Screeching voices echo in my mind, a dull cacophony of nagging and berating, the rhythm of the words thumping irregularly like my heartbeat.
“Nope, not good enough.”
“Try harder.”
“You’re just lazy.”
“It’s all your fault.”
“You’d better apologize.”
“Shut up.”
“Do I look like I care?”
“I thought I told you to stop.”
“Don’t you dare start crying.”
“Stop crying, it doesn’t actually hurt.”
“I do everything for you, and this is how you treat me?”
“I try so hard, and you never even lift a finger to do anything for me.”
“You’re a lazy piece of s***!”
“You’re so incompetent.”
“Can’t you do anything right?”
“You don’t deserve the privileged life you have.”
“You have no clue how good you have it.”
“You’re a nasty, cruel person; and one day, it’s gonna come back to haunt you.”
I’ve gotten used to it. I laugh, smile, joke, play, work, eat, sleep; and it chatters on in the background all the while, inescapable.
People tell me to lighten up; but how can I, with these chains weighing me down, heavy with despair?
How can I see the light when I know the darkness of my shadow, my thoughts, will follow me everywhere I go?
I prefer the darkness to the light; it’s a painful existence, but it’s familiar. It’s all I’ve ever known.