demons
I used to think when people said they had demons in their head, it was just an over-dramatization or misunderstanding they had within but now that I have these demons, I feel so naïve for downplaying the raw honesty of this statement. I suppose it is human to try to minimize the hurt you may have caused for someone through words, actions, thoughts or whatever avenue taken but eventually they come back to haunt you.
I have certain memories in my head from childhood that just arrived about 2 ½ years ago. As quickly as they entered my mind, I felt paralyzed by them. I’m not sure if these memories were squashed, repressed, blocked out or, as in the most recent development of my mind; dreamed up and not in fact genuine at all. I quickly filed them away because clearly I was in no shape to confront them but now they are a constant. They resurfaced last fall.
I’ve never felt such confusion in my own memories.
I have never confided in anyone what they are, I AM SO ASHAMED.
I DO know that if, in fact, these things really did happen, I just don’t think I can live with it. This is not an exaggeration. I can’t even actually put them in to written words because I don’t think I would be able to handle reading them. I don’t know what I would be capable of if I accepted these thoughts.
My suicide mission years ago was something I really wanted and although I haven’t attempted since, I still pray not to wake up at times and the shame of even this keeps me from succeeding in the life that I do have. Three weeks ago I thought I was having a heart attack. Instead of telling someone, I prayed to god to take me and I went to sleep. I haven’t been to work since. I have barely left the house. I want to give up.
It is never on purpose but each day as I try to wake up and start new, I just can’t.
Or won’t.
And don’t.
It is a cycle that I keep repeating and each and every time it happens, I die a little bit more. I feel like I am losing myself.
Eventually I somehow manage to get it together and try again, each time with such determination and I sincerely feel happy when I get into a routine but it never lasts….never even for a full month.
I shouldn’t say that because in January it did last for a full month, exactly 30 days, and then I fell off again. I was so proud of these 30 days and almost like clockwork, as I began to feel confident that I could turn it around, I just let it go. I could feel it slipping from my fingers, yet did nothing to stop it.
Why don’t I stop it?
I had a party for the holiday’s last year and if you were there you would have never guessed the pain I held inside that night. I did the standard phony, happy girl routine I regularly perform and there were a few great moments but the night before and the hours after the party were spent in total self hatred. I spent the entire next day absolutely hating myself. I feel that way so often that the days normally blend into each other but every once in a while a memory will stand out and the feeling of loathing towards myself during that period of time is one of them.
I spend hours contemplating if this is mental illness or karma of past events.
Not long ago, I learned of a confession made by my father. It seems that I was born because my mother raped him or this is the story he is telling anyway. I never knew this and I am conflicted as to whether I needed to ever learn this. On the one hand, it would explain why I have always felt I didn’t belong here on earth as a human being and why I absolutely hate myself in every way possible. On the other hand, I feel so incredibly hurt by this thought of being a curse to my parents merely by being born. It stings so badly, I can’t even type this without being in a full hysteria.
I feel so worthless.
I don’t know if I have ever felt pain like this. It’s different from being mistreated, having a broken heart or feeling lonely. It’s something I can never change.
This is the worst information I could have ever learned, maybe it will be the most healing somehow but for now it is the fuel the demons are feeding on and I am at a loss as to how to turn the devastation into something positive, something that will give me the strength to…..
I don’t even quite know how to complete that sentence.
