Showing posts with label pain is pain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain is pain. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Help me, I am dying

I internalized all the bad things they said to me. I hear them, I feel them. But I don’t feel the good. That’s it in a nutshell. I watch the “good” Grace from outside of this body and I don’t know her, I don’t see her as part of me. I have no idea who she is even though she is “me”. Instead I carry around this sense of ‘badness’ that was drilled into my head for so many years: You are bad. You will never be anything. You are worthless. You are an evil whore. You are unlovable. No one will ever care about you. And I see that as the “real” Grace. I believed those things and I built walls to keep people out so they would not see the “real” me…the badness.

But I still see that girl. She is five, eight, ten, twelve…they are still inside me, screaming in pain, yelling at me to help them and here I am 25 years later, standing here alone with all of these girls so wounded and afraid and I am unable to help them. All of this pain from recent years has shattered me, ghosts haunt me, and I realize just how much hurt I never let go of. Every night takes me back to the most painful times in that girl’s life and I see just how little I have recovered from the destruction they left behind – the wreckage that was supposed to be me! All of the pain, all of the baggage they put on me, forced me to carry, it is too heavy! And I am so tired.

I plead with them at night, “Please don’t be like this…” And it is so frustrating because I don’t know how to make them be any other way. Every night I feel like I am trapped behind this one-way mirror and I can see everyone but no one can see me. And I am screaming for help but no one hears me. No one sees me. No one will help me manage them and I have no idea how to do it on my own. I feel diminutive and insignificant in a way that feels simply dreadful and it makes me feel worthless. I feel a bit like I don’t exist. I watch and listen and look and I am pleading…please help me…please see me here…but they don’t.

I know that’s not true. I know that can’t be true. People care about me, people love me, want to be with me, offer me help, try to get me to talk to them, but no one really SEES me. No one sees beyond the obvious projection of who I *appear* to be and into my shattered heart and deep into my soul. No one really knows her and that is what makes it feel so extraordinarily lonely, that’s what pushes me over the edge of the cliff and into the darkness…falling, falling, falling…and there’s no one to catch me. Where is everybody? Where are you? I can’t see the bottom and it’s so black and cold and I’m so afraid… but I have to believe that there is someone down there in the darkness that is strong enough to catch me because I’m not strong enough to catch myself. Because I am not strong enough to say out loud, “Please take my hand and help me, I am dying.”

And of course now I am crying and can barely see the computer screen and my dog, Sammy, is pressing his face under my arm and putting his paw in my lap as he tries to get as close to me as possible. He loves me and he’s trying to tell me, “It’s going to be okay Grace, I promise, we’re gonna make it after all.”

I need to take a deep breath and know that it’s okay. Because it is. Because it has to be.