Am I using that properly? I mean to say, I’m not typical in any way and I always take everyone off guard. It’s uncomfortable for me but them too I’m sure. I just can’t be typical. I fight guilt everyday in every way inside my head when anything is said to me or my behavior is questioned. Every thought I have no matter what it relates to, I scrutinize in vivid detail.
I watch others, overhear conversations and wonder why I can’t exist in those ways. I wonder if they’re faking it to make it too. If at home they too fall apart or even the moment they get into their vehicles.
What place do us types have because I’m one of the lost whose lived way too much, more than possible? Will we ever find a place of peace in our minds? Will I always feel like a victim instead of a survivor? I’ve fought and fought through my life; mostly I’ve fought myself to keep alive from my thoughts with almost dying the last time. Other times I’ve fought people and have lost those battles creating my victim status. Sexual assault, rape and physical abuse are terrifying to experience and will ruin your trust in the human race. It takes many years to rebuild that feeling of trust but it takes only one moment, one mistake to happen, and you’re back to never forgetting how important trust is to you. Everything is questioned in your mind and you are back to the beginning. Relearning.
I have very few pleasant memories of my life as far back to the age I can remember. I’m not sure that wouldn’t even have made much of a difference. My brain chemistry plays a much larger part than my environment.
I mean how do I explain that I feel like I’m dying? It’s a real feeling I can’t escape anymore but it’s seen as overreacting. How do I get others to leave me alone when I want to die? Why is it considered a crime to kill myself? Where is my place in this world? I’m a tiny ant amongst giants. Only God hears me, knows my seriousness, my pain and believes my thoughts, actions, and words.
So maybe, just maybe my place is not in this world; maybe my place lies in what’s after death. I don’t fit into this place. No one knows the real me, I’m still discovering that myself really but if you put a color to me it would be black. I’m a void to everyone, to myself even and add blue for the tears.
Did I ever tell you how much I love the rain?
I feel like what the rain feels. However I’m a blank canvas for everyone to paint all over with what they want. And I let it happen.