From Nothing I came..(Part 1)

 Reading through my blog roll this morning I came upon the following post, http://theforgottengirl.wordpress.com/2008/08/29/can-i-pick-your-brains/ , by  theforgottengirl  As I sat and read her thoughts, her past, it was almost like reading from my own mind, from the pages of the diary of my life.

This particular passage struck a chord and sent a chill down my spine

Its not easy being a person who really should never have existed, it is not great for confidence to know that not only do you not fit in anywhere but also that you was not really ever wanted anywhere. An upbringing of pity leaves you lacking feelings that others take for granted. Like a flower, people grow with love and tenderness; those that have been forced to grow in the dark are not as beautiful or as vibrant. This was my life. I grew in darkness, in confusion, with pity.

Can I pick your brains? « The Forgotten Girl

 

Reading this was like reading my own thoughts, times in my life when I have felt the same thing and had the same thoughts, even still today.

My own childhood was far from happy, dogged with Violence and anger, fear and hatred prevailed, I never really knew or understood what love was, or how to be complete. With childhood eyes I saw the rest of the world as normal, and my world I knew was wrong. Love to me was a black eye, being knocked to the floor, watching as even the small simple things we had where smashed to pieces before me. Love was missing meals, locked in a room, endless nights of silent tears, empty promises and bitter regret.

Love to me was an endless struggle from one form of pain to another, the sting of a belt is often less harsh and has less impact than the sting of promptly timed words.

Child like in nature, I often wanted someone to hold me, tell me things were all right, that the world was good and that I was loved. Instead all I heard was what was wrong with me, how bad I was, and that I should never have been born. Every thing was left to criticism, nothing was ever enough, nothing was ever good enough, and O how I tried, how I tried to please, be recognised be seen as more than a punch bag. Back then I was unable to comprehend the fact that I was nothing.

Always in public we had the “look” that hid the nightmare behind close doors, Good Christian family went to church every Sunday and preyed to God. What my parents never knew with there silent angelic faces was that I too preyed to God, I preyed and I preyed with all my heart to make things better, to make me good, to stop the pain, the endless violence, to make me normal.

I wanted what the rest of the world had, a father that played, a mother that cared, a “happy home” As I aged, as I grew, I sought refuge in myself, my mind created a world where I lived the happy ever after, I twisted the vines of reality, and carved in me a safe new world where everything was perfect and the pain would go away.

In reality things were far from perfect, i learnt how to act, how to build walls of protection through many hard lessons of life, I learnt how not to care, when my birthday present given, was taken away, smashed before my eyes. I learnt not to feel the pain of a stick, or the hurt when your own “mother” looks deep in your eyes and spits in your face, I learnt how to cover up the cuts on my face from where my “dad” shattered the window with my head. I learnt how to be strong.

At school, that was hard, questions asked and then the bullying, and so the skills my parents taught me came in so handy, I learnt to fight, and boy could I fight. Its hard for a nothing, a no one to have any feelings, to worry about those it hurts.

Though I could lash out on the outside, though I could stem the pain, the physical pain. Try as hard as I may, I could not stem the cuts inside, I could not stop the constant flow of silent tears in the dead of night, afraid even to use the bathroom as a silent footstep of a child at night was a deadly sin.

I grew and I grew searching for happiness, just a crumb from the table of life would have been nice, a little piece of something to hold on to, a dream, a wish, but a nothing like me does not deserve happiness, that is for normal people. On and On I preyed to God, on and on I tried to make them proud, to make them care, each time to be knocked down, deflated.

Endless nights of silent study, hiding my work away least Dad should find, 8 weeks of course work destroyed the final hour before the deadline, nothing I could produce would ever be good enough, may as well end it now, standing in horror as I watched him tear apart my work, wondering how I would lie to the teacher, to cover this up.

A home that wasn’t a home, a school full of people so alien to me, happiness and love words, just words, for others not for a nothing like me.

When I thought they could hurt me no more, dead inside I felt, when I shut out the world and placed on my mask, another blow they struck. Working harder than ever a place at University I gained, a chance to escape. The days she counted down till the nothing was gone, and it need not think it is coming back. Two days after I left my bed was gone. The first call “home” I made, while most normal people talked of exciting new things I was greeted by “we sold your bed”.

Then there I was out in the real world, alone, no one to show me the way. With people that I could not understand, people warm, and bright. The beatings had stopped, but inside the bleeding went on as I tryed and I tryed to fit in…please God make me normal….please God, Please???

Every day was a battle, I didn’t know this, I did not know that, I had nothing to go on, alone. I did not understand banks, or credit cards, no one showed me the way. All of these things for other people, not nothings like me. I felt like I was trespassing, stepping foot on forbidden ground, lost in a world meant for others.

