To This Day.
To this day. Someone linked me to this amazing poem by Shane Koyczan and I’m now sharing it with you. Because I can. Watch it all the way through please.
To this day, I mourn the years I lost to an emotionally abusive marriage, because I didn’t believe I deserved better.
To this day I remember watching the bullies at my school jumping up and down on the pencil case I painted because I had to run to my locker to get something, and wondering why they would do something like that, and why nobody stopped them.
To this day the flush of red whenever I feel that someone is belittling or humiliating me reminds me of the tablets I used to overdose on (just a little bit) so that I could get out of school because it was becoming overwhelming and it was either organise a day off or seriously consider how I was going to kill myself.
To this day I look at my husband with mistrust when he goes away for work because like my father when I was 7, I expect him to say I’ll be back and then just not come back. Ever.
To this day I laugh on the inside at people who tell me I’m motivating or amazing or powerful, because I know, deep down, on the inside, they’re wrong.
To this day I expect the world to wake up and realise I’m a fraud. Because for every single one of the impressionable years of my life and after I was told I was worthless or different or stupid, and you don’t grow up with something like that without it leaving scars.