Where did he go?

I used to think my dad was a good man but would a good man beat his wife while dying of COVID? I know pain can create a monster but it also created a mad man

I used to think the only man I love was a good man but he showed me even the best can hurt you the worst.

I’ve been beaten and raped by a bad man, but men can be bad in different ways, like cheating on a pregnant woman, like choosing what’s easy instead of trying hard to make it work for your family.

Where did he go? The one I knew I could count on when everything fell apart, the one who knew the pain men caused me and promised it won’t be the same. I never really needed to be fixed, I needed to be loved.

After all the disappointment I’ve been in my almost 30 years, this was the sharpest knife and the deepest stab in the back because learning the worst heart break and betrayal could come from the one you felt safest with, you don’t recover from that.

It turned me into the mad man I call my father, the man who loved and was taken advantage of, he who is possessed by anger and self hatred, he sits peacefully in his room asking himself why did they replace me and he comes out with red in his eyes and strikes the woman he thought was perfect because even after years of choosing her, she chose someone else for the thrill of it.

But I’m my father now, I’m consumed and marinating in a mix of anger, depression and chaos, where my emotions are turning into cocktails of disaster and I have no control over my heart because it bleeds at the very thought, “he doesn’t love me”

He loves someone who won’t do half as much for him, why does he not want me?

He chose someone who already loves someone else, why does he not want me?

He showers her with affirmation while she gets it from other lovers, why doesn’t he fucking want me?

I’m a zombie and I don’t say brains brains brains, the only thought that has consumed my very night and day, that turned a once happy woman into an image that brings so much pain when staring into a mirror is, he doesn’t love you, he doesn’t want you.

Where did he go? After all this I want him to come back, why is my desperation for someone that may not even exist stronger than my will to live? Is it the need to give our child the family I once desired but never had? Is it a love that I should have conditioned but decided to keep forgiving mistakes so I could spend my life with a man who is now a ghost?

Where did he go? I just wanna know. Why do I love someone who isn’t here anymore?

Maybe one day

And maybe one day you’ll find the sadness you gifted me with

You’ll hate how hard you try to get rid of it but it’s constant

Maybe one day you’ll wake up and miss my laughter

Then you’ll remember how I stopped one day for no reason.

Maybe one day you’ll look up at the rainbow and remember I looked at you the same way, with so much hope.

Then you’ll remember how the colours turned to tears.

Maybe one day you’ll hear a song and remember I once sang that to you

But I stopped singing because you stopped asking me to

Maybe one day you’ll finally see that you were counting stars when you already had the moon.

And just maybe you’ll call my name and hear no answer because you’ve lost me, not to another, not to death, but to the pain you drowned me in.

Am I really okay?

It’s been months, I’ve suppressed every bit of anger and sadness that I’ve been feeling towards life. I no longer know the meaning of “take one pill before bed”

I mean why would I? On one hand I’m trying my best to not have a seizure but on the other hand I’m angry that I ever had one. The world tells you that you’re supposed to be strong, get through it, it’s gonna be okay? But no, I have all this bitterness waiting to break out and shout that it’s not gonna be okay and I no longer know how to be strong and get through this, so yes I may have developed a substance abuse problem, I may have stopped feeling any kind of positivity towards living, but I’m silent because I feel like maybe I don’t get to talk about my issues, maybe the days go by and I’m gonna feel the same shit and no one will understand it but me.

Because at the end of the day, after every seizure, emotional breakdown, the low to my high, I’m awake staring at the ceiling and nothing makes sense, but my pain.

Take me back.

It feels like your heart just sank, shivers run up your body, you feel a rush of tears, you hear your heart race, your palms sweat, you hear a buzz in your head like you’re blank. That’s when you know, your heart just broke.

As a child you look at the world in bright colours, you see the good in every situation and the only time you ever cried was because you scraped your knee or because you wanted your mom and dad. Little did we know the harsh reality that comes with age, I see more black and blue, I cry even more than I should, I want to cry for my mom and dad but not because I miss them.

The truth is, we always wanna believe that things get better with time but sometimes more damage takes place in time, I wanna wake up one day and hear birds chirping and admire the blue skies, I wanna wake up one day and know my parents still love each other, but that’s a night sleep away, there’s no birds but loud screams and devious whispers, my skies are filled with black clouds and I’m scared to wake up in a house where a broken family now lives.

