hiddensecrets512

[hiddensecrets512]

Afraid to Feel

“Why do you hurt yourself?” I stare at my reflection in the mirror. A figure so familiar yet foreign. I didn’t recognize this body anymore. Tainted by the hands of others starting at the age of 3. The trauma runs deep and only grows deeper as more take what they want.

I was only 4 when the cops interrogated me for the first time. Asking me what had happened while I sob, not understanding. The innocence ripped from me at such a young age by a family friend. A child shouldn’t have to explain to the police what she barely understands. I didn’t know what had happened. I still don’t. This is where the trauma begins. 

I was 14 the first time I fell in love. This was also the first time someone I truly trusted more than anybody hurt me in unforgivable ways. He made me believe he owned me, because that’s what true love is isn’t it? I couldn’t say no to anything he wanted out of the fear of what he would do. I never had a choice. Isn’t that fucked up? After that relationship ended, I couldn’t look at guys the same way. I was disgusted by them. It wouldn’t be until I was 18 and fell in love again where I would regain that trust.

I was 15 when I agreed to skip class to hang out with a guy. I never ended up getting to see him because he got arrested for raping dozens of women. I’m scared to imagine how that would’ve gone otherwise. 

I was 16 when I tried dating again. It had only been a week before he messaged me, drunk, to insult me and say some scary things. He broke up with me during that tirade. Later he told me he didn’t mean any of it because he was drunk. I tried to forgive him and make it work, I’m too broken to be alone. He didn’t want it to work. Now, after the fact, I’m too scared to think of what would’ve happened if I was there in person and words weren’t enough.

I was 17 the next time. I thought things would be different. He was different. Until we made it official. He wouldn’t stop pleading me for sex, even after I told him how uncomfortable it made me. We hung out once and it was a mistake. We were alone, and he started to make advances. He grabbed me but I ran away. If I wasn’t fast enough, who knows what would’ve happened.

I was 18 when I fell in love again. This time was supposed to be different. And it was until it wasn’t. He helped me love myself again, helped me regain the trust and love for men. So gentle, sweet and understanding. Then, he got fed up with all the behaviors he loved me for. I love you’s turned into I hate you’s. He would insult me over every aspect of my being. He claimed the body he fell in love with was one he now despised. Yet I stayed with him for another year. Because this was love wasn’t it? 

I was 20 when I learned that nobody can be trusted. Not even someone I would’ve considered my best friend. You stole another piece of my innocence, ripping my soul into more pieces. I’m convinced there isn’t any left. You handled my body in ways that cannot be forgiven. 

The reflection that stares back at me scares me. I see a broken, tattered soul, yet someone who is so strong that she still stands here in this world despite everything she’s been through. Forcing herself through more pain because that's all she’s ever known. One day, we will find peace and telling my story is only the beginning.

[hiddensecrets512]

Do they even notice? Maybe they just don't care because surely they had to have seen them? It would be impossible not to notice! Maybe they don't know what they are, but what other explanation is there for this? She lifted her arm out of the water and glanced at her wrist. Numerous faded red lines coated the space around her tattoo. She let her arm drop as she got lost in thoughts once again. Maybe they just don't know what to say. Saying anything is better than nothing right? Or maybe they think I'm doing this for other reasons. Wouldn't be surprised with how they were raised. I wonder what they think of me to begin with since I have vibrant colored hair, many piercings and tattoos all over my body. Do they actually enjoy my presence? She glanced over at him. He was distracted, shooting balls into the basket. He definitely didn't notice anything awry. Why would he?

Later that night, she was alone again. She picked up her tool and examined it, imagining what more she could do with it. She took off the cover, revealing the blade and stared at it, while twirling it around in her hands. She turned her left arm over, exposing her already damaged wrist, wondering where to add more. She slowly moved the blade closer until it was hovering just above her skin. She pushed down, but didn't move. She was stalling. Anxiety flooded her body. She didn't want this to hurt, but she wanted more. She wanted the scars, she wanted to bleed, she wanted the hurt to be noticeable to others. This was the only way. Too scared to talk about it, but too scared to reveal what she had done. Wearing long sleeves on these boiling hot summer days was exhausting, but they couldn't stay hidden forever. She just hoped that maybe after all this, someone would tell her they cared. Someone she cared about too. She took a deep breath and with one sharp movement, it was done. She stared at her work for a moment observing the blood beading up across the line she made. Passing the initial anxiety gave her the courage to do another, and another, and another...

"Just one more," she told herself. "I couldn't let them see too many." She had paused and thought to herself for a moment. "But then again, it's not like anything has actually changed."

After she was satisfied with her handiwork, she cleaned herself up. Washed up the wounds, bandaged them, and laid down in bed for the night. "Maybe someone, somewhere will hear my pain and understand."

[hiddensecrets512]

Today I saw one of my friends share a post online about someone committing suicide. It was a friend of theirs. The post was long and detailed and they went on to say how thankful they were for the people in their lives who reached out and offered help, but that they couldn't go on like this anymore. They lost the battle and had finally found peace. There were hundreds of comments on the post saying how much they valued that person and how much they loved them, how they thought they were an amazing soul and so on. Why is that when people share those things? Why not now? You never really know what will happen tomorrow, after all.

Any one of us could have a fatal accident happen. But that's not the part I care about. What I'm bothered by is how people don't, or even won't, openly share those stories and care now. Why must it wait for the funeral for those things to be heard? It would do a lot of good now for quite a few of us if you told us you cared and thought about us.

I just want to feel loved and not have it happen when I'm six feet under.

[hiddensecrets512]

So alone...no one to talk with and share my life with..

