I want to shoot myself in the head. I am happy.
Those two thoughts constantly battle in my head. They exist simultaneously, and I feel them strongly. I wish I could kill the part of me that desires the silence and peace.
I am a coward. I was alone in my car going 90 if I could have just turned the steering wheel a few degrees to the right for a few yards I would have hit a concrete column.
There are invisible hands on top of mine guiding me, forcing me, holding me back.
I gave every last bit of myself.
You found being my father an inconvenience. I heard you say that if you’d known about condoms, I wouldn’t have been born.
Neglect and apathy may have contributed to the circumstances in which I was assaulted, molested and abused by my parent’s acquaintances, relatives, and friends. There were times that I was denied food, clothes, and education as punishment for breaking arbitrary rules.
I sacrificed myself believing it was the only way to win approval and to be loved. Still, I lost.
In losing I discovered I won. I won freedom from judgements and unattainable expectations. Freedom has granted me the space to fall in love with myself.
The ideal family is an impossible fantasy made up of roles we’ve been delegated to play. A standard imposed upon us by a society bent on conformity.
You want to shove me into your little boxes with your cute little labels. Cut off the inconvenient parts of me, the ones that don’t fit your mold of what a perfect woman, daughter, wife should be. You want me to shut up about my feelings and quit having ‘those’ thoughts. You want a life uncomplicated by the dark blues and greys that pattern my soul and bleed onto yours.
I came to a crossroad. I’ve decided to stop trying to follow along a path that is not mine to walk. I’ve set the sadness down; it isn’t mine to carry. Fear and shame do not belong to me either; I release them.