9 years

9 years

They say life can change in an instant

Or it can change through a series of events

Sometimes unknown to us

And unknown just how big the impact will be

I don’t know what it’s actually like to be in combat

For I was never a real soldier

And I would never even begin to imagen

What combat is really like

But I imagen that it’s something close to what I went through

For nine long years

Without even knowing it or realizing what was happening

Or who it truly impacted my for the rest of my life

This is my story

I spent nine years going through the motions

Trying to discover who I really was

I’m not sure when it really started

Or really ended

But I know when the worst of it happened

Having words shot at me like bullets from a gun

Damaging every inch of my body

Beating me down

Until there was nothing left

Feeling weak and helpless

Pathetic and naïve

Worthless and angry

Sad and in pain

Being told everyday that nothing I did really mattered

That no matter what I did there will always be someone better

Not being able to achieve my full potential

Because there was always someone there to knock it down

Being ridiculed everyday for who I was or who I wasn’t

Having people play with my emotions and my morals

Like they were chew toys to a dog

Looking for support at ever angle and at every corner

Seeing friends walk on by giving their hands only to take them back at the last second

Being told that the only reason I was around

Was to be the punch of every joke

To make everyone else feel better about themselves

To give them someone to hate

I would hear them say everyday

“You’re so easy to hate, that’s why we love you”

Love so frivolous a concept

Not knowing what it really means

Not knowing if I’ve ever actually felt it before in my life

Not knowing what it looks like or smells like or even tastes like

As bullets keep coming and coming knocking me down

I’m too naïve to realize it’s all “friendly” fire

Coming at me in all directions

I bury my head in the sand

Not knowing what to do

I try to stand up for myself

I try to fight back

But everytime I tried

Everytime I stood

I got shot right back down

Told I was the bully

Told I was the one with the gun

Told I was the outcast

I cried myself to sleep just about every night for nine years

The ones I looked at as friends were the ones firing the shots

But I was too naïve at the time to realize it

The ones I looked to for guidance and support

Pretended it wasn’t happening

Told me to focus on my grades

Focus on something else

Become a better person

How can I become a better person

 When I’m told everyday I’m not one

I was foolish enough once to not believe the words

To not believe that the reason I felt the way I did

Was because of the bullets I picked out of my bleeding and chard skin everyday

I can’t say when I finally gave in

Maybe that’s when the hundred foot wall around me shot up out of the ground

Surrounding me in darkness

Not able to see the sky or the sun

Not even the stars could shine bright within the walls

I was surrounded by my own wall

Cowering in the corner

All alone

Wondering how I got here

Finally I did the only thing I could do

I picked up my wall brick by brick

And I ran

I ran as fast as I could and as far away as I could

Leaving everything else behind

Wondering if they would even notice

It’s been six years since that happened

Six years trying to put back together the broken pieces of myself laying on the ground

Six years trying to figure out who I was and who I wanted to be

And after six long years

I still don’t have a clue

All the pieces look the same

Yet each one is a different shape

Unable to be put back together again

And each time I find two the connect

The memory of those nine years sends another bullet at me

Shatter the two pieces into hundreds more

Everyday I wonder what I did wrong

Everyday I wonder what I could have done differently

Everyday I wonder what else could have been said

Everyday I wonder whether or not I’m alive or not

Everyday I wonder if the bullets really did kill me

And not I’m just a shadow in the sun

Passing by as everyone else lives their lives

It’s taken me six long years to put a name to the abuse

To put a name to the bullets

To all the verbal and emotional abuse

To all the broken pieces

And to all the broken memories

I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

Something that never even occurred to

Something I never thought I could have

But now that I have a name to it

I finally feel like I can start to put the pieces back tighter again

But the thoughts are still there

The memories ingrained deep within me

Are there too many pieces to fix

Am I too broken to be fixed

How do I even start to stick the pieces back together

When the bullets from the past keep coming back

How am I able to trust myself again

How am I able to trust those around me

How am I to trust that I can actually love

Not just myself but other people

When the very word was stripped from me

How am I able to walk on with nine years of burden

With nine years of baggage weighing me down

Nine years of war

Nine years of constant battles

Nine years of watching allies fall

Wondering if one of the bullets

I’m still pulling out

Will be the one that finishes it

It’s been six long years

I know I’m on the right path to putting it all back together

Or at least I have faith that I am

I know the path is long

With no end in sight

The path going back and forth

Covered with demons and monsters to fight

And I’m not sure I’ll be able to get through it all

But no matter how long it is

No matter how hard the path is

No matter how many bullets come flying

No matter how many times I have to pick myself up

I’ve decided with every part of me

That I’m not going without a fight

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