My favorite thing about writing is that once I post, I get messages from friends, family, and mere acquaintances that talk about how other people relate to my thoughts and feelings. I believe the need to relate to other people is a fundamental part of being human.
When my last post came out - "December Memories" - I had a lot of people reach out. This time, it wasn't so much that they related to my poem or my feelings, but that they recognized the hurt and anguish in my words. Having my feelings validated and understood meant more than I can say.
On that note -- I had one person who did relate, and wrote their own poem to piggy-back off of mine and the feelings that flooded me as I read it told me that I would be crazy to keep it to myself and not share it. So, without further ado - here is what I call "Late December Memories" written by Anonymous.
Sometimes I forget your existence. Only to be reminded when I have those days... Those days where I don’t know who I am anymore. I used to think questioning my parenting meant I was doing it right. That’s what they say anyways...
But what if I question because it is a form of parenting you saved me from. But yet you laced my DNA with it. I was never exposed to it, but somehow I am living it. Teaching it. I used to think I had it all together. Now I don’t even know what I have. Happiness? Pain? Wisdom? Confusion? I wish I never knew your demons. Somehow they became mine. Would they have been if I didn’t know? Would they still have been unleashed if I didn’t know you? I used to crave your love and attention and honor and respect. Now the thought of you is nothing but pity. Or is it strength? Strength because you knew and you were strong enough to hermit and shelter those who thought they loved you. Or is it cowardly? For not facing your demons and dealing with them for the sake of also saving those around you? Am I doing more damage than love because of you? Am I still able to remain a role model while not being a coward and running away? Instead staying and being transparent and hoping intelligence can triumph and cut the cycle. It’s debilitating to look back at pictures and not even recognize myself. The me I was before I let you subliminally take over me like cancer. Not even knowing it’s there, yet crippling me more and more every day. Am I bitter because of not being a people person? Or am I bitter because this blood that runs through me says I am? If it’s better to know, why can’t I understand? I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to be under your thumb -- to be ruled. Even though you’re no where to be found. I blame you, but is that even fair? Is that healthy? Every time I try to find peace it’s melted away with more hurt and more anger. And why? Where does it come from? Do you even care? Will he still love me while watching me struggle? Not ever knowing how to help or what’s going on. How could he? I don’t. Will he leave me because it may never go away? He deserves better. They deserve better. Is this why you left? Because you knew that too? Is it normal to push people away? Mainly the ones who love you most? Is it normal to hold on to that stubbornness, simply because you already unleashed it and there’s no going back. Is this normal? Or is it another learned trait, from the ghost inside? I can’t talk about it. No one understands. And those who may understand you’ve hurt so bad, I hate to remind them of your existence by being who I am. So I remain in the dark.