!!!!!!!!! And I love Him so much. His name Is Mitchell... Even his name is adorable. I wouldn't trade him for the world. I am so in love! <3 I am still shattered though. </3. I still have scars and memories that leave me screaming in the night. My body still isn't great. I've slipped up A lot since the. I still do it. I struggle. But I'm not perfect. People still get to me. I still live without my parents. I still feel worthless. Helpless. Can't hide from the pain I am always feeling. Can't hide from the scars that ae engraved on me. Can't hide from my violent nightmares. When I do sleep. I still hate to eat. I sometimes still feel dead inside. I still get moments where I have hope. I still hate my body. Honestly I'll probably feel like this forever.
 
I'll get used to it eventually..I try to stay strong...
I am not veyr good at it....
BUT I TRY..and that's what matters.
 
This is how others see me:
Broken, complicating, misunderstood, judged, inspired, happy, joyful, musical, HOPEFUL.
 
But when I am on the outside looking in, I see a girl with a Broken spirit, who will one day find her hope, her inner beauty, a loving family, and a sense of belonging in this world.
Because....I AM FOREVER STRONG! <3