5/3/2024
...You spend so much of your life in fight or flight. Anticipating the next knockout and doubting not only your capabilities but your worth. The voices consume all the hope and suck the air out of the room. I have a few wires crossed- it's the cost of my experiences... of my wounds. I've spent so much of my time in spaces being unwanted, discarded, used up, and spit out. Being the "thing" that gratifies your needs was the highest status I could attain...and at my worst, trash.
I still find myself frustrated with Her at times, but more often than not, I'm stuck wondering how anyone could've ever hated Her or ever wanted to cause Her any harm. How could someone look at Her innocence as something they were entitled to? Why would they desire to break Her? I don't ask those questions expecting I'll ever find the answer. I think it's a good sign I can't understand it... because I'm nothing like them. I know destruction, but I choose to cause no harm. And although I've been infected with evil, I choose to heal.
I'm fighting to find peace within myself. This delicate balance of fixing something I didn't break. The peace I do have today is worth everything I lost to get here. A good friend described the return of the shadow as a relapse, an addiction. I'm addicted to abusing myself. It's the only way I've learned to relate to myself and anything outside of it feels...unnatural. So much so, that I can't comprehend why others love me. Who could love trash? Why would you love it?
I'm like a cat with 9 lives. Always landing on my feet somehow. I don't keep track of the lives- not sure where the count currently rests, but it feels like multiple... The shadow always lingers in the background. Just waiting for the most opportune moments to remind me of the worst moments of my life. All my senses reenact the experiences like it's some fucked up version of my favorite 4DX movie.
The shadow inevitably comes back but today. Today, I'm louder than all the other noise. At the very least, today serves as a bridge. Buys me time, until the next relapse hits. Maybe it's the few crossed wires, but for that, I'm grateful.
