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From a distance she heard Her condemnatory voice say “You need HELP,” as the door quickly slammed shut behind it. She stood there quietly staring at herself in the mirror with a hair brush in one hand and a blow dryer in the other. She heard every hateful words from many past conversations that were vomited in her direction, every word formed by judgment, ignorance, hate, rejection, and abandonment and she was overcome by hate. A hate beyond description, a hate only felt by someone who once esteemed and valued the provoker greatly…a hate that she could not control.
She watched her eyes turn bright red as the pressure of not allowing herself to break down and cry penetrated her skull. Her eyes increasingly watered with each second that she held her breath, but as the hurt multiplied in indescribable measure it decidingly overwhelmed her entire being. It was as if she couldn’t process the emotional of such great proportions, as if she couldn’t absorb it and the only hope for release was to turn the hurt and rage inward even if that meant hurting herself physically in the process. She dropped the hair brush and blow dryer and placed her palms flat against the wall as she backed up, pressing herself up against it never taking her eyes off of her reflection. Her heart raced and skipped, her head throbbed and her chest pulsated with every grasp for breath. She crumbled slowly down to the floor and burst into silent tears not quite understanding what was happening inside of her. She yanked and pulled at her own hair hoping to transfer some of the aching but it was to no avail. She knew that she needed to get away, this wasn’t who she was. This wasn’t how she’d ever reacted, and maybe she couldn’t complete this process after all. Maybe it was facing her own demons and not the pill itself that would be the end of her.
She composed herself the best that she could, grabbed her sunglasses and keys and headed for the mountains. Weaving through traffic, music blasting she was imploding with every mph that she increased.
Who had she become?
How long until she would be back to normal again?
She suddenly thought about her family, the same family that had ostracized her since childhood too ostracized others. One of whom defined his self worth by the measure of their criticisms, their demeaning jokes and their constant need to be viewed as “more important.” There was just too much to take in all at one time. There was so much desperation imploding in her soul that she could taste it in every tear that ran down to her lips. She raced her way up to the top, a vista that over looked the city from miles high. She pulled over, and ran towards the nearest fence that she believed that she could get past. She stopped short of the cliff that she had visited years and years ago; a place that at one time represented serenity was now offering her either one more chance at sanity or one very morbid way out.
She stood there quietly, taking in the moo’ing cows, the wind and the chirping squirrels. With the wind blowing at her now exhausted body, she felt her sympathetic nervous system kick in in high gear allowing her the ability to sit down, take in the view and breathe again.
She watched her eyes turn bright red as the pressure of not allowing herself to break down and cry penetrated her skull. Her eyes increasingly watered with each second that she held her breath, but as the hurt multiplied in indescribable measure it decidingly overwhelmed her entire being. It was as if she couldn’t process the emotional of such great proportions, as if she couldn’t absorb it and the only hope for release was to turn the hurt and rage inward even if that meant hurting herself physically in the process. She dropped the hair brush and blow dryer and placed her palms flat against the wall as she backed up, pressing herself up against it never taking her eyes off of her reflection. Her heart raced and skipped, her head throbbed and her chest pulsated with every grasp for breath. She crumbled slowly down to the floor and burst into silent tears not quite understanding what was happening inside of her. She yanked and pulled at her own hair hoping to transfer some of the aching but it was to no avail. She knew that she needed to get away, this wasn’t who she was. This wasn’t how she’d ever reacted, and maybe she couldn’t complete this process after all. Maybe it was facing her own demons and not the pill itself that would be the end of her.
She composed herself the best that she could, grabbed her sunglasses and keys and headed for the mountains. Weaving through traffic, music blasting she was imploding with every mph that she increased.
Who had she become?
How long until she would be back to normal again?
She suddenly thought about her family, the same family that had ostracized her since childhood too ostracized others. One of whom defined his self worth by the measure of their criticisms, their demeaning jokes and their constant need to be viewed as “more important.” There was just too much to take in all at one time. There was so much desperation imploding in her soul that she could taste it in every tear that ran down to her lips. She raced her way up to the top, a vista that over looked the city from miles high. She pulled over, and ran towards the nearest fence that she believed that she could get past. She stopped short of the cliff that she had visited years and years ago; a place that at one time represented serenity was now offering her either one more chance at sanity or one very morbid way out.
She stood there quietly, taking in the moo’ing cows, the wind and the chirping squirrels. With the wind blowing at her now exhausted body, she felt her sympathetic nervous system kick in in high gear allowing her the ability to sit down, take in the view and breathe again.
This wasn't necessarily how I would have liked to begin the new year, but what I've learned is that until my brain and emotions get on the same page again, I will have to be finding new ways of calming myself or simply soothing whatever hurt the past attempts to throw in my path. I feel as though staying away from everyone would be safest. I wouldn't unknowingly hurt the people that I care about and the ones that don't care if they hurt me won't get the chance to.... I don't know how I'll remedy this but what I do know is that I don't need anyone telling me "to get help," unless it's coming from genuine concern rather than out of being selfishly ignorant. I don't need anyone telling someone who is trying to be supportive of this entire process to "not be afraid to let (me) go," when they've never proven to be there themselves. I need support, or nothing from you at all. I don't care who you are because real pain shows no prejudice.
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