Two more weeks

 I'm leaving the place I grew up in behind, soon. Almost 2000 miles of driving. Finally something will change. And I'm not scared. 

To forgive is to betray the person you were

 I met an old neighbor again today. Every time they say you should forgive people and that people are complicated. Family is important. 

I was hurt. I was hurt so deeply that it shaped me into what I am today. Something broken and bright,  dark and hopeful. I'm not right. Something is wrong with me, it hasn't changed since I was little. Awareness doesn't stop me from being swept away by the sudden waves of anxiety or anger. Sometimes I feel powerless and out of control. It was all my fault. I'm a problem. 

But forgiveness is not something I will ever strive for. I want to protect the person I was,  the kid who felt so broken and horrible that she was nothing but alone and isolated. The kid whose chest ached with such agony that she wanted nothing more than to disappear. That she desired to be swept away and forget everything no matter what it would cost. She would rather be saved by a monster if not a hero. 

The only one who can save you is yourself. Just how much has changed?

Forgiveness means forgetting the times I was alone. Crying over my mom's chair wishing she was there. Crying silently when everyone had someone there for them at their graduation except for me. Wishing my dad would care enough to even turn down his TV late in the night,  enough to care about my future and grades and sleep. To forget how he only cared about himself getting in trouble. How his anger meant fear. His anger could mean pain. 

Forgetting who he is; yelling and cursing horrible things at people while I watched and waited for him to just stop,  either committing violent acts of road rage or falling asleep behind the wheel while I was present, calling me bad and making promises things would get better. Saying life isn't fair. Life was never fair. 

I had nobody. 

I think something in me broke one day. Maybe it was my back bone. I tried to behave. I thought it would make things better if I was good. Because all i ever was was bad. I was told I was bad,  I ruined everything. He said he had 7 more years to get rid of me, he made me beg on my hands and knees when he picked up the phone saying he was calling child services to send me away. I snapped and behaved and did chores he wouldn't do like a good girl. Sometimes I wonder how much of myself is an act to be good, how much of me is forced,  adapted.

When they finally investigated because my aunts reported him he was possessive and angry. He threatened violence to my aunt saying he would shoot her. Saying cps couldn't take me away. He promised them he would make things better.  He lied.

He hurt me and twisted me for so long. He remained ignorant. 

I couldn't trust him. I can't trust anyone. People have proved to me that. They've proved my doubts about myself right. 

You see, forgiveness is not an option. Forgiveness is to forget the pain, the fear,  the isolation, the longing, the numbness, the grief. All while he sat back and only paid attention when it was convenient. To be a parent and show off his work on Facebook while doing nothing. I have been independent and self reliant for a long, long time. 

I've been told I'm resourceful and clever and I plan well. Is it just me or is it something I learned? 

I wish this could end. I wish I could be better. I wish things could be normal,  I wish they came easier.

 Why am I still thinking about this?

I woke up in tears

I had a weird dream. I think I had a year or less to live. I don't know why and I don'tknow what happened. But I woke up just barely and my eyes were wet. Unless that was a dream too. I can't tell anymore. I feel like I haven't been dreaming for a few months now but this was different. 

I think I've slowly been losing it. The paranoia. The hopelessness. I feel like people are looking at me. Watching me. Like they know what I am. Like I don't belong anywhere. 

I'm scared they'll notice me. 

I'm scared of the cops. 

I'm tired of doing this. I don't know what the point of any of this really is.  I want myself back. I want to feel alive again. I don't want to be alone again. 

I'm scared  that this is for nothing

Do I deserve this? Am I such an awful person?

I hate this. 

Maybe it's not so strange I had the dream. I feel like my days are numbered. 

It's getting harder to ignore everything. Harder to be positive, to treat this like some stupid, Stupid fucking new experience or new journey or whatever the fuck. 

This isn't fun anymore. 

It was never fun. 

I want to be someone.  

The room that doesn't exist

 It was just a dream. But I still remember how real it was. The dread of it. The horrible, sinking dread.

It was underneath a trap door and down a decrepit hallway full of doors that didn't work. At the end of the hall was a room that was familiar yet wrong. My old bedroom, yet nothing in it was familiar but a bare full size mattress. It was there I felt it. 

It felt like my grave. 

I knew I was going to rot in there. The room was where I would die. There was no escaping it. There was no way out. 

That room wasn't real. It was just a dream. Yet sometimes I remember how it was in that home that felt like a prison. The home where I rotted. Where I couldn't imagine living to see another day. Stuck forever in a place I could only hate and drown in. 

The room was supposed to be a dream but I know I lived in it. Sometimes I feel like I never truly escaped it. Because the room had no escape. There is no such thing. 

I remember it. I wish I could forget. 

It was never a dream.

Yet why am I here?

It'll be Okay

 I'll make it work. I'll figure it out like I always do. No matter what. I have control. Sometimes I feel like I don't. Because you can't control anything when the waves drown you out. But it'll be okay. Because it has to be. It will.

Nowhere to go but

All my plans have been basically shit on. I've fucked up so bad and now I feel I have nothing. So I guess I should just finish classes while I look for a job. After that I don't know if I can continue college until further into the future maybe by next year who knows. I probably have to change my major and degree path. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm going to do. 

I'm probably going to move to Colorado and go to school there. Hell I wish I knew.

It's a long trip but over here I feel like it's just a dead end. It's better than dying out in this shitty state.

Living

 Doing my best between work and my intensive algebra homework to just enjoy life. Tired of just isolating myself and getting angry and pushing people away. I'm going out, I'm going to have hobbies. I already made 2 new friends and plus reconnected with one. We're going to the ren fair next week. Things aren't so bad, at least for now. Not sure what I'm going to do in the future, especially when the weather starts getting hot. For now what else can I do but live?