Friday, March 13, 2015

From Within It Devours

I hear this voice. It screams at me, "You'll never succeed. You'll never be good enough." These words remain with me and I can do nothing to silence the echoes that remain. How do I drive them out? I think, “You are responsible for me being as I am. You created this monster that cares not if she lives or dies.” I cover my ears and I can still hear that cruel voice. I scream and the words are still there. As long as the voices remain I'm in a prison. I can't escape and am imprisoned in my own house. You see, there are no bars keeping me here, but escape is not an option. If I am let free, how would I survive? I only know abuse in my life. First it was by my abuser and then it continued in my own head. I begin to glimpse images of my childhood. I remember times the belt came down. I revisit moments where I didn’t feel that my torment would ever end and part of me prayed for death in that moment. What crime was so awful of me to bear such treatment? Visions of letting my blood flow freely torment me for I fear that is my only means of escape: death. I realize that I would not wish for another to find me in such a condition. I acknowledge the doctor prescribed me a medication to drown out this voice. What harm could come from taking the entire bottle. This can’t be an option for I risk my children finding me in such a condition and I have already failed them greatly. As I drive along I think, “I could end the suffering by swerving into oncoming traffic.” Also this can’t be a way out, because I would stand in judgment in the afterlife for taking out others in my quest to end my pain. Who would miss me if I were not here? I am nothing. I am no one. I am utterly alone in this world. The more I consider it the more I realize death may be the only escape for me. I am trapped in my past. The voices I hear are my own and from within it is devouring me. If you are told constantly that you will fail, you most certainly will. I desire the freedom to embrace the world with open arms. I realize in the end I don’t need a knight in shining armor to save me. I have it within myself. I did not survive 15 years as a victim to continue for more than 15 more. I am a fighter and I am a survivor. When I feel my strength faltering, I look into the eyes of my daughter and I realize something great. I am now aware that she is looking up to me guidance and as a role model. She does not need to see me on my knees begging for release. She deserves a mom that holds her arms in the air and screams, “Life, is that the best you can do? You hit like a little girl.”