Since losing my parents I have had issues dealing with loss and grief. Sometimes, even in the middle of class, I will find myself crying. Sometimes just a few tears, sometimes like the falls at Niagara. If I hear someone say "I'm so sorry dear," one more time. It has been six years and the wound is still open. I have taken down all of the family pictures, thrown out all of their clothes, gave away their furniture, I even have forbidden my sister to mention them. What makes all this worst. I haven't shed one tear over my mom. Well, not anymore. I don't miss her. Does that make me a bad person?
My dad, on the other hand, I miss him a lot. I can't get him out of my head. He haunts my dreams, and every time I do. I cut. I'll wake up in the morning covered with blood. My doctors say I'm lucky to be alive. I don't remember these incidents, and that scares me. My sister even sets her alarm to come check on me in the night to make sure I'm okay. It's a terrible way to live. I'm not a strong person. The only thing that keeps me going is school. I excel in school.
What I miss. What I need. Is human love. I have mentioned elsewhere that I had stopped going to church. Even so, the church has still cut me off, even friends don't talk to me. I've been excommunicated. I'm sorry I gotta go...
Until you're broken, you don't know what you're made of.
It gives you the ability to build yourself all over again,
but stronger than ever.