I need a break. A respite from my feelings. I know that must sound strange assuming that most like to feel; it's how they know that they are alive. Me, my feelings taunt me and remind me that I'm not dead. Flashback after flashback invade my frazzled mind and body until my pounding heart is breaking in the wake of no relief.
How long have you felt depressed?
I don't remember not feeling depressed...
When was the last time you felt happy?
I have fleeting moments of happiness...
When did the abuse begin?
I don't remember not being abused...
I started seeing a new shrink and those were some of her questions and then some of my answers. There was a rhythm to my replies which involved prolonged misery.
I want to feel better so I go to a shrink. I take medication. I see my therapist. I feel and it hurts like hell but I think that I am working hard and at some point it will pay off. But then there is a lingering suspicion he knew that even after he was gone his evil would still haunt and hurt me.
What kind of person brings a child into this world and shapes her childish life to know nothing but confusion, pain and sadness? Terror that she longs to stop even after you are gone. I bet he's laughing now knowing that I'm still pleading with the hurt to end.
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