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"For years I wanted to look as empty as I felt".

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Old 07-30-2016, 05:11 AM
sofia.benbahmed (Offline)
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Default "For years I wanted to look as empty as I felt".


For years I wanted to look as empty as I felt.
I purged myself of sins, or so I thought -
Betraying myself in the process.
Have you ever felt that way?
Do you know what it's like?
When your heart feels vacant and your body expired -
rotting like the food you retrieved from the trash to eat and throw up,
because you were starving, and out of money, and because it made sense to you at the time.
Looking back I recognize my delusions, but they are still enticing,
they still creep in the back of my mind and sometimes make their way to the forefront, and it is only with great effort that I resist becoming again a prisoner to my own thoughts and behaviors.
Life is here, life is now, life is tangible and elusive at once. In treatment they prepare you for life, and in the meanwhile, while you are busy preparing yourself, you forget that you're alive here and now, that this is your time, and that time spent will never be retrieved. I am here, these are my fingers typing on this keyboard, this is my heart beating in my chest, this is my blood flowing through my veins, these are my words - words, I conjure them, they come to me, sometimes unexpectedly, and sometimes they refuse to appear, frustrating me beyond belief. Maya Angelou said that "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you". This I have found to be true, this I lived for years. I spoke but I didn't tell, I held my secrets as spiders in my heart. Some people are afraid of spiders. I never was - in fact, I'm a fan of spiders, snakes, horror films and books...I feared instead what couldn't be seen or touched. "Feared", I say, as though it's now in the past. I fear what cannot be seen and touched.
In some of the most difficult moments of my life someone dear to me would sit down, speak to me in a soft voice, and hold my hand. She would squeeze my hand until I could squeeze back. When my best friend hugs me, she scratches my back and I giggle uncontrollably.
I thought I had gone beyond the pale, I thought that I was irretrievable. Now I question that. I still love horror movies, and snakes, and cats, and books. I love blankets and dresses and coffee and tea. I love words and stories and sunflowers...more than anything else, I love people. "The effect of one good hearted person is incalculable", wrote Oscar Arias.
Silence can be tricky. A person can speak but not tell, make noise, and move, but be still and frozen inside.
I am beginning to create a voice for myself, one I'm not sure I ever had. I am growing, I think - it's hard to ever be sure, when you've been through the ringer like I have. I know that many people who read this will understand.
I want to use words to express myself, instead of my body and violence against it. I want to live in line with what I believe instead of betraying myself and those I love, inadvertently. I want to find words for things I feel but can't explain. People say that sometimes there are no words - but that doesn't mean I can't try.

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