Don't Feed The Beast, It Wants Your Soul.

How long has it been since I wrote here ? Too long ?
I don't know that I had anything to say. Not anything that belonged here in this space.
Or perhaps I did, if my forgotten drafts are anything to go by.
Maybe I'm just too full of bullshit. "I'm fine" I really am...
Too scared. Too close to something I wasn't ready to tackle.
This has been my catharsis for so long now, the blank page a non- judgmental ear. (To my often over dramatic ridiculous ramblings...)
And the fuller the page became it seemed the lighter my mind. My heart. My darkness.
But my last post, it made me uneasy. I took it down. It felt too bare. Too honest.
I was being too honest with my own damned self...
And I was hurt, and I didn't want to admit it.
A few days ago, I re-read it. Re-posted it. How cruel I could be...
It never fails to astonish me.
It's safe now, I'm not the same girl. At least that's what I tell myself.
Perhaps it's time to stop laughing at wounds I allow to remain.
As though, if I make them a joke they are not as serious.
That they don't hold me to ransom.

Why do I believe so strongly that to suffer makes me good?
Fuck that shit.
How can I believe that to love every damn thing on this earth is the answer,
if I'm not extending that to my self. Take as much care of everyone else as you can,
but you, who the hell gives a shit?
How did I learn that to have that little self-worth was acceptable ?
But like I said, It's safe now.
I'm not the same girl.

So, I stopped drinking. even moderately. Coz, who the hell am I kidding ?
I wasn't made to be quite that type of fucked up. Too bloody self aware. Too sure that actually...
This can be fixed. Like a wonky table leg.
I don't know how. But I do know that it can be.
It has to be, because I've found something miraculous and I can't lose it.
I know that I'm not as broken as lonely dark nights can make me scared that I am.
Hell, it's been so long since I had one of those nights anyway.
Let it go.
I forget to breathe.

As I write things down they begin to seem ridiculous.
I'm not in this place anymore.
There's so much beauty in my life.
Yet I keep on stumbling.

What keeps me coming back to this place of insecurity? Why can I mend so much of myself,but this...this cruel voice in my head won't move out. No matter how high I build walls.
No matter how I begin to accept...that umm, yeah...I'm somewhat talented at certain things and all that jazz...
That I'm not the heinous monster I saw in the mirror at 15,16...17 and so on. It's like a haunting.
It holds me in its grasp like a lover, fearful of loss. I provide its nourishment.
It eats me alive.
Without me, the beast does not exist. So it lies and it cheats me out of reality.
Gifts me paranoia and these ugly ugly thoughts.
Wishes to box me up in tissue paper. Keep me safe from all harm but its own.

"No one else will ever hurt you"...

Fuck. I see it now...
Someone once said those words to me.
But I took the words wrong.
Felt safe when I shouldn't.
Didn't realise until too late, their sinister tone.
And now those words ring in my ears.
And they are not even his voice anymore.
So long ago...
(...you do it to yourself....you do...and that's what really hurts...)
I fucked up.
And I don't know how to fix it.
I don't trust myself with trust.
Because it seems so naive.
I'm scared of not being scared.
Of settling into happiness.
Love.
Only to have it ripped away when I least expect it.
Because of trust.
Trust is a delicate beautiful thing, and I ruined it.
By putting mine somewhere I knew it didn't belong.

And it makes me angry, the reverberation.
He has no place here.

I thought I should never hate him.
For hate is a poison.
But I'm poisoned all the same.
And it's seeped out of me into the people I love.

And that can't be.
Not this time.

His shadow should not fall
Upon this man.
This man is a gift.
From the Universe.
Or something I never entertained the idea of,
Until I met him.