imamiddlechild - Tumblr blog

[imamiddlechild]

Have you always been like this? Ready to be under the spot light at a moments notice, distracting the audience. I mean, you are awfully good at it. When did you learn the art of distraction. Was it when you cracked a joke with the CPS lady and she dropped the investigation. Or the endless games you would play with your siblings or your friends, really anyone who would keep you away from home even just for a minute. You learned from an early age that its your job to make things better. If people notice the cracks and bruises, then you've messed up. When they can see the secret behind the trick, it's no good for anyone. It is your fault if anyone in the room is upset, clearly you aren't doing your job right. If you just make them laugh it'll be all better, that's all you know. They told you that laughter was the best medicine, you believed them, and they lied.

[imamiddlechild]

When do you think a child loses their innocence? I think it's the 3rd month of 7th grade. Sure you've had your period, and an occasional grope from a classmate, but you were still a child. In history your teacher was doing a slideshow, starting the world War 2 unit. That's when you see the bodies. All twisted up greasy and skeletal. Sure you'd seen death in battlefields, sketches and drawings and pictures. But your mind couldn't quite understand, these weren't soldiers,they didn't lie dead in a battlefields. You learned the sentence tortured to death and the little switch flipped in your head. You'd never known of true human cruelty until now, you'd never even heard it before. Your hope dissipates on the image of the smoke from the chambers.

[imamiddlechild]

I wonder, as I do my morning yoga, why it takes so much effort to keep someone alive who is so easily happy. Because it's not just the yoga, painfully holding each sore position to get as many Endorphins as possible, it's the gratitude journal, and the weed card for the dispensary you kind of know your way around, which gets you vape weed (which honestly I don't know if I'm inhaling correctly). It's the constant need and reminder to stay positive, romanticize your life, turn problems into opportunities, grind grind grind. But every puppy I see is the cutest, every cloud and sunset the best I've ever seen. I am so easily amused, just not with myself. It seems like it would be easy for those around me to be able to match my energy, which has always been the same. How is it that every communication with a person just exhausts me. Right now it's Yoga, and then I have to write 3 things in my gratitude journal, read an affirmation, meditate, then I can eat. We have to do so many things because others are willing to do so little.

[imamiddlechild]

I love everything, I love the bees and the trees and I want you to like me. My dad's says I try to hard too hard to make everyone laugh, I guess I try too hard with people in general, I think they can smell fear, the ones we try to convince to love us. I've had so many people tell me how much they love me. That we'd be friends forever. It's funny how quickly people stop loving you after you've run out of jokes. They stop loving you like a broken toy, that no longer makes funny sounds. Sometimes it feels like everyone is in on the joke but me. How do I make people love me as myself, instead of mask I put on to cover the scars

[imamiddlechild]

We sleep on the floor, or the couch, or our twin beds pushed up against the wall and pray that when we wake up the world will be good again and hope that we can be good too.

[imamiddlechild]

I would do anything to be loved. To have someone listen to and understand me. To have someone not treat me like a burden, or an entertaining friend. I've always been jealous of soul mates, whether it be sister, friend, or lover. It always seems like everyone else has someone who loves them unconditionally. Someone who helps them without question, willing to put up with their flaws. I am so lonely, think something must have been cut out, some part of me is missing and I'm the only one who doesn't know. I mean that's the only explanation, unless I did something terrible in a previous life and was given this one as penance. I don't want to be alone anymore, I don't want to hide who I am anymore. I want to hold someone until I am unbroken. I want someone to hold me, and make me their person, someone they choose every time.

[imamiddlechild]

She has nothing but love in her heart, if they would just let her. Love for some reason is treated like a rare commodity. She would hug everyone she ever meets if she could. Talk endlessly about all the magical things in the world. She used to smile at night because of the pure joy coursing through her body, and the excitement of tomorrow. But with each rejection, or scolding as a result of her happy nature her light dims more. She smiles less, speaks quieter, is more hesitant to make friends. They tell her that this is good, that she needed to grow up, face reality. She wishes to be the girl with joy in her heart again, to dream and be childish and be excited for the next day again.

