I haven't been on theotaku for a long time.
I have been trying different experiments on my self...
Not with with a lab or any thing just things to test my strength.
As hard it is for me to admit this I will do it anyway...I have realised I am not that strong.
I have been through a...few things in my life and thought because I can hide things inside me I am strong. It takes more strength to say it then to hide it. I thought if I hid things from my self I would be safe within my self. How wrong I was.
I had tried to stop writting stories and with every night that passed I would ache for a pen and book. I guess It was hard for me to let go of some thing that had become a part of me. Every time I tried to push it away the more I would want to do it. It's just like my past memories. The more I tried to fight it the more I remembered until my past became a physicle pain to me. I would try to hide in the confines of my room but was always forced out. I began to fall apart and thought I was putting myself back together.
My friends (if that's what you could call them) never understood me. I guess that was my fault to. I never understood myself. All the excuses I threw about me ment nothing but emptyness. The friendship I offered to people was empty and only one way. I would help them. Don't get me wrong, I was always there for them and if I couldn't be there in person I was there on the phone for them. They only had to dial...
Again that was a fault I had. I was there for them when they needed me, only when they needed me. I never called out. I never called when I needed help. They weren't there for me because I wouldn't let them. I didn't want anyones help. I didn't want their help because it would show me for what I really feel and need. And I being naieve told myself I didn't need what they offered. I pushed them away and the calls began to lessen untill eventually they stopped.
The tears they shed for their problems went silently away and they got on with their lives with out me.
I realised that by pushing them away from me I had made them feel like I didn't like them. I had pushed my self out of their lives.
I wanted to prove that I could what I said and I tried thinking that I was succeeding. I was only making myself worse. I write stories and poetry. I wrote since before I could remember and I still write it. I tried to trick my self into thinking I could stop.
With out writting I felt empty and I longed to write thinking I was winning I really failed.
I failed in it and I guess by failing it has showed me what else I failed in.
When I was younger I failed. I failed to stop...him
When I got older I knew and I failed again I could have stopped them and I didn't.
I failed to get away. I was afraid of change. I will always regret not getting away sooner.
I failed to stop the three of them and I thought if I could hide that from myself that I would be fine.
Though they hurt me and my own family didn't care, didn't believe me. Even though they kept hurting me for years after, the hitting and touching, I don't think they could have hurt me as much as I hurt myself after it. The things I used to try and escape the emotional pain they had heaved onto me.
I cut my wrist and over doesed and ended up in hospital for only two of the times I have Over Doesed. I wrote to escape and to try to escape from writing was stupid and only took me back to where I started.
Where all the pain began and what I didn't do to stop it. It plays on my mind like a constant movie. Haunting me and my failers.
