Nothing is more painful than losing yourself.
I have lost myself so many times. Fallen into the darkness of depression, the pit of despair. No hope was visible, there was no light. I saw nothing but blackness. The memories of abuse filled my mind. My abusers voices rang through my head, convincing me I was worthless, I was nothing. I was nobody.
Lost in a place of suicidal thoughts and self-hatred, self-harm took over. It was my only release, my only feeling. My only way of staying alive. So broken, unsure if I would survive being lost yet again. Unsure how to find myself once more. How to bring myself back from the edge.
Pain filled my heart and pierced my soul. A pain so intense that thoughts of death seemed easier, quieter, peaceful. With tears in my eyes I would stare at myself in the mirror, begging myself to hold on. Pleading with myself to find a glimmer of hope from somewhere. I was so broken, I didn’t know where to start. I was lost once more.
Yet now I see that it was not me who was lost. It was the girl they wanted me to be. The girl they created. A girl full of self-doubt and fear and shame. One that seemed so strong on the outside yet in reality so fragile she could break at any moment. A girl so programmed into self-hatred. So conditioned, she believed she was not worthy of love or kindness. Lost in the darkness is where she belonged, unworthy of living in the light. For she believed that she did not deserve love, or hope or light.
The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone who doesn’t deserve it. I loved them so much that I became the girl they wanted. This lost girl was their creation. The self that existed in childhood. She was not me. She was the girl they wanted me to be. Silent, with no voice, I was just their echo. Behaving as they wanted. Saying what they wanted. So broken, so damaged. I believed this girl was who I am.
I was a character in their story. Never good enough. Never living up to their expectations. Failing and being punished. Believing their abuse was love. I was lost in a place called nowhere and yet I didn’t know I was truly lost because I didn’t know who I really was.
For years I lived in nowhere. Never belonging, never worthy. Each new wound becoming a scar. Each new scar a battle lost, another piece of innocence taken. Falling deeper and deeper into darkness, the blackness consumed me and began tearing me to pieces. I was so damaged, so unsure if I would ever be able to piece myself together.
I had become so completely lost that being strong became the only choice I had. As I grew, I was fighting hard to stay afloat and find myself. Wanting to break free from my abusers but too afraid. I was stuck between who I was, who I wanted to be and who they had created.
Sometimes, the middle of nowhere is where we truly find ourselves. Some steps we need to take alone to figure out who we truly are. Nowhere is where I started to find myself. Something suddenly began to change. Nowhere gradually started to become somewhere.
I don’t want to be a character in their story anymore. Their story is full of pain and sadness. A tale of darkness and nothingness. A story of loneliness and submissiveness. A story of a girl so broken, so unsure she could survive.
Slowly I have begun to peel off the years of conditioning. I am starting to tear away the layers of myself that they created in childhood. It is not easy and I still struggle every day but I am learning to love myself. I am beginning to take care of myself. I am beginning to finally believe that I am worthy of love and support. I am learning to trust myself and to believe in the person I am becoming.
I want to write my own story and become the girl I long to be. I want to break free from the chains of my past. No longer lonely or afraid. No longer living in darkness but finally living in light. I want to be the girl who has a voice, who is no longer just their echo.
I want to be the girl who speaks for others and becomes their voice when they cannot use their own. I want to be the person I needed when I was younger, the voice I never had. I want to write freely and draw creatively and tell my story and my truth. I want to use my scars, my pain, to raise awareness and change laws. I want to save lives.
This journey is the hardest of my life. It is scary and it makes me vulnerable. I am having to find strength I never knew I had but slowly I am changing. I am changing from the girl they created, the girl they still want me to be, into the girl I want to become. I may get lost again but if I do, I know I will be able to find my way back somehow. I have to. Not just for me or my loved ones, but for the children and victims and survivors who need my voice. I will find my way back.
Slowly I am beginning to find myself. Slowly I am creating myself.
I am not there yet. I have many more wounds to battle and many more scars to overcome but slowly, I am beginning to take back my voice and write my own story.
I found myself living in the wrong story. That was not where I belong. If you ever find yourself in the wrong story….leave.
For finding our own path, creating our own story, is the only real way that we truly find ourselves.
Thanks for reading
** Image is my own **