Broken

Broken. That one word summed up her whole life. She doesn’t know how she got here.. or maybe she does but just failed to see exactly what was happening when it was. Her life slowly crumbling as a result of her own actions; actions she saw as harmless.. until they showed back up with a vengeance. “I was young” she claims, hoping that maybe someone will understand that she was just a naïve teen, but no one ever seemed to.. they judged her, harshly. Judgement that steamed from the guilt of their own faults that they are too scared to speak about, so they rather judge hers.. it made them feel better about their own lives to look at someone else’s failures instead of their own. She acted as if it didn’t hurt, as if she didn’t cry when nobody was around, like her eyes didn’t burn from the constant tears flowing like rivers. She acted like she was okay, but she was drowning. Some of the stories were true, but most weren’t; that’s what hurt her the most. See she knew she made terrible mistakes but she also knew most of what people said was made up. They were completely wrong and she hated having to defend herself from constant lies, she wanted to tell them the real things she did. The truth, but for what? To give them more ammunition? I mean its not like telling them the real mistakes she made would help her at this point, they would still spread the lies and now be able to add her true past. She couldn’t let that happen. Things were already bad enough and she wouldn’t be able to handle anymore. So she listened. Listened to the slandering words cutting through her ears, more painful than a knife could ever feel she thought. Words cutting so deep she could feel her heart crying, that pain, the pain that comes from true hurt. Something she wouldn’t wish on anyone, but she wishes they would see.. see how they hurt her.. how tearing her down won’t make their lives better but rather her mind and heart worse. She needs help but at the same time she doesn’t want it.. she feels like she deserves this treatment, that’s something he had embedded into her mind. He convinced her she deserved to be treated like less of a person so she allowed it, she listened.. took it all in and held on to it with everything she had, like holding onto a branch on the edge of a cliff, not being able to let go.. the words cut too deep. Feeling worse about herself with every passing day, praying God would save her.. she felt alone, but she wasn’t. Her daughter was there witnessing it all, wondering why mommy won’t stop crying. “I love you much mama” she said, hoping to put a smile on her mama’s face.. so tired of seeing her hurt but too small to understand. Sometimes thinking she did something wrong so apologizing, which made mom feel worse. How could she be a good mom when she’s constantly told she’s a terrible person..? She was starting to give up. Wanting so badly to just say “fuck it” and be the shitty person they claimed she was.. but how would that benefit her? She would only end up hurting herself and proving them right would give them satisfaction, while leaving her empty. At this point, she’s lost. She can’t seem to figure out which way is up, and it makes it even harder to since her head is looking down in shame. She thought everyone made mistakes but couldn’t understand why only hers mattered.. why me? She thought, self pity filling her everyday life. She tried though, tried to get up and get “pretty”.. acting as if she was okay and thinking if she fixed the outside, the inside would somehow feel better. It worked sometimes, but she was critiqued for that too. “You look like a fucking whore!” he exclaimed, but she had thought she looked beautiful.. no longer wanting to get dressed.. feeling a fear of disappointing him but when she didn’t dress up he judged her for that too; claiming she looked like a hobo.. she couldn’t win. Confusion overpowered her. When will things get better? What would she have to do? She couldn’t change her past or the ugly things people say, to and about her, so what does she do at this point? She pondered death a few times, he told her he wished she would kill herself as well.. the man she loved with all her heart wished she was no longer alive. Worthless she felt indeed but killing herself would just end her story at that bad chapter in her life and she didn’t want that to be the case. She wanted to turn the book of her life around rather than give up midway. She will get through this she thought.. but picking up the pieces would be a process; not an easy one either. She would get cut from all the shards, slashing her heart trying to put them back together. She had to be careful.. but it had to be done. She could no longer just be broken. She had to get up and fight, even if she had no strength, she had to at least swing. Not trying would just secure her loss and she couldn’t have that. Broken summed up her life until today, resilience would now take its place. Goodbye broken, you’re not welcome here anymore.