Back to hell.

Deeper than you have ever been before, you let him sit with you while you recalled and remembered – but not the rapes this time- instead the other side of hell where the crippling loneliness and the soul shattering abandonment lived.

You told him of the heart breaking things you used to do to starve off the loneliness. You told him of the terrible and embarrassing things you had to do in order to survive.
You shared with him your fears, that were not only true back then, but still keep you awake at night now. How it was better not to ask, not to tell, or to plead or beg- because rejection was worse than being alone. You told him how hard it is to let anyone help now, how terrifying it is to ask for anything, because what if they say no? What if they leave you? Then you will be alone with this, all over again.
And you know he has known it all along, he has observed it in your guarded behaviour, your need to control and to keep everyone at arms length and why there’s only a handful of people you dare to trust. Perhaps you don’t hide it as well as you thought. You wonder how many others can see through you too and it makes you afraid.

Back at home, listening to the birds singing as you pace up and down the garden, you remind yourself, that you aren’t alone, that it’s over, that he can’t hurt you now. You try to find the beauty in your garden, you desperately search for the peace that usually resides there. You fight the darkness that loneliness brings.
In desperation you remind yourself that you can cope alone, even if everyone leaves, you know you can survive.

That wound you kept covered for so long? It’s gaping now, bleeding profusely. You can barely fight the tears, the paranoia and the fear. Alone, alone. A darkness you lived for too long and isolation and despair you know too well.
You remind yourself once again, that it was then, not now, yet you wonder if you are kidding yourself. Surely it would be foolish to trust fully again? You know that is too dangerous, you know you must always be prepared, because evil exists, you know that now.

What if he comes back for you? What if he does it to you again? And worse, ..what if they can’t handle the truth and you are left alone once more? You know you can’t handle the rejection again.. because that brokenness you try to hide inside of you..well, guess what? It isn’t just from the rapes, what really kills you is that you were left, over and over and over again. Condemned, hated, shamed, blamed and abandoned. Now that was hell. Real hell. Do you ever really come back from that?

I am not so sure you do. I’m tired of always being positive- it’s part of the lie, part of the front, to cover up what is inside me. Death was all around me back then, I died a thousand times and each time I woke back into hell, a hell that you don’t know and cannot understand unless you have lived it. Don’t tell me to be positive, or remind me of what I have or how far I have come- I’d rather be alone than have you try to fix me. You can’t fix this. This isn’t fixable, not like that. Let me hurt, let me be broken, because right now that is how it is. And if it isn’t too much to ask and you can find it within yourself to watch, please stay with me, hurt for me, be angry along with me. Please, let me bleed, but don’t make me do it alone again.