Dear God. I am so low.
Even as I start this prayer my eyes fill and my hands shake …. I feel so undeserving.
I’m not a good person. I try to make up for it by being kind and decent to people, gentle to a fault. I love animals. I’m careful to leave small footprints wherever I go. I show compassion and empathy everywhere, even in places it doesn’t belong.
It’s all quite the load of bullshit though isn’t it? No one cares.
People take such tones with me. Tones I do not deserve, but I’ll take them straight to heart anyway. This is how I’ve learned to torture myself. Their words just circle my mind like deranged seagulls. Swooping indiscriminately at emotions.
I’m just nothing inside. Failed at everything but staying alive. Failed as a daughter, as a family member. Failed gracelessly so many times. There never was a family who liked me. Some tried to love me but the abomination I would become was never loveable, in the end.
My family, for all the concession I made, up to and including taking abuse in place of love, was my worst failure of all. Not even good enough to fuck and throw around the room, what a mess I must have seemed. Tiny, bird like peeps from the crying blob in the corner. They even blamed me for his eventual demise.
I wasn’t good at being a wife. I didn’t do that right at all. I never cheated and tried to make him happy. He was too young to be married. Didn’t know. I left him so easily. Same way I left my family. Not much of pang. I tried to make up for it by leaving him everything except my clothes. House included. I haven’t owned a home since.
I’m a mad fuck up at every kind of relationship there is. I’m not even a good employee. Everyone I work with complains about me or dislikes me somehow. It’s as though it takes different amounts of time for people to see through the pretty, capable image I holographically project onto my real, apathetic grayed out face. Once they see the first crack in the mask they are never fooled again.
Out of options, I become meek. Suicidal, humiliated and avoidant. I huddle down in the corner of the room, slide behind the furniture, and curl my body into the smallest ball humanity has ever known. A blip on a heart monitor. Makes soothing, alive sounds and quells the panic of death, imminent or otherwise. I make those noises with appropriate faces in combinations that soothe those around me into silence.
It’s that silence I want now. To sit in a bright white room completely sound proofed and enclosed. Noises make the ground rumble here; the vibrations make me nauseous. Vibrant white light with no sounds; nothing to hear or even listen for. It’s the only thing I want.
It’s the only thing I want.
Everything else is for someone else.
I don’t feel anything but alive, God. Isn’t there supposed to be something else in here? Am I wasting your time? I’m sure you have a long queue and all…
Amen over and out.
**Dear readers, please understand, I’m not suicidal. Just needed to get this out of my head** I’ll be fine again, eventually.