“Congrats on your promotion! Oh man, your career is really flourishing. I wish I was you.”
I wonder if they would understand if I let them know how much I struggle each and every day; to wake up, to get out of bed and make it through the day. How I force myself to smile, to speak. How I must remind myself every couple of minutes to breathe. I wonder if they will understand my need to pour myself into my work, the need to thrive in the hope that I will feel something…anything, to help me fight to stay alive. Will they understand, that at the end of each day I run back to the comfort of my bed, where I shut my eyes and fight the seductive thoughts of bringing all this to an end.
“You have such a beautiful family. If only mine was as perfect too. I love how you do your makeup! I need you to teach me, will you?”
How can I explain that perfection is a skill I had to learn, to protect my children…to protect myself. That I hate makeup but it was easier to learn how to paint my face than it was to give explanations of the wounds and scars that constantly decorate my face. How can I explain my constant want to scream and cry. How each day, my soul pleads with God, asking him…why? How it is easier to wrap myself up in long clothing than it is to explain the numerous bruises all over my body. How can I explain my self-loathing, my disgust; at my inability to defend myself, protect myself, free myself. How can I explain my shame, my pain…how difficult it is to walk away?
How can I explain?
Will they understand?
A deep breath,
Perhaps one day I will find the courage to try.