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April 12, 2010
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I could tell you my life’s perfect, I wouldn’t change a thing. I could tell you my life’s a living hell, the only way out is death. Both lies, both true. I am selfish, raw, working life to my benefit, as do many. Some say I’d be noble for admitting this, pitiful, I say. For anyone who sees the monster inside and does nothing to tame it is nothing but a monster themselves. Inside I am empty, trapped. The monster has consumed me. Rising to the surface leaving me behind to dwell in all my wrong doings, which are many.
Day by lonely day and night by sleepless night the monster lives out my life, while I stay drowning in memories of regret. Never trying to escape, why bother? I am weak. The only comfort I have is no comfort at all. Who am I to offer myself redemption when I’m so undeserving? The monster tells me what I really am, nothing. I believe him, feasting upon his words. Striking myself with the emotional daggers he gives me daily. What is blood that runs through your veins now spilled upon the floor? Useless, just like me.
I long for the day the monster will fall and the real me will rise. The monster denies the love I crave. For how can someone love nothing? How can nothing be anything to anyone? Can nothing become something? I spend the dark hours of day and night striving to rise above the darkness that now owns me. The monster senses my reluctance. Chains are now added to my imprisonment. Weighting me down, sinking me further into the deepening darkness. Hope of freedom that once lit my way is now extinguished by my doubt and fear. I used to dream of what I could be, what I could have. Hope for these dreams are gone.
With all my hopes and dreams crushed I am left with nothing but memories of those I’ve hurt and those who’ve hurt me. So much pain. Tears stream down my face. The monster sees. He feeds upon my pain, smiles greedily, and sends more daggers my way. They hit me with excruciating pain. More tears, yes, the monster likes this. More daggers. He’s growing now as I shrink. My face begins to burn as the tears fade. The tears left a fire upon my skin.
I try to remember how it started. It wasn’t always like this. I used to be, happy. I follow this train of thought. I remember happiness. I follow it further. I remember that night. His words cut into my skin, “not good enough.” I remember the cold metal touch against my warm skin. The pressure. The feeling of my skin being cut into two, the relief that followed. The velvet blood, rushing from my veins. Running down my hand, and dripping off my fingers. My head falls back, my eyes close. The pain ceases. I deserve this. The blade returns, I am ready this time. Tears fall and mix with my blood. All my pain is now spilled upon the floor, useless now, just like me.
The monster remembers this night as the night of his birth. He often takes me there to remind me of my weakness. That night and the others, burned into my memory. Remembering them hurts almost as much as his words. I don’t want to remember. I want to be happy, free from the monster. I look into his eyes. I see what I denied before. The monster is him. I’ve let him control me since that night. It’s been months now. Friends have left, family members stopped talking to me, everything good in my life was now gone. I cry again, how could I let this happen? How could I let someone have so much power over me?
No, not anymore, I’m done. I tell him no more. He fights back using cruel words, harsh memories. I cover my ears and try to remember happiness. No more. His power over me will be no more. Memories can be lost, pain can be forgotten, forgiveness can come, scars will heal, and I will get my life back. He begins to fall. His power over me falls the more I fight. Soon he’ll have nothing over me. He’ll always be with me but I will learn to control him, tame the monster. I will be free.

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