We all have a breaking point and sometimes I wonder if I don't teeter on the edge of that point all the time. I'm starting to fear my decisions the last couple years have been a form of underlying self-destruction - instead of cutting to see if I bleed, I make life choices that leave me constantly bleeding.
Though I'm surrounded by people who claim to love me, I am lonely. I don't feel loved. I feel neglected, unwanted, abused, used, and preyed upon. So, why are they here? Because they need me. Once their need is met, I know deep in my heart they will leave me - just as they have before and will again .This I am assured.
So, why don't I just walk away? Because, It's not for them, but for that little girl inside that was neglected, forgotten, abused and needing someone to care, someone to hear me silently screaming behind a friendly smile, praying and begging for someone to save me. No one saved me. I had to save myself. I never want anyone else to ever feel like no one cares and no one will help where and when it's needed. It's why I have given so much of my life taking care of other people, feeding the hungry, helping the sick, giving what I can. I don't want to be the pious priest blinded to the wounded. I want to be the Samaritan who stops.
But being the Samaritan isn't easy and I find quite painful. The moral stories always have a good ending, much like a Hallmark, Disney or Lifetime movie. But real life isn't like that. There is rarely a good outcome for the sacrifices we make for others. It cuts. It hurts. It is unappreciated. It is lonely, very, very lonely.
It's like lying next to the man you're madly in love with, your soul mate, your balance, your heart, and have them not want or love you back, not want to touch you, not want to hold you, not want to lift you up, encourage you, or let you know they want, respect, love and desire you. That's cruelty to the deepest cut. Who needs real blades when emotional ones are amply available?
I'm a fool. I believe in fairy-tale love. I give the kind of love and devotion I want to receive. I give respect like I want to be respected. I hope for the best. I see with eyes of good potential, but judged for the smallest of weaknesses and failures.
I'm sick. Im hurting and I don't really think anyone cares. That little girl deep inside is screaming again. I hear her, but I don't know how to save her because I'm the one hurting her. I think I'm past my breaking point and I'm free-falling. It's no one else's fault, but mine.
I don't want to learn this lesson. I've prayed for help, but I feel those prayers are silenced. The cost is my heart. I feel it growing harder and colder every day and I keep waiting for the warrior in me to rise up and defend her, but I don't. I'm too broken to fight back. I've gone too long stressed out. I'm so sick of crying. I'm tired of trying. My hope is all used. My faith is exhausted. So I lay next to my love and slowly die inside.
--.T. L. Gray
