I’ve always felt I didn’t belong to anyone or anything. I was an outcast, even the outcasts thought I was strange I think.
I didn’t have friends until high school. Jr. High was very very long for me, until I met Penny right before 9th grade. Before Penny- I talked to, looked at noone all day. On weekends when friends did things, I went to my nana and paps house.
Lonliness is really the theme of those years, that and outcast. I drank. Vodka in drink containers.
Who does belong?? I used to think that I just had to say or do or wear the right thing, then suddenly I would belong. Now that wasn’t ever going to happen. THere is no right thing, no right word.
I am different I am a we, I suffered abuse bad enough to cause splits in my mind. And yes abuse is subjective….. Still it was bad enough for me. That makes my life different than all others. I was different, thus how I felt. I got used to it I guess.
Maybe I even loved that being different for awhile. I was abused- i’m different than you, special.
But now?? I will always be abused, No I will always carry that with me, But it won’t be a visible part of me, won’t be what all see immediately. What then I won’der will they see. What would I want them to see? I have no idea. It’s soemthjing Im suppoosed to journal/think on for therapy. Also am to dialogue with Cheyenne. Hopefully the other thing, will come back to me.
I feel like i’ve lost my identity as the survivor/victim/healing person
and it’s good to loose that identity. It’s good to not need to wear it ALL THE TIME anymore. I keep it handy as I know I am not done with it totally.
Now Though I feel naked, raw to the world, exposed in every way. With no idea what to do or where to turn.
I have this life, hubby, child, pets. I am wife, mom, not for me though. Titles I take on for the benefit of others. What about me??? What am i for me? I am a reader and a cross-stitcher, an exerciser. Those aren’t me though are they?? Just things I like. So then what and where is me????
I don’t know if I have a porpose. Maybe not.