on hurting.

I am broken.


It seems hell is full of fun time circus mirrors, and this is probably why they call it hell. These mirrors distort things, they make me think I am climbing out but in reality, I am just walking in circles laughing at the things I morph into.


There are circus clowns in hell, too, trying to distract me from figuring out that I'm actually still trapped in hell. They wear masks of self-serving yuck with painted smiles the color of Eve's apple and inviting eyes that I buy into because I still have zero concept of boundaries or any understanding that not everyone is like me. And these clowns, these clowns see it all over me, my vulnerabilities, confusions, d i s t o r t e d r e a l i t i e s - all caused by prior clowns. I am THEIR clown. Ha.


 


I still BELIEVE. This is the root of all of my pain.


I still believe that people sincerely value me when in reality they want to use me because of my story, my looks, my wit and intelligence. They want to use me because I have everything they lack. They want to use me because they see my good soul and they try to suck it out of me for their own personal gain, time and time again.


and i let them.


This is how I know I haven't learned a thing while stuck in this vortex of Barnum & Bailey's 7th circle of circus hell. Because I just keep letting them. I keep that hope that maybe this one will actually stick around and not put another dynamite into my heart, light it on fire, and then run away, as they vanish behind those funhouse mirrors, their mask left behind on the floor that I pick up - the only remnants of them that remain.


A part of me feels like there is no God because what God lets a person be repeatedly violated, betrayed, shamed, abused, abandoned??


Do I just stop believing in things? Do I become something I'm not by putting a hardened shell up around my entire being becoming the very same clowns that have done this to me? Do I never trust or love again?


And I fight the path to freedom. I fight that I might have to lose my sense of self to make it out of hell. I might have to become something I'm not, a soulless robot who treats all humans as though they are a business investment. I fear this is the only way I make it because nobody has heart anymore. Nobody thinks of others as I think of them. They soothe themselves and their heinous facades by projecting their hurties onto me, me. ME. As though I haven't been through enough as it is.


I keep telling myself that they are the ones that are actually suffering but if I am being honest, and I always am, I don't BELIEVE this for one second. If this were true, why is it so easy for one to contribute to the demise of an already defeated woman? Why is it easy for one to pretend to care about a vulnerable woman while using her as a band-aid for their own screwed up problems?


I hate society right now. I hate myself, too. I hate that I hate.



 

I like to people watch. I could sit in an airport all day & just watch other humans doing very human things & having very human feelings. Airports are the best places for these kinds of observations because statistically, for every happy reunion from someone getting off the plane & into the arms of a loved one, there is an equal disaster from the couple with young children & an overbooked flight.


It's amazing to see the stark contrasts in what happiness & utter despair look like in real time. You can see how one event can so easily lead to the things we want in life or the things we'd rather jump out of a plane than have to deal with.


It never fails; after I get kids to bed, I'm left in this transient limbo of happiness & despair. I kind of aimlessly walk around the house talking to the therapist in my head. For too long I have desired one of those pure, get off the plane experiences. For someone to really be happy to see me. To throw their arms around me & tell me how much they love me. Instead, I'm the girl getting abandoned because something happened out of my control or for basically existing, in all honesty. I'm the girl that sits seething inside as I am berated & negated. Soul dying again.


These transient limbos leave me angry at myself for letting it happen, angry at the person for thinking they can treat someone that way, & angry at the happy people.


I won't pretend feigned indifference BUT I cannot become one of the unhappy ones, so I just keep staying stuck in this place of fear. Fear is what it comes down to. Fear that I'm unlovable, defected, not worthy. Mostly, that there is no one out there that will love me like I love myself, my flaws and all. And maybe I'm not worthy, not worthy of the man child that is too proud to tend to his core wounds, for the friends that only keep me around for my advice, for all of the people that have betrayed and abandoned me along the way. Maybe, just maybe, I'm worthy of so much more.... heh.