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An inconvenience of thoughts

From a very early age I was taught how to just stand there and take it. Not to put up a fight because I was too young to understand the reason why the adults in my life did what they did. I have been programmed that way, simply to be less of an inconvenience to my mum, my brother and sisters. Because we went through so much turmoil and trauma, me having a hissy fit or not doing what I was told was an inconvenience. My opinions, my thoughts were all an inconvenience. So, I’ve always kept them to myself and when I found that to be too overwhelming, I put my thoughts and opinions onto my body in cuts and bruises and when that stopped working, I translated it all into poetry.

You know what, life was hard growing up. And I know that is no excuse for my behaviour at any point in my life and that is why I keep most of these feeling buried. But they are damaging me internally and not only just that, but it is damaging my relationship with my mum, brother, sisters and friends. They need me to start maturing emotionally instead of being stuck in this petulant child phase that I am rotting in. I’m constantly angry at… I don’t know, so many things. My dad for his abusive nature, my brother’s baby mama for her manipulative one, my mother for her dependency and my sister’s for the same thing. But, most of all, I’m angry at myself for being angry at all of this. Because I don’t feel as if I have the right to have these opinions and these thoughts.

I’ve just always been used to reserving my feelings to myself or turning them off for the convenience of other people. And it’s difficult now, because people who used to tell me to be quiet and to shut up when I wanted to say something, suddenly want to me to speak my mind. But the problem is, I don’t know how to and the little I can, I don’t know if they would want to hear it. I love them, despite my anger, and would never want to hurt them. But I can’t even imagine how frustrating it is for them, now that they want to hear what I say and how incapable I am to say it. Me stuttering on my words and tripping over my sentences, getting stage fright from simply talking to the people that I love.

It must be hard for them.

Because, goddamn it, I know it’s hard for me.

Nakedstreetkid out x

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