There are moments where you can literally feel the real you trying to bust through your outer layer.
That layer that is what everyone sees.
The layer that used to be so outgoing, carefree and fun.
The outside that now shows a face that seems unhappy.
A face afraid to smile or laugh because it might not be the right time for it.
It almost hurts.
You can feel the inside of you desperate to break free. Desperate to dance. Desperate to chant or cheer or yell or laugh so hard you might just pee your pants. Almost an ache inside that longs to be set free.
You used to not care. Used to dance because it was fun; not because you were hoping someone saw you and thought you were great, but because it was fun and exhilarating and you just genuinely loved to feel good. You didn’t care who watched, who saw. You just did it. You laughed and yelled and goofed off and it didn’t matter who saw you with that crazy look on your face or who heard that snort bust out of you in your fit of fun. It just didn’t matter because you loved life. You enjoyed life. You know that after a few drinks you talked loud, but it didn’t matter… You had fun and who was getting hurt? You surrounded yourself with people who were just as loud and who smiled all the way through to their soul when they saw you smile. Because they loved you. They loved being with you. They loved watching you smile, because they loved that you were so happy.
“We were worried about you for a little while S”
“I watched a movie that reminded me of him, it makes me cry just to remember how things were”
When did it get so out of control? When did I allow it to get so bad that those are the things I hear now?
I have to let those words fill my mind and my heart.
We don’t realize the effects of someones emotional and mental abuse for years. I personally haven’t even been able to call it what it was.
“Why didn’t you tell someone?”
Why? Good question.
The answer? Because you don’t even know it’s happening until it’s happened.
You can literally feel the real you trying to escape.
Clawing at you from the inside.
Begging you, desperately crying out for you to just be you!
Just throw your head back and crack the fuck up.
You might look like a fool. That is true. But no one is paying that much attention really. The people with you want you to have fun. They want you to enjoy yourself. They want you to be happy, to laugh so hard you cry and yes, even pee yourself a little. They love you. These people are good people. People that won’t make you feel bad about yourself. They may tell you tomorrow that you’re crazy, but they will say it while they’re laughing so hard about the night that they let a little snort out too…
At some point or another we have all heard it. We have all been told to be a little quieter or that we need to calm down a little. The problem is when we hear that with every move we make. Every little quirk we have that makes us who we are. When we hear it so often that we shut down. That’s a problem. It’s a problem because we retreat; we become a statue, a shell of a person. Someone that is so afraid to upset or embarrass someone else when all we did was to be ourselves. Instead of realizing right then that it’s time to move on like we should, we just comply. We just want them to be so happy that we take a backseat, corner spot. Their insecurities about life and about their own reflection traumatized us. It paralyzes us to the point that after so much time has gone on, we no longer even recognize ourselves.
It sucks. It sucks to know that someone thinks you aren’t enjoying yourself when you really are. It sucks to sit somewhere and feel like a prisoner in your own body. It sucks even more to know that someone who is gone still has so much power over you.
Some days it feels impossible. It feels like you won’t ever heal completely. It feels like progress is made but then you fall back into old habits. Worrying that you will embarrass someone or annoy someone.
You know what is even worse though?
Living life with regrets. Living life scared. Scared to dance or laugh until you cry. I want to be me again, I want to have fun and to let loose and to enjoy myself to the fullest.
I will probably always get angry and cry a little when I think about the pieces of myself that were taken from me; I’m allowed to do that. I won’t let it consume me any longer though. I love who I used to be and I want her to bust through again. Screw him and his controlling ass. No one likes him and there’s a reason for that. He doesn’t control us anymore. If I see him out sometime I will chant and scream and yell and dance all over his ass.