Sometimes it just hits me as to how much damage has been done to me.
We did an exercise in class, where there was a play in 3 scenes:
1) Was being in a waiting room and designing it as we pleased. There was a voice that said we’d be there for a long time.
2) Others were around with angry faces, ended up in a courtroom with a judge, and then the walls started closing in on us, and the others and the judge left. No voice regardless of questions ask or help being called.
3) We were in a coffin, and the voice was in us. He said we could treat it as a confession, and this is what I wrote:
“I’m sorry. I was scared. It was because I didn’t know what to do so I just added things and I got carried away. I put lazy stuff in their and I didn’t know what to do.”
“Regrets: Should have made it plain, unnoticeable like I wanted to in the first place. No one would have given it a second glance. No one should notice it. The guilt for being me, I should have stifled it. I feel very guilty, very dirty. I am a horrible person, for being born this way. I became this way. I feel guilt for being alive. I am guilty for being myself, as a child and now. And I don’t even know who that was anymore.”
Sometimes I forget how much damage has been done to myself.
Sometimes I forget that I still don’t completely hate society, family, the people that hurt me:
It’s myself that I hate so goddamn much. Every aspect every living cell in my body, every nerve fiber, every atom. I loathed it. I still have these grotesque images of me destroying it with any weapon I can find.
Ever since I was 5 or 6 I hated myself. I hid it from people because they hated it, or others hated it so that meant that they would hate it too. And then through that, I grew to hate it too.
I never really knew how I became depressed and this way, but this exercise opened my eyes in that it was me. I stifled every last part of me until there was nothing left but emptiness, but depression. Nothing but that stark white waiting room. I was and still am ashamed of me. And anytime I let it show, anytime I let it loose and run wild, I beat myself up for it, and I am on constant alert for it.
And I am so sorry you have to see this. I am so sorry you have to see all of this. I know that I wasn’t always like this, and that I used to be positive and used to be able to help people, but right now I can barely help myself.
And I am just so sorry.