my healing journey

Archive for May, 2013


Always searching for approval

but never my own.

Someone else’s opinion

Is always more important.



Bending over backwards for others

Couldn’t even do the same for myself

Always 2nd class



Live a life apologising

Never heard the words sorry myself

Apologise for hurt caused by others

Good for nothing.




Never live up to others

To her – to him –  everyone –

elses happiness first


Disgust. Not deserving of happiness.

Confidence zilch.



No priority for me.




These were the books I bought to help aid success

The books that symbolised recovery

The books that symbolised struggle

These are the books that now show failure

The books that show regret


The empty pages symbolise no education

No fulfilment of dreams  –







–          Failure

What do you do when it is only grades and marks that create your being?

I cannot pass the test that is life

Yet can pass irrelevant examinations

That is true failure.

my father

My father

I met these guys and they were all like my father.

Not in way of looks but in way of life.


Some were short some were tall, some were skinny , some were not.

Some were white and some were black.

Some were handsome, some  were not

But they were all my father.


I met one who used me

I met one who guilt tripped me into having sex

I met one who threatened to kill me

I met one who left me in my darkest hour

I met one who humiliated me

And I met one who treated me as if I was a trophy.


They were all abusive.


They were all my father.

They were all my mother


I met a guy who was alright

He wasn’t perfect but he was alright.

He told me he was honest, but all I saw was my father.

He was nice to me, but all I saw was my father.

He cared about me, but all I saw was my father.

He said he would never hurt me, but all I felt was my father


I pushed him away and insulted him. I became my mother

I picked on his weak spots and I became my father.

I drank, and I became my mother

I was cruel and I became both parents.


I cried and I became nobody.

who am i

i don’t know who i am anymore.

i used to be independent and strong, now i spend my days under a duvet wasting away in my bed whilst my skin flakes away and sadness takes over.

i don’t draw, i don’t read, i don’t write, i don’t learn.

i don’t go out.

i bitch about other people behind their backs

i cry on the phone to other people.

i’ve become clingy

i have no confidence.

all i want to do is sleep.

who am i?

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