TW - Does Anybody Hear Her?
TW (Trigger warning)
Why are there two sides of me?
The one side with the smiley happy rainbow My Little Pony cutesy rainbows kinda side…
And then the real me.
The side that remembers.
The side that feels every ache, every rejection.
The side that made me mask today.
The side that remembers my stepdad’s screaming and neglect.
The side that remembers being hurt by men, and mentally cowers around them because of it.
The side that knows what it feels like to force yourself to become numb to survive.
The side that knows that flight and fawn are the best ways out of the four to escape abuse.
The side that wishes nearly daily that she had a place to hide in her closet, to escape the mental pain.
The side that wishes her dad really loved her. Sought her out. Fought for her.
The side that feels alone in a crowd. Knows she really doesn’t fit in anywhere. And is forced to smile and pretend she doesn’t feel that way.
The side of her that is a master at hiding. And also… doesn’t know how to hide it.
The side that finds men both attractive and disgustingly vile.
The side that can’t relax no matter how much it tries.
The side that tries to drown her pain with food… And then looks at her stomach in the mirror and is disgusted with herself, with her coping mechanism.
The side that feels like she says too much… And is rewarded with crickets.
The side that constantly is taking care of someone… and just wants to be a five year old again, being taken care of, cuddled, loved.
The side that looks for satisfaction in loving those who couldn’t care less that she exists.
The side that somehow keeps going, and doesn’t know how…
I wonder if I say too much.
The scattered responses to my last post made me wonder if I was making people uncomfortable, if they didn’t understand, if I had bared my soul too much.
I wonder if I should just retreat.
Stay the clown.
Give the smiles.
Share the love.
…d*e inside.
Not that I want to d*e. Don’t misread that.
But… is my soul too much. Too raw. Broken, open wounds. Scars. Things that may never heal.
Is it too much for you?
For them?
For anyone?
Am I too broken?
Broken clay pots aren’t useful. They get thrown away.
Is that why I have almost no friends?
Shiny happy people have friends. I’m broken and shattered. Am I worth it to anyone anymore?
Does anybody hear her? Does anybody see?
I don't see that side of you except the bit you have shared. I see a very unselfish kind wonderful person. As others have mentioned, I feel some of what you are saying. I have had to learn to be selfish. I am still working on this and mastering this. Maybe you could do something for yourself or say no to others more. I don't know what that means for you, but I think you might know.
@jesusredeemedme2425 😥 I understand that it's easier to wear the mask than bare the truth. I guess that's a blessing and a curse in itself🙁 but your words don't go unheard sooo many people love you here 💖💖 I love you 💗 I see you putting on a brave face and know that really your struggling. I wish I could take your pain away. But please never feel bad for showing your true coulors💖 hugggggggsss you really tightly 💖 I'm always here for you girl 💖
@Tinywhisper11 it's ok to be a glow stick 💖 remember they need to be broken to shine the brightest💖
Awww I like that <3
@jesusredeemedme2425
*Places a shield down for you to hide behind when you feel you need to*
Being honest with the world and showing the bits that are normally held back protectively leaves us feeling raw and exposed. It takes a lot just to do it, and if the response is not what we may have been hoping for deep down, the deflation can sting even worse.
I am sure we all wish we could somehow conjure that safe, warm, comforting place for you with but a word...I am sure that many here would eagerly join you there...but since 'will to do' does not always match capacity to create, we can try to do the next best thing and show you that we see all aspects of you; bouncy my little pony Kiara, fragile unsure Kiara, kind and supportive Kiara, self doubting and unhappy Kiara, and super fun creative Kiara. All are seen and heard and equally cared about.
I hope you can feel able to keep showing every side of you to us that you wish to, and never feel that your words go unnoticed. I would like to think that seeing all the affectionate responses from your friends here might help you feel connected and maybe even assist in smoothing off some of the rougher edges of those thoughts and feelings that hurt.
Kiara is a great person, and we all are so much better off by having her presence in our lives.
@jesusredeemedme2425
🌷🌷kiara 🌷🌷
It sounds like you're carrying a lot, and it's incredibly brave of you to articulate these two sides so vividly. What you're describing, this feeling of having a public persona that's bright and cheerful, while inside holding a world of profound pain and memory, is a very human experience. It's like you've developed a way to navigate the world with a shield of rainbows and smiles, even while the "real you" is constantly processing deep hurts and unresolved feelings.
That "real you" is holding onto so much: the echoes of past trauma, the struggle with trust, the constant vigilance, the yearning for a love and security you didn't receive. It's the part that understands survival mechanisms like flight and fawn, and the desperate need to numb yourself or find a hiding place from the mental anguish. It's also the part that feels intensely lonely, even when surrounded by others, and struggles with self-worth, seeing yourself as "broken" because of what you've endured.The conflict you feel, between presenting a happy front and the raw truth of your inner world, is a heavy burden. It makes sense that you'd wonder if you're "too much" for others, especially when you've experienced reactions that make you feel unheard or misunderstood. You're asking if your pain, your history, your authentic self, is acceptable.
It's clear you're not asking to "die" but rather if the "d*e inside" is a consequence of trying to contain all that raw emotion, to be what others expect, instead of being truly seen and accepted. The fear of being "thrown away" like a broken pot is a deeply painful one, touching on feelings of unworthiness and isolation.What you're expressing here isn't scattered. it's a coherent outpouring of a soul that has been through immense suffering and is trying to make sense of it all. It's not "too much." It's just you, speaking your truth, and that takes incredible strength.
@jesusredeemedme2425
You are not too broken. You are not too much. Bare your soul and tag everyone, we are here for you.
You remind me of the Japanese art of Kintsugi, where broken pottery is restored. It involves mending the pieces with lacquer, then using gold (or silver or platinum) to fill the cracks and seams, emphasizing the breaks as part of the object's history and beauty.
You are repairing, slowly but surely. I believe that in my soul. I'm so sorry you've been through so much. Life has thrown a lot your way, but you never quit, and I'm eternally thankful for that. Because of you, I never give up. Even in my darkest moments, I hold onto hope.
