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Post new topic   Reply to topic I Don't Want to be Loved
Chu
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 PostPosted: Fri Feb 03, 2012 12:38 pm Reply with quote        
It was about a year ago that I really started facing my inner demons, and most of them fed off of the pain left by my dad. Lately I've been struggling a lot with not only those memories from my childhood, but with my relationships with others. I've realized that the security that I feel lacking in my relationships is really just a vulnerability that I'm trying to blame on others. Here is a piece that I wrote today, but it is just too raw to share with the people I love. What do you think?

It's definitely a stream-of-consciousness piece, written while I was trying to decide whether I want to take my medication today. Recently I revealed my past to a relative, and all she really said was that I'm loved so much... It came about when she asked why I stopped believing in God, and I replied, "I don't know... It's just that... I repressed so many of those memories from childhood. How can I believe in a God when I can't even believe in myself?"

And yes, I did take my medication. It's Sertraline, by the way, for PTSD.


I don’t want to be loved. When I tell my story, people always tell me that I’m loved; they always tell me that they’re sorry. Well, when betrayal hits you so hard that you’re knocked off your feet and into bed – crying and wondering why, why, what is happening and why – love is the last thing on your mind. And when they tell you that you’re loved, the word becomes tainted. The feeling itself is never the same. Because when you’re loved, not only by him, but by any other man, woman, or child; when you’re loved, why, why, why comes to mind.

There is no love without pain – and there is no pain without fear. I don’t want to be loved. If I’m loved, then I’m hurt, and if I’m hurt, then I’m reminded of him. I don’t want to be loved because love opens you up – and I’ve been opened far too wide to not feel the hollowness that he left inside. I don’t want to be loved because I loved him – and to me, within that love lingers hate. And I don’t want to be loved because love is unconditional – and I know that no matter what, I’ll always love him, and always forgive him for what he did. I don’t want to be loved because love makes me sick. Love makes me sick and mad and desperate for control. Love makes me vulnerable and powerless and stupid and blind. Love blocks even the most painful thoughts to preserve a pleasant whole.

I want so desperately to love. Within vulnerability lies trust and security. To love can finally ease my transition into my future. I want to love – but please don’t love me. I can trust my love, but I can never trust yours. I love so much – so openly and endlessly – so that you will never have to love again. I love deeply and dearly so that you never have to answer it. I love because I know that I can always love – but I can only doubt yours. I love you, but please don’t love me. I cannot stand to lose my love again.


Every day that I take a pill I’m reminded of him. I skip some doses, you know. To go a day without thinking of him is heaven – but to go a day without medication is hell. Hand-in-hand, like love and hate, they go together. To recover, I must suffer every day, but to remain as I am, I will suffer even more.

I can’t swallow those pills easily, you know; I can’t swallow my feelings either. They remain constant and powerful, like the presence of my trauma within my mind. Nothing exists without pain, and this is something that I have become accustomed to. Swallowing is just so unnatural; it is to repress something deep within you. Along with that pill – shoved deep into my body and absorbed into every thought and crevice – his presence exists. I try to push it deep within me, but the deeper it goes, the more pain I feel. Those sick, twisted memories and feelings persist, no matter how far down it goes. Each and every day I take that pill, I realize how much of me it consumes, and how much exists for him. Each and every day that I take that pill, I pray that I’ll never have to take another one again.


I absorb everything. Like a mirror, I am a reflection of my surroundings, but I absorb them as well. To take in is all I know – it is all that I’ve been taught from birth. To accept, to love, to hold and to cherish: these things are all I know, and they were all taught to me by him. So the next time you say that you love me for those things, remember that you love me because of him.

_________________
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