How the hell did I get here?
My world imploding around me and I feel like an outsider, watching myself and I can't make it stop. It's like an out of body experience. Watching one of those scenes on TV of buildings being brought down to ruble and dust by explosives detonated inside. Collapsing into itself leaving nothing behind but a pile of debris of what was once a solid structure.
On the surface it looked like any other building around. Solid, nondescript. It didn't stand out as overly flashy. It wasn't coming apart at the seams. Inside, it was falling apart. Torn apart and barely standing. Emotional termites eating away at integral beams that were holding it all together.
Scars of the past ripping away all that was good and was decent. All that I tried so hard to hold on to for so long. Not able to let go of a life I never wanted, a way that infected my soul. Made me lose a part of myself. Made me numb to things that most people would balk at. And I should have.
I should have seen outrage. I should have never let people do or say things that they did to me more than half my life. I was always treated like I wasn't a person. Like an object. I was only good for one thing, and treated as such. Talked to as such. And I let them. Oh why god did I let them?
I was never respected, I was never valued as anything other than that. I was raped, I was sexually assaulted. I was talked to like all anyone wanted was one thing my entire life. Treated objectively and never like I was worth shit. And I would let people. I would laugh it off as though it were normal. I would feed back into it like it was normal. Like it was everyday water cooler conversation. I was in abusive relationships. I let people berate me and treat me like emotional garbage. I was never good enough.
I knew no other way.
I tried to do anything I could for other people. I tried so hard to be a good person, to seem like I was a good person. I threw myself into charities, maybe thinking that the more I did for others maybe it would negate the horrible way I felt about myself. It would counter act perhaps how awful I felt about myself.
I was never pretty enough, skinny enough. I always felt like I was being judged. Being ridiculed. The only compliments I got were in THAT nature. The only positive reinforcement I got. My own family often made me feel so inadequate. I never finished college, I always needed rescuing. I was a fuck up.
All my friends were happily married, they were successful. There I was, child out of wedlock with a drug addict criminal, in and out of court, barely treading water in life. I was a disaster. I was the one people whispered about. The one that was the butt of jokes.
I hid behind sarcasm and sexuality. I didn't know how to react to people treating me like a human being. It didn't seem to happen often.
And when I finally had someone who loved me, put me on a pedestal and loved me for everything I was, I didn't know what to do. And in the beginning it was an hard transition for me. It was confusing and I didn't know what to do, and back then we broke up. We ended and I realized I was batshitcrazy.
I loved him. LOVED him. I was possibly screwing up the best thing that ever happened to me and I couldn't let that happen.
And shortly after we fixed it. Or moreover I fixed me. In part. I recognized that I needed to not be afraid of him, but to cherish him. To let him know I loved him. To let down a lot of the cynical walls I had built up. And I tried. I loved every part of him. I did everything I could to show him I loved him.
I just failed miserably at trying to find anyway at loving myself. At still feeling like I was worthy of him. I was struggling. I was still that broken shell of myself inside. Still that battered woman who wasn't worth the love of such a man. And I was so screwed up inside. I wish I knew why. I wish I knew a lot of things.
I was that building. I looked stoic and structurally sound, but inside I was condemned. I was con-caving into myself and I had no idea. I turned a blind eye to myself. All I saw was how happy I was with him, how much I loved him. Never how much I hated myself. And I WAS happy with him. He was perfect. It was never about him, never about not loving him enough. God knows I love him more than anything.
Like a knit sweater caught on a nail, I was unraveling. It was me that was falling apart.
I hate being broken. I hate myself for some of the decisions I've made. I hate myself for the pain that I have caused because of my own insecurities and inner fucked-upness. I have been drowning in a vat of my own self loathing. Falling deeper into an abyss that I can't get out of.
I want to fix it. To fix myself. To make everything be ok again. I want to be whole.
I want my life with the man I have been in love with long before I ever admitted it, even to myself. I want to be with him until there is no longer breath in my body. I want to raise our children together. To come home from work and cook dinner and ask "how was your day dear". I want that simple, easy, happy, seemingly boring, loving life. I only want it with him.
The man who melts me with one look in his hazel green eyes, with lashes that go on for days. Who has been making off the cuff sarcastic remarks and inside jokes with me since 2007. I want it with the man who I have gone to with everything for the past 4 years. To me there is no life without him. I can't picture my life without him.
I ache if I try.
And I'm sorry that I'm a failure as a human being. Sorry that I am so damaged. Sorry that I am who I am. Sorry I am not worthy of your love.
It's all I want. For eternity.
