Wednesday, 20 October 2010

So today all the purple shirts are making me feel sad

I am mine.
It's a lesson you learn early if you're going to grow up with abuse. You look around you and realise; the only person who cares what happens to me is within this flesh. My father beats me and from the way he talks to me I understand he hates me, my mother never speaks up for me. They both don't care. Or at least Mom doesn't care enough.
So within your walls you are safe. You live far away, you're princess Mia or Laura Ingells Wilder. You're Queen Amidala or Hermione Granger. You know you could be all these people if only you could get away. If you could get away you could be anything and everything. Everyone would love you. Like Mia's mother loved her, Laura's Pa made her safe, Queen Amidala kicked everyone's butt, and Hermione was so smart she didn't really need Harry and Ron, but she had them.
But in your heart of hearts, you know you can't be those people. First off, they're not real. Secondly, you were raised here, by these people. They don't love you enough to stop hitting you or to keep other people from doing so. In fact, they do things simply because they hate you, because it hurts. Moreover, they are nice to other people. SO nice, in fact, that your cousins envy your wonderful father.
"You must be so happy,"
So, that sneaky part of your mind that knows you can't be Hermione, no matter how hard it wishes, it knows why as well. There's something wrong with you. If your own father, who is simply marvelous to everyone else, is beating you; wouldn't that mean you were somehow deficient? If your own mother, who is supposed to love you and protect you, just watches as it happens, doesn't that say something about who you are?
So you try to change. Your father says everything is your fault? Maybe it is. You take responsibility. You're Mom says if you did housework better or "rubbed your father the wrong way" less, it would all work out? You become the maid. You stay out of your father's way. You say he is always right. You try...
But that doesn't work. Years go by and he still hates you and she still blames you and so you move on. You decide:
I am mine,
My parents have decided I am unworthy, and maybe I am. I have tried to change that and it's become obvious that I can't. This is one of the saddest conclusions you will ever have to come to. There is nothing you can change that will make you alright. Nothing you can do that will make you worth not hitting, not hating. That will make you worth love.
So, now what? You can't exactly live like this. You won't be able to survive the years it takes to get out of this horrible place. You won't make it out to see if you can be Hermione, the dreamy part of your brain screams.
So I will do it, the sneaky part says. If no one else wants the job, and it has to be done, then I will give it my best shot.
And you cocoon yourself. God, but it is a wonderful feeling. You think, it's ok that no one else loves me, because I do. I'm the reason I've survived this long, I'm the reason I will leave. I may not have Pa or Harry or Ron, or even jedi awesomeness. But I have something that's kept me afloat this long.
I have Me.
And with that power come certain limits. The only reason you realise you have this power is because that is also all you have. It will always be this way, only you. Within your own skin you're safe, because you trust You. You has kept you alive, placated you when it was hard, pushed you to still care when you almost gave up... Loved you.
Other people not so much.
So, one day You, with all your force and power, leaves. And you are safe, with the person you love. But it still hurts, because even though they are far away, hate radiates. It reaches everywhere. I can feel my father's hate from across the globe. In my dreams. In my memories. In my bones.
Because it is ME.
You want someone to prove that you are wrong, but you see only what proves you right. You want to hope. But You know it's just the dreamy part of your brain wishing to be Hermione again.
And you know that outside of your walls, there is a world filled with people. Not necessarily good people. Not bad people. But they are people. They are not You. And so you know how they will feel.
Outside of You you are unworthy.

1 comment:

  1. Wow. Did I ever tell you you're my hero? I'm not kidding. You really are.