Effigy of Abuse

I can't recall the last time my heart didn't ache. Like this constant feeling looming over my shoulder, like a bodyguard surveying my every movement.

What was meant to protect me, instead feels like this presence, breathing coldly over my neck.

I often would much rather ignore it, pretend it isn't there. Because the moment I dare let it know I'm being watched, I feel like something in me will break.

The moment I acknowledge it, I'll be dragged back into a spiral all over again.

I can't let it know that I know it's there. I can't let it see that I am afraid.

Company usually helps. When abuse so often happens in private spaces, having people as my witness makes me feel so much safer. But like dragging around dead weight, I can't help but feel like my bodyguard's looming presence is felt by all.

Or maybe it too is a product of my imagination. A way to make me feel like my loved ones won't stop it from hurting me. Or if I let them know about it, that it will hurt them too.

That I will hurt them too.

The bodyguard veils itself in the mockery of a guardian. When the most pain and hurt has come from those who claimed to be looking out for me, scoffing and beating me when I'm down and no longer of use to them.

I'm not surprised when my pain takes the shape of something that should be a guardian. Claiming to have my best interests at heart while spitting in my face when I weep.

I've grown accustomed to it being there. Years of hurt have taught my subconscious to believe that only those dedicated enough to hurt me had opinions worth considering. And with my dwindling sense of self-worth flickering at every doubt, their word was gospel.

When your spindly self gets painted as some sort of cult leader, you question yourself for years whether this truly is the case. Because everyone who likes you and is kind to you is nothing but a mindless blind follower, and only those who are truly enlightened see you for who you truly are. Worthless.

Or at least, that's what I used to believe years ago, when I used to wholeheartedly believe people's twisted perception of me. Having eroded my personality down to the point where I felt like a worthless excuse for a person. Feeling like less than trash while simultaneously, feeling like I'm Nothing.

Not Nothing in the more metaphorical sense of the word. But literally.

Nothing. Blank. Empty.

Better to be a spineless coward than to be ruthless and cruel.

Every day, it feels like life is jabbing at me with a stick, daring me to turn sour. Expecting me to grow resentful and mistrustful, to hurt the same way I've been hurt.

A cornered raccoon bearing broken fangs, dulled down by resentful hands who whisper that this is for my own good and only those who truly care about me will choose to harm me time and time again.

Kindness is stagnation, gentle words are a comfort zone, and any such indulgences speak to the weak spineless nature of my character.

I've been regarded as gentle and kind, characteristics that confound me when I feel that maybe deep down I am not a good person.

I don't feel gentle.

I feel afraid.

Everything terrifies me. The tone of someone's voice, to be alone with someone else for extended periods of time, to feel like I'll never have closure for the ways I've hurt and been hurt.

I can't allow myself to become resentful. I'm afraid of the person I'll become if rage ever decides to take the place where fear lives in my heart.

I know even the slightest drop of anger will turn me into someone I'd despise. I'd feel like a monster. I'd feel like all the things they said about me were true. I'd feel like all the work I've done to improve myself would be gone in an instant.

I often wonder if the reason I can't sleep at night is because I feel like a stupid piece of shit.

But knowing I'm a stupid piece of shit doesn't make me better than the other pieces of shit.

Dinner.

Then I need to finish packing. I'm going on a trip to celebrate my birthday, surrounded by friends I love. My mood usually grows more volatile around the week of my birthday, and I can't stand the bodyguard's presence feeling this heavy on my back.

Perhaps writing things down will appease it, and the bodyguard won't feel the need to climb in the plane to watch over me.

I need a break too.