not enough

surviving is not enough.
not really.
what is that bullshit line of the century, ‘that which does not kill you shall make you stronger..’
really? Sound like nothing but a load of crap to me because if it were true I would be miss fucking universe or something but instead I am a nobody from nowhere hiding in the dark.

that is how life is. or should I say, that is how my life is. you can feel it really. when you are born into the pit of hell and you have to fight every day for your soul and your sanity and someway you manage to survive, with a few missing parts and a few broken pieces, plaster and putty, hiding the empty holes..
hiding..
but that was not enough....

no....
not nearly enough, for your childhood is just the beginning.
you must move on, continue forward
you must apply what you learned in the real world. you must go outside, kill the demons , make a comfortable place in the world.
u go girl.
the little family home is not big enough.
money money money money.
i’ve done all I can do at home, now I must learn how to make money.
no problemo...


I remember how I felt when my father died in 1995. I had been waiting for years, thinking and believing that when it happened, when he finally died, that I would be free. that this tremendous burden would be lifted off my soul and I would be free to live my life with carefree abandonment. happy ever after were just lies and bullshit. Needless to say it didn’t work out like I had visualized it. Instead of my burdens vanishing into nothingness, my mind was flooded with horrible memories and flashbacks.
i knew my kinks and my quirks. I knew why I carefully chose to do almost everything that I did. I knew why I reacted and responded to certain thing in certain ways. I knew most of my triggers.
but that was not enough....
no...

where was the freedom? where was my power to overcome? it never failed me when I was a small child and the events were actually happening. so why were the memories so disabling? it was all in my head. why couldn’t I just blink and change the thoughts floating around inside my brain. why couldn’t I just not think about something I didn’t want to think about? For years I use books, cable tv, movies, music, video games, and the computer as my mind altering drugs.
But that was not enough…
no...

Avoiding unresolved issues only lengthens the time it takes to heal. I was trying to fix my adult problems by using my old childhood tools. perhaps because i never allowed myself to feel the reality of the moment the first time around it caused the flashbacks to become a wicked bitch-slap in the face.

happiness is a state of mind. scars are a statement of reality. I am strong. I know I have the ability to survive. Yet from the moment I was born I have been waiting to die. To leave and move on, go back to where I came from, to that better place in the sky, that heavenly place my mother told me stories about...

the truth is i’ve never been afraid to die, i'm afraid to live.

But that is not enough….
no....

I want more than the happy ending.
I want my life,
my whole life,
and nothing but my life
so help me God