Growing up is a little strange. When I was a child, I felt like everything had a greater glow, a kind of magic in the air. Today, I feel like everything seems heavier, problems that didn’t exist start to appear, nonexistent worries, and an ever-growing confusion. It’s strange to think that when I was a child, I never lacked anything material. I never went without a toy I wanted, I never missed out on going to Disney or having clothes. Quite the opposite, I always had the best of everything. I can’t say the same about everything else. While my life revolved around material things, my parents seemed to become more and more distant. I will never know whether it was by choice or because they had no other option.
That lack of presence is something I still carry with me. Always being there for someone, even when they forget I exist for a while. I believe that this is what they call trauma, but I confess that, if I can avoid these thoughts as much as possible, I choose to do so. I used to be somewhat skeptical about how much your past affects your present, until I experienced firsthand the consequences of unresolved trauma. Today, I have open wounds, too many problems, and too many questions. I don’t know where I lost myself.
Today, I see myself at a dead end. I see myself trapped in friendships that remind me of my parents, ghosts of old boyfriends who became increasingly neglectful, and I don’t know how to break the cycle. I don’t know how I managed to let myself get to this point. At what point did I become six years old again? Today, I have all the material things I need, and even the ones I don’t, but I find myself alone again. I need to understand why I always choose people who treat me this way, why I always treat myself so badly.
I want to understand when I went wrong, when I made myself into this person who doesn’t deserve to be cared for. At what point did my six-year-old self go wrong? Why do all the ghosts I swore I had gotten rid of seem to multiply? I don’t know where to run anymore. When did I enter this dead end? I always give myself to people, is that my mistake? Do I need to create a new version of myself that is colder toward other people, or have I simply not found someone who sees my worth yet?
I always wonder how people have friends they talk to every day. How do you have people who reach out to you? If I had to turn off my phone for two days, I don’t know if anyone would miss me. I find myself getting more and more lost every day. I don’t know whether to turn around and leave this dead end or try to break through the wall. I wish I had someone to ask.
I wish I were a hopeful kind of person. In the end, I am surrounded by wounds that affect me more and more every day. I don’t know who I should trust, who I should open up to. Who can guarantee that this person came to stay? How can I believe that after hearing my story, they will still be in my life? After all, everyone left, and I am still lost. I feel myself falling deeper and deeper, and I have no one to catch me.
Even when I was a child, I felt like I needed to scream for help. Whether by making a mess, making the wrong decision, or simply screaming. No one came to help me. When I grew up, not much changed. Older every day, more alone every time. I keep screaming for help, not because I need it, but because I think I deserve to have someone come to my rescue. In the end, would that person really come to save me, or would they just watch me drown?
I don’t know if I can trust anyone anymore. I’m so tired of trying to fit in, trying to put myself back together. I need someone with me, but I don’t have the energy to heal myself all over again if they decide to leave. I’m tired of always being the second choice or not being a choice at all. I want to be someone who leaves a mark, but I don’t know where to start. I hope that one day I find my way.
To no One,
Cora Vesper.