[hiddensecrets512]

I need a therapist

[hiddensecrets512]

Well, here's what's gonna happen. One day you're gonna wake up, eat your breakfast, brush your teeth, go about your business. And sooner or later, you're gonna realize you haven't thought about it. None of it. And that's the moment you realize you can forget. When you know that's possible, it all gets easier.

[hiddensecrets512]

You thought I was telling your story last time, so why not tell the story as it really happened. You were in an open relationship and told me that it would be okay that you were seeing me. But you never told your fiance about the nudes, about the kissing, about none of it. But what does it matter. What matters is how you violated me on the night of February 11th 2023. 

You always seemed so caring, so gentlemen like. You paused to ask me if you could keep going. I hesitated to gather my voice. I felt uncomfortable with what you were doing and wanted it to stop. I told you how hard it was for me to set boundaries because so many people had ignored them. I uttered the word I hated saying so much...”no.” And what did you do? You. Kept. Going. My heart and mind started racing. Maybe you didn’t hear me? We had both drank so maybe that had something to do with it? I shakily moved my hands to try and stop you but you ignored that too. So I shut down. I didn’t let it happen, you made it happen. You got what you wanted all along.. me.

This is our story. This is what happened that night. 

[hiddensecrets512]

You took something away from me. Another piece of my childhood innocence ripped away. I told you no, but you hissed back at me while venturing into places not meant for you. And I froze...

Waiting...

Waiting for it to stop...

Waiting so that I could get my voice back only to be told I let it happen, that I didn’t fight back enough. A simple “no” isn’t a strong enough shield anymore.

Why me? Why you? Why did it have to be you? I trusted you. I told you things I never shared with anybody else.. and this is how you repay me? 

I’m done waiting. I’ve waited long enough only to have my voice ripped away from me once again by more people I trusted. I have my voice back and I will tell everybody how you betrayed me, whether they believe me or not. My story is valid. My story is valid. 

My

Story

Is

Valid

[hiddensecrets512]

I want the happy sunshine cozyness of childhood back

[hiddensecrets512]

12/12/2016

Nobody ever worries about how our actions now affect the future but will worry so much about how our actions in the past affected the now. I never knew that this date would be so hard for me 6 years later. I feel like it shouldn’t even have any meaning to me anymore. Why do I have to suffer? I have no energy to try anymore.

[hiddensecrets512]

I'm tired of feeling the way that I do. I don't even know how i feel but it isn't great. I'm not exactly sad, or happy. I'm just numb. I can't be sad, but I can laugh and smile, but am I feeling happy or is my body just merely reacting to stimuli? What is really going on? Who am I?

[hiddensecrets512]

I plead the fifth

[hiddensecrets512]

In a room full of people, yet I feel so alone. A group I am a part of, yet I don't belong. Playing a game together, I am an audience member.

My heart is empty, yet my life is full. I am alone, yet I have people who care. I may be anxious, but temporarily.

I want to leave, to be alone, but I am trapped in this forsaken home.

I am traumatized. I am broken. I am hurt. I am scared. I am fearful. I am worried. I am anxious. I am paranoid.

What if it doesn't go well? What if I do something stupid? What if I hurt others by mistake? What if..what if..what if..

[hiddensecrets512]

I will never be happy

That is my fundamental flaw. I can have everything I could ever want, I could be the richest person alive, even if I truly did have it all, I still would never be happy. I can never be satisfied with what I have. Even if I had it all. Why try if no matter how hard I strive for greatness I end up falling to mediocrity? 

[hiddensecrets512]

My name is *redacted* and I am 20 years old. I am a sophomore in college. What else is there to know about me? How do I describe myself when I don’t even know who I am. When who I am changes based on my random mood swings and things of the like. Sure right now I might like this color, or this game might be my favorite but one day it may not be. I will only be 20 for a year. I will only be a sophomore for a year. Hell, I even want to legally change my name when I get that opportunity. i am really not.. anybody

[hiddensecrets512]

It’s Over

8/14/2019 - 10/7/2022

We tried. We failed. I love you and I always will. I know you did love me too at one point. I don’t know if it would have hurt more or less if you never did. 

You taught me so much and helped me grow. I can’t thank you enough. I only wish that we could have parted on better terms. I wish that I could have been the person that you needed me to be. But I am broken and I need to heal. It’s selfish to make you wait. I need to mature. I need to heal and it can’t be with you. I’m sorry for wasting your time. But thank you for teaching me the things I needed to learn. 

You will always hold a special place in my heart. I will always welcome you with open arms. I will always be here if you ever need me.

[hiddensecrets512]

Poem

Everything gets overglorified

Self harming may look cool, the scars be sick

The red blood flowing down your wrist

But ultimately it’s just painful

So very painful

.

No one talks about

How many days later

The cuts burn and ache

Any fabric that touches them

That catches on the healing scars

Will feel like white hot fire

Oh so painful

So very painful

.

What about looking for a fun time with drugs

Alcohol burns the throat

It burns the pain away

Weed burns the lungs

And turns you oh so numb

So very numb to everything

Shrooms take me away

Take me away to a world of many colors

Puts me in a different place

A better place

.

But nobody talks about the after affects

The hangovers, the pain, the nausea, the suffering

The writhing in bed praying to a God you don’t believe in just so the pain will stop

Spending the night with the toilet seat as your pillow

Dabbing red hot wounds with a cold wash cloth wincing in pain

What do you know

What do you know about the pain I’m in

.

This is the life cycle of an unhealthy life

Masking the pain with everything overglorified

Just hoping that one day the wounds heal and never come backk

One day I’ll put down the bottle and never look back

One day I’ll put down the blade and never look back

One day I’ll put down the bong and never look back

I won’t ever look back

I can’t ever look back

If im dead