Emotional Purge

If you could go back in time, would you?

What would you do differently?

I have so many unanswered questions right now. My mind is spinning and my heart is pounding. My hands won't stop shaking. I don't understand. I want to understand.

Things have changed so much. Yet, not much has changed at all.

I'm still the girl who puts on a face... I'm still burying emotions and feelings deep inside for fear of hurting... or hurting another. I still try to hide. I still try to run.

I feel stronger.

Yet, I feel beaten down... less than a person.

I started this blog to be honest. But I find myself hiding in the words I write. Tempting you to understand. Daring you to know what I am talking about. But never completely opening up.

I have nearly ten blog posts that are saved in my computer. Deep, heartfelt writings where my feelings are bare on the page. I have read and reread each word. But I can't bring myself to post... to open up. How can I?

I wish I could see the future.

I wish I could go back in time.

I hate that I find myself so repulsive. I cry for the person I have become. I am a lonely outcast who tries to remain hidden. I try to mend my heart by building walls. The walls of anger and apathy are growing thicker each day. It's easier.

Sometimes I feel that everyone I have ever loved has hurt me. Why should I try to love again?

I don't understand what I did wrong... What am I doing wrong?

"It will get better," they say. "Be patient."

I want to yell and scream at them. They don't understand. How could they? They are not me! They have never traveled down the road I am on. How can things get better when I am trying so hard to disappear? Can't they see that the inner turmoil is preventing any hope of happiness?

And can't they see that they will never understand what I don't tell them?

I have buried the secrets dark and deep. They are locked away forever in places in my soul that I don't dare look at... let alone show anyone else.

They think I am doing better. They think they I am happy. They don't know that they are wrong--that I am only showing them what they want to see. The truth is far too potent.

The truth is I have nothing.

I have a cat and Fluffy.

I have my mom, but even she will never know--can't ever know--what I am thinking and feeling.

I try to swallow the emotions. Some days the lump in my throat makes me throw up. It isn't fair. I wish it would go away. I wish there was a way for my questions to be answered.

But how can they when I have made it impossible for the answers to reach me?

Won't the answers just bring more pain?

The last time I questioned, I got hurt. I missed class. I stayed in my room for days and cried. I found out HE had moved on. Doesn't that prove I need to stay hidden from the world forever? Doesn't that prove that my desire for answers might prove fatal?

I am so lost.

I am so confused.

The summer sun has come, and with it my scars. They are worse in the summer. They remind me of a different place... A better place? They remind me of the scars that are forming on my broken heart.

Some days I wish they weren't scars, but open, festering wounds. It sounds sick, I know, but the anger and numbness that has replaced the blood seems... worse.

I am talking in circles, and I apologize. This is the most real I have been in a long time. Seeing the words form sentences on this page is semi-cathartic. It is also painful. My chest feels like it is going to explode.

I wonder if I am going to post this. Or if it will simply be another draft I will read again and again.

It is getting late. Nearly 2:30 a.m. I should stop writing and go to sleep.

Sleep is hard to come by lately. It's elusive. I wish it wasn't needed. I hate sleep almost as much as I hate food. It is slightly depressing that I abhor two main staples in my life.

I wonder if going back would change that.

I wonder if continuing forward would.

Right now I wonder if I can even do either.

I wonder if disappearing would solve anything.

I wonder if anyone would even notice--or miss--my absence.

If you could go back in time, would you?

What would you do differently?

The questions are still haunting me. The pain in my chest is still there. My hands are still shaking. While this is the most honest I have been in a long time, I still can't utter the questions I have.

I can hardly think past the first two.

Would you go back in time?

What would you change?

Would you go back in time?

What would you change?

The questions are echoing, followed by answers I am not ready to admit, I'm not certain they are legitimate.

Yes. I would go back in time. I would change a lot.

I can't admit what I would change.

Perhaps that's why my hands are still shaking.

Exhaustion is setting in. My emotions are far too close to the surface for comfort. Forgive me for this emotional purge. I took someone's advice and felt sorry for myself--something I have not been willing to do in a long time. It almost makes me feel... better.

If you could go back in time, would you?

What would you do differently?

Now it's your turn to answer.