I learnt to survive. I learnt to act, the nothing stole a mask and some clothes and learnt to slip in with the rest, the normal people, all the time harbouring a dirty dark secret that it was a fake and did not belong, always worrying my secret would be found out, that I would be punished.

I drifted in and out of relationships, looking I guess for love, though I never understood what love was, I had never seen the light. I worked and I worked and at times when things were hard and the money all gone, I starved and suffered silently behind closed doors. I am an expert at keeping a smile on my face, and suffering alone in the night. The world never gets in, least it should see that all these years I have been faking!

When the words came I let them flow, I was a vessel an empty nothing with a mind that raced, drink for a while became my friend, even now I chuckle at a review once written about a passage from some work I did…. At his best an most striking a master of his own art, or some such claptrap from people that judge only by words, spelling and grammar, not content…when I wrote that passage I was half way down a bottle of vodka, I could hardly remember, if only they knew..if only the knew I was a fake.

I gave up trying to find love, even when I had it I did not know what it was or what to do with it. I drifted and drifted, words came and then they went, what did it matter I was a nothing faking it living.

The echos now from the past ever existent in present day. The damage of parents stings onwards, the spurn of nothing now lives.

But things changed…….!

I will write more on this soon, least I bore you!!!

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~ by Duma Key on August 29, 2008.

7 Responses to “From Nothing I came..(Part 1)”

  1. All of these things for other people, not nothings like me. I felt like I was trespassing, stepping foot on forbidden ground, lost in a world meant for others.

    You have managed in two sentences to sum up exactly how I feel.

    From your comments on my blog I knew you had more than just a simply passing understanding on how I feel – its takes someone to have seen the same thing with their own eyes to really emphaise and I knew that you was one of those who had seen and felt it first hand.

    People have been denied the basic right of parental love are left feeling worthless, people like us who have not only been denied it but been criticised and tormented by those same people who should have given us love are left feeling like we are quite simply nothing. In a crowd of people we smile, but it never reaches out eyes, we care but we are not sure what it is to care. We do not delude ourselves with love, for to us, it is something we know nothing off.

    Each day is a masked ball, the mask stays in place, the dream world we created to block out the upsets in our childhood filters through to our adult life, becomes barriers to keep everything out.

    But look at you, despite the barriers you survived, despite the memories that keep you up at night, you shone. You knew nothing, had nothing, felt like you was nothing, but in nothingness sometimes lives everything.

    I want to thank you for your comments to me, also for writing this, it has helped me see that my feelings are not solely my own –that some souls are distantly entwined with the hurt they carry.

    I’m looking forward to reading the rest … as I guess, in this time of change for me, it could bring me a lot of inspiration.

  2. Holaaa! How are you? I hope that everything is going very fine… *HUGS*

  3. tho our experiences differ,, our lessons,, what we taught ourselves as a result of those experiences,, are substantially similar… i am currently looking at the decisions i made as a result of what i taught me… and i will really enjoy taking this journey into self with you… i think we will be able to see things in each other that are very close to home…

    thank you for stopping by and leaving a comment so that i could find you…

    i have added your blog to my reader so i can be kept abreast of your thoughts….

  4. well you definitely had a sad past but thats what we have to learn how to adapt to the worst of circumstances which you started picking up as you grow up..the world is definitely not going to make anything easy for any of us..the survival of the fittest will be there till the end…

  5. Such a tragic story; the story that, unfortuntely, many children live each day. Do know that you are what you feel; I do believe that you already know this. You are a child of God; a beautiful creation; so whatever has happened in the past is simply the past. Easy to say; hard to achieve. I love your blog; in it I see compassion and love from a person who, from this story, knew little of it–if any–as a child. Childhood is the most impressionable age of live. Issues not resolved in childhood always creep up in adult life if we are blessed to live long enough. Keep praying, and whatever you do, do not loose your ability to love. For God is love; and hell is absense of love. Come out of hell and and into the light! Peace, light and love . . . CordieB.

  6. You do not bore me for certain 🙂 A tragic past but at least you’ve learnt some things and Cordie’s right – please do not loose hope on Love. It comes in many forms, my friend. 🙂

    Love, joy and peace to you.

  7. Something in me wrenches in these words, and I have tears. Are they for you, myself?
    “All of these things for other people, not nothings like me.”
    I understand this. I have felt like trespasser most of my life.
    I too, prayed to God to “please make me normal”. Stiil sometimes, this one plea comes, a beseeching from me to my maker. If he made me, then why this way? Why this life, why these ways?
    I ask this less now, believing he made me for a special reason that “normal” life would have beat me out of.
    Perhaps you are meant to share your words, which do have great meaning to me and clearly to others. The normal–whatever that is–person would not have these to give. Thank you for these, your words.
    Pearl

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