"There is no one who does not carry scars on the heart. If there were someone in the world like that, it would be a shallow soul" - Yu-Yu-Hakisho
It seems only right to start things with some stupid cliche' saying from an anime that has been off air for more years than I care to remember for the sake of my own pride. As over used as the meaning might be, it's still true. Everyone has scars, baggage, issues, what ever it is that you want to call it. And in some cases, it's more than even they realize.
It's turning out that way for me.
And when you're already a procrastinating, easily distracted, still in the closet, barely-past-teenager, trying to fight depression every morning you get out of bed - being smacked face without warning with bits of past and baggage that you tried to shove down your own proverbial mind throat... it just serves to screw you into the ground.
It's as fun as it sounds, let me promise that.
To start with, I have old memories of abuse coming back to surface - and these aren't the cute little hate crimes that I remembered already, like the other kids pushing me into nails or slamming my fingers in doors, or even tripping me into a wall. Oh no, this is the kind of twisted shit that actually deserves to be blocked out, and it's bringing up that whole "have to fight to get out of bed and even pretend your a human being worth functioning" thing every morning. And I know it's just the beginning - which is terrifying. If the fact that my father sprained my arm and fucked up a joint along with streaking bruises over my child-smooth skin because I didn't use my inside voice for a second is the easy stuff, the rest that my mind is still trying to hide should be making me shake in my boots.
There is also the tole it's taking on my classes. I can't blame it all on the depression- I know that. I am a lazy ass. But, I do love so many of the classes, and the people who do believe in me. So knowing that I'm failing because i missed too many days in most of my college courses is a punch to the gut. But, it just... it fucking hurts to even open my eyes when morning comes around. I'm hoping that i still might be able to salvage at least some credit before midterms and make up the rest of the year by being amazing, but I already know there is no way to get the grades I know I should be getting, which just pisses me off further. And the knowing that others are going to be just as disappointed... that's the part that makes me rage to the point of tears.
It would probably be logical to back away from this shit, right? To try to avoid unlocking anything new to prevent myself from entirely fucking myself over in every other aspect of my life. But, clearly I am a masochist. Because the way that I've been digging up these old wounds, and pouring salt, and maybe a few spoon fulls of hot coal into them- writing about it - I'm still doing. Some how, when I start writing I just zone out, the same way I do when I draw, but... it's deeper. And when I come back, after a few moments, or a few hours - I've brought this / something back with me. And some of the time that I was missing in my life ( about five years actually ) is suddenly filled in. The scars have a reason and the fears have a back story. And I have this hope, after the shaking fades, that by writing with these things, by reading and sharing and showing them, I'll be able to move past them. Or, at least, conquer them. I know better than to think inner demons are something you can just overcome in one swipe, they are something you have to face everyday, again, and again, until you've faced everything there ever was to face. And by that time, there will be nothing left of you either.
I'm not sure where this is going to go, or why I even started writing this.
I guess, I dont' really care either. Because, at the end of the day. . .
I still can't see a way out of it all.