[imamiddlechild]

I wish I could express my thoughts without sounding like a scared little girl. Thats why I resist therapy, I don't know how to articulate the broken porcelain on the floor without the tears. I'm too busy crying and being embarrassed that I can't explain that the plate is broken. I'm so well trained from childhood that I don't know how to properly express pain. I couldn't be in pain as a child, I wasn't allowed. I never learned words other than, I'm fine, I had a great day, my parents say I don't know how to lie, but it's them who taught me.

[imamiddlechild]

It's funny, how quickly moods change. In the morning, I felt like God. Like I could easily climb a mountain, or kiss a girl, like nothing and no one could hurt me. But by midday, I remembered. Heartbreak doesn't like to be forgotten about. A simple phrase, or misplaced thought can be all it takes sometimes to lead me into devastation. Because that's what it is, devastation. It all feels so hopeless all the time, like your all alone in the world. It's so irrational, the thoughts of the broken. You can be self aware about it all you like but, the thoughts don't stop. I wonder how people do it, I haven't figured it out yet.

[imamiddlechild]

You're right, I belong in the kitchen. That's where the knives are.

[imamiddlechild]

People always want to ask what made you sad or anxious. You can see it in their eyes though, that they don't know what you've had to do to survive. Some of us have gone to battle only to be told that the legend of our names is now myth. The hardest thing is to hear that it never happened. You've already lost the battle if you have to remind someone what they did to you.

[imamiddlechild]

My mom says that I need to go back to therapy. What she doesn't understand is that I don't know how to properly express my emotions. She doesn't know this because it's her fault. My whole personality is built on guilt and and tears. I was taught to feel guilty every moment. But I don't know how to express myself to my doctor without sounding like a little girl. The very little girl crying behind my eyes. They don't make it easy. I had a therapist she taught me to rationalize instead of process. She had nothing to say when I told her about my lost friendships, that's why I stopped seeing her. That was the sea foam on the ocean of my sadness.

[imamiddlechild]

I'm so full of words that they spill out when i don't mean them too. Words like "I love you ", "don't leave me", "I miss you", secret words that were never supposed to get past my teeth. Getting excited for me is like a gag reflex, spilling from my lips and out into the world.

[imamiddlechild]

I don't think I was meant for this world, after all I came into this world hanging from my umbilical cord. I can feel everything, and its exhausting. Every dead animal in the road was a dear friend lost. Every hurtful word or angry looking glance is a stab to the heart. This world hurts so much to the sensitive soul. I never understood how other people can't feel it, the world burning against their skin. The unhappiness of everyone around them. All the cruelty that happens everyday, every moment. I can feel everything, nerves bare to the world.

[imamiddlechild]

I tell my coworker that I need to go home. That I'm having a panic attack and need to lay in bed. She tells me to take a deep breath, its funny that when your broken people just think you've forgotten how to breathe. She tells me I can't miss anymore work, I tell her that's she's welcome to mop up my vomit when I shake so hard I lose my breakfast. What they don't tell you about antidepressants is that you can still be sad, you just can't cry. You are depressed, you just won't make those around you uncomfortable. Sometimes I wonder why people don't know what it's like to be sad. But my jealousy is to be discussed another day.

[imamiddlechild]

I'm so full of words, I'm only just now learning how to plug up the holes, not let them spill from my lips every chance I get. It wasn't easy, to learn I mean, that I had sprung a leak. I'm so full of stories, I'm bursting out of my corset with sentences and punctuation. So many ideas so little hope for the future. They told me, when I was younger that bad handwriting comes from laziness. I learned that really bad handwriting comes from trying to convey too much at once. I just have so much to say, if they only wanted to listen.

[imamiddlechild]

Maybe my problem is that I want to talk about it without remembering it. I want to put it in a little box, so that the doctor can diagnose it, treat it, and hold it over night for observation. I want to be able to pull it out of a box to show others so that they may pinch at it, and understand. I want to be able to put the box away when I'm done.