I’m afraid to be alone .

No I’m not scared of the dark or of ghost, I fear myself and what I haven’t yet fought, I’m alone which means war, war with the thoughts I’m afraid to become reality, thoughts that eat away all my happiness like death eaters, thoughts that remind me of my every failure.

You can hide from your saddest thoughts but they always come back to consume you, you’d do everything to avoid the reality it wants you to believe, you’d even try ignoring it to pretend you didn’t see this pattern before but deep down, you did. It may have been years ago but you’re never fully ready for that trainsmash.

I’m afraid to be alone because my thoughts may consume me, they’ll show me the bitter end and all my fears magnified, I’m scared to be alone because that gives me time to analyses what I’m given, I’ll destroy myself before reality decides to destroy me.

We need to change

We wait everyday for new cases, news stories that break your heart and make you want to be religious even if you haven’t pray in years, where racism doesn’t end and women are being beaten to death, where children are being murdered all for the purpose of sacrificing a child for good health or prevention from a virus.

What’s wrong with the world? Why do we go against each other when we all should be helping each other, why do we do more wrong when we’re all in panic and should be doing more good? Why is a pandemic a joke and why are statistics just numbers when they should be known as people’s lives, loved ones, family and friends?

Why are women bleeding from their eyes and nose when they should be taking care of their family? Why are children being thrown into fields when they should have been protected by the people who murdered them? Why are police killing people who aren’t fighting back?

This pandemic is an eye opener, the earth heals when humans stay home, animals are safer and happier when we don’t interfere with them, people are bad, people can be in experiencing the most difficult time of their lives and they still won’t have a good heart,

Maybe you should try.

But the strange part is when the depression kicks in and you just wanna be alone, that’s when you really need someone, that’s when you really needed someone to make you feel like your life matters, make you feel like your presence is needed, when the walls are closing in, when you’re contemplating suicide, you needed someone but you told yourself, no one wanted to be in your life so no one bothered you, they let you stay “angry” they wanted to give you your space and let you introvert. When deep down they could have been there and made you feel loved, they could have included you and made you feel wanted, they could have just looked pass everything you’re going through and been there, the problem is everyone including yourself see and know the depression but never reach out to each other, you don’t ask for help and they don’t offer help.

One day, one hour, one life ruined.

They say it’s what we wear, it’s how we speak or how we ask for the wrong attention, they say it’s usually by strangers or people with psychological issues. They say we asked for it. They say you should have known better, they say how can you allow this to happen? They say you asked for it.

I was only 15, he promised me no harm, no hurt and no pain. He lured me in by telling me “we’re just going on a date, baby.” I trusted his words, after all we’ve been together for a year.

I was only 15 wearing my green check shirt and waiting for his car to fetch me, he arrives looking uninterested, untidy, unbothered, the drive was quiet and I should have known why.

He drives home and I ask “Why?”

“Come in and say hi to mom while I change.”

I believed him.

I enter and he latches the gate and door and I’m standing in an empty house, not even his mother was home.

He asked me about why I wouldn’t give him my virginity and I responded telling him that I’m too young and I’m not yet ready, I was 15 when he slapped me and called me a liar.

I was 15 when he pushed me on the couch and pulled off my clothes, the louder I screamed the harder he punched, I told him to stop, I said no, I cried as loud as I could, no one heard me.

I was 15 when he threw me on his bed, called me a bitch and never heard a word I said, I was too thin when he punched again, too weak to fight off the man who promised me no harm.

I shouted, I cried, I pushed him.. I tried.. I tried and I failed.. he got his way while I laid there losing every bit of happiness and sanity I’ve ever had.

I was 15 when I ran away once he finished.. I ran with blood between my thighs, swollen jaws and him crying and saying he made a mistake.

I was 15 when I was raped, I tried to escape, I screamed, I fought but I was too weak. But they tell us that we dress for it, we ask for it and it’s usually by someone we don’t know.

The lonely child.

I was a lonely child, the child who spoke to the birds that chirped, the child who listened to the wind that blew away the feeling of loneliness, the child who made friends with animals and things that wouldn’t talk back. I was a sad child, the child who had family but they hardly showed they cared, she flew her kites and made mud cakes, she grew up lonely, she grew up sad, she grew up not knowing things will always be this bad.