In the echoes of a harsh inner voice
I scream at myself, a painful choice
Names like arrows, sharp and cruel
Self-Inflicted wounds, a relentless duel
Talking badly, denying grace
No room for errors in this dark space
Crying when things break, the anger unfurled
“Goddamnit (Name Removed),” to the shattered world
“I’m an idiot, a moron, a dumbass,” I say
Consistently berating, day by day
Taught by the echoes of a mother’s scorn
Inherited wounds, a legacy worn
Her words a legacy, a cruel inheritance
A cycle of self-hate, a deep grievance
But awareness dawns, a flicker of light
Breaking free from the chains of a dark night
May self-compassion bloom, a gentle seed
In the barrens oil of a wounded creed
May kindness replace the cruel refrain
And healing begin, a new path to gain
I don’t talk to myself as badly as I used to, but still too often. I’ve been told I’m a negative person, that I look for every reason that I shouldn’t succeed, for every reason for someone to fail me, lie to me, use me, every reason that I will fail, and that I need to stop thinking that way. Tell me, how is one supposed to stop thinking so badly of themselves when that’s all they’ve heard their entire lives? How is one supposed to gain an ounce of confidence, self-love and respect, and not think negatively when that’s all they’ve experienced in their environments? I only learned to change these behaviors after I attempted to end my life, had a near death experience, thought I met Jesus in the afterlife, (I actually may have) moved back to my home state and found out all the secrets, lies and toxic manipulations. We become who we are told we are. Most children (not saying there aren’t mental illnesses that cause bad behaviors in children, because there are) are a product of their environment and how they were raised and treated. I believe I’ve said this before, but I can’t stand my full name. Most people call me by my nickname. Because I was berated the most with my full name, and it’s triggering. That, my friends, is PTSD. My mother gave me PTSD, in so many ways. However, my label is more C-PTSD, because it was complex, chronic, and never-ending. I no longer work through heavy traumas in therapy. I work on changing my negative self-core thinking, my behaviors that stem from her, the behaviors that are like hers. I get down to the bottom of, “Why,” and I teach myself, and parent myself, and figure out how to change it. I’m allowing myself to "Grow up" with healthy love and respect, as well as allowing myself to make mistakes and not scolding myself for it, and not feeling like it’s the end of the world to break a dish that’s replaceable. What’s not replaceable is the long-lasting damage that has been caused in my mind, and my entire life that’s full of broken relationships, longing for connection, and, well, just my life.
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