The unloveable child

My childhood ended when I was two years old

I can only remember chaos, agony and sadness, two people who are constantly screaming, parents who abandon me and how I have never been able to fully grasp what is happening- I realised as an infant that something was wrong with me, why else can’t mommy and daddy love me?

Core of shame

Ashamed of the self-being, the face, the smile through crooked teeth, the heavy body and all its parts. A burden that can do no right just wrongs. A vicious liar living in their own fantasy world where nothing hurts, and they pretend to be whatever they want to be- a fairy, a ghost an evil witch mere Escapism from reality. In fantasy land everyone is connected and loved equally. Maybe I wouldn’t have needed this, but I wasn’t safe

Home

What is a home? If it’s not the first place that starved you? Can it even be considered as such? And is that the reason why starvation feels so romantic? Just like home? What is a home if it’s not the first place to teach you about the world and all your flaws-teach you why you aren’t capable of being good enough. What is a home if it’s not the first place you hide yourself in as a punishment. What is a home if you can’t cling onto safety. What is a home where your being is constantly rejected. What even is a home?

The unseen trauma When I tell people I was physically abused they all get an idea of why I am the way that I am. But what hurts about it the most is that my trauma is still unseen. The beatings hurt, and they made little me so afraid, but what almost hurts more was the silence that followed after the last hit whirled thru the room. What hurt the most was the ignoring of my cries and begging to be understood. What hurt the most was just one sentence my caregiver always spoke: ,,stop crying, or I’ll give you something to cry about.” What hurts the most is exactly this. That I was never allowed to feel my emotions because I was such a bad loud kid. What hurts the most is that I was punished for expressing them and that I still punish myself to this day- I switched roles and started to emotionally neglect myself.

Growing up was the most painful experience What made me so different from my peers I never knew. They all had the script and their roles while I was just an extra playing the passer-by. The “friends” that I made considered me a stranger and abandoned me at every chance they got, which utterly confirmed my belief that there must be something terribly wrong with me, the lonely unloveable child. All those experiences shaped my brain into a mess which had yet to unfold-only ten years old I didn’t know that in just the span of two years, my life would begin to spiral into dark depression, addictions and disorder eating-all in the name of being finally loved and accepted, because I yearned so much for true connection.That is what trauma does.It keeps you stuck in an endless cycle of proving that you are more than enough.