But I've been thinking about why I am the way I am, and I've come to the conclusion that it's because of many past experiences that now sum up with the fact that I've never really reacted to them, just forced them down below my subconscious and attempted to forget them.
I succeeded for the most part, except I didn't forget. So now all those memories are coming back to haunt me. Awake or asleep, I have flashbacks, and they're starting to scare me. Because I think I may finally be going fully batshit cray-cray.
I remember everything. Every single thing.
The being beaten until my skin turned purple and my blood flowed.
The being beaten with any object at hand: plastic skipping rope, leather belt, makka stick (thorn bush to you foreign-minded ones), knife, lead pencil....or when there was nothing, the heavy hand.
On my back, legs, hands, anywhere, like I was some fucking slave.
The being beaten for almost any reason, like taking candy from my best friend in 3rd grade, or chasing my housemate down for my favorite ruler when I was 5, or reading and watching TV simultaneously, or not being able to cut my chicken properly when I was 8, or not being able to make my bed (with a comforter that to this day probably weighs more than I do) properly.
The psychological torture when I heard to "Go fi di belt mek I show yuh sumting in yah tidday" and I knew the specific belt I was being sent for, the one leather belt that knew my body much better than I did.
The being told, when I was bawling living eyewater, to shut the fuck up because I had nothing to be crying about.
All the "days after", when I couldn't sit, or my hands were numb, or my ears were still ringing.
When I couldn't look at myself in the mirror for weeks because my self-confidence was ruined.
You think I want to remember? Fuck no, I don't! But I have to, because memory is a bitch and I still have to wake up, every day, and say good morning to the person who did this to me.
I don't pop pills like my friends pop Trident gum. I don't inject, snort, puff (anymore), inhale, I try my damnedest not to drink. I don't dope, period.
Although it's tempting to have just one drink or hit just one blunt. But I find that it's harder for me to stop something than to start it. Habits are easy to make, but the breaking thereof......not so much.
Therefore, I am stuck with these feelings of anger, hate and regret.
I'm angry because I had to go through this, when no child, no one, should have to. I had to go through it for most of my life, since I was 3 or to 4 until I was 11.
I think I may actually hate this man, though I'd rather not, but...there's years of underlying resentment there and, well..... it turns to hate if left to fester long enough.
I regret not speaking up sooner. If I had then...maybe I would be able to forget.
And my feels aren't broken at all? Damn, I must be stronger than I think.
They say that the potential for abuse of any kind is hereditary. With that in mind, I don't think I can ever have kids. Because I see aspects of him in me. Which is....not good.
So to all y'all who been wondering why SJ's the way she is, complete with horrible self-esteem, mental unstability, trust issues the size of a blue whale and a strange kinship with Eminem and Sia.....this is why.
Yours in fucked-upness,
-me.
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