The bad days are OK


As I sit here writing this piece my heart is heavy.

Usually I can come up with what I want to write about in an instant. Not today. Today I knew I wanted to write but I couldn’t pinpoint what I wanted to write about. There are too many thoughts running around my head.
So, instead, I picked up a pen and wrote this piece.

I am sad. I am the kind of sad that makes breathing hard. Every breath I take is an effort. Every breath I take is working hard to push the sadness back down inside me. Every breath I take hurts. It physically hurts.

I am not sad about one thing in particular but about lots of things.

I am sad that my stepfather and those other men physically and sexually abused me for twenty years.

I am sad that they caused me internal injuries and that I had to be operated on and I am sad that I had to deal with that all on my own.

I am sad that my own mother neglected me and stood by while he abused me under her roof.

I am sad that her and the rest of the family to this day stand by him and support him.

I am sad that he has taken my whole family from me. That I cannot see my siblings grow and live their lives. That I cannot see my little nephews grow and that I fear they may forget me.

I am sad that I am having to go through a Police Investigation and prove that he hurt me. I am said that it has been 18 months since I reported him and there is still no end in sight.

I am sad that what my abusers all did to me has caused all my Mental Illnesses and that I literally have to fight every day to survive.

I am sad that the only way that I can survive right now is with the help of a therapist and lots of medication.

I am sad that every week I have to see a therapist and relive the trauma they caused because that is the only way I am going to accept and overcome what happened.

I am sad that they have made me too damn scared to cry that I instead take a blade to my skin.

I am sad that I have good things in my life but that on bad days I just cannot see them.

I am sad that sleep is no longer sleep but is actually an escape from this hell that I am living in.

I am so sad that even tears won’t fall. Some days I feel nothing. It is like the world has ended. I don’t cry. I don’t see. I don’t hear. I just sit here while a little more of my heart dies.

Everyone sees my smile but if they looked close enough they would see it in my eyes. They would see that I am breaking inside.

When I tell people I am sad they tell me to focus on the good in my life. To focus on the positive. They just don’t understand that some days are just bad days.

I have tried to fight the sadness, the low days, always feeling ashamed of my low days, fearing judgement from others. Sometimes it is easier to pretend you don’t care than to admit the sadness is killing you. But I am tired of fighting.

Grief is heavy and my heart is saying enough is enough. It doesn’t want to fight right now. I am tired of fighting. I fight every single day.

I am just tired you know. I want to stop trying and not care for a few days.

I am sad. I am really, really sad.

I have lived through more hell in my lifetime than many people can even try to imagine.

So you know what…..with everything I am going through, the bad days and sad days are OK.

Thanks for listening
** Image courtesy of Google Images **

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