Showing anger in my household equaled being chastised for it.
So I learned to suppress it. To suppress it as long as I could even though I felt like I was being consumed by a raging fire; torturing my insides.
But eventually, it reached a point where I couldn't hold it in anymore; no matter how hard I tried... I just couldn't.
All my built-up anger slowly turned into a rage; burning and fueling in my chest in my veins and up to my throat, feeling like I was about to explode any moment. Like a ticking time bomb that can't be defused even by the bravest E.O.D. specialist.
I wanted to throw something but didn't know what. I wanted to yell at someone but didn't know who.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs till my vocal cords oozed out blood, draining with it the anger and the doubts, but nothing ended up coming out.
So instead I just cried.. but of course not in front of anyone else.
I bitterly cried all by myself making sure my echoed sobs weren't heard from outside my room because I was punished for that too.
So there I was all alone with my rage and sadness that no one ever taught me how to manage.
Instead, they trained me how to hide it.. to hide it so deep inside in the darkness of my chest so no one would detect how much I was burning and hurting.
So now every time I want to ask for help I feel like a burden.
I feel like I have no permission to feel the way that I do because that's what I was cruelly programmed to do.
To act like an emotionless robot to people who told me they “Loved me”.
You only said you “Loved me” when you would stand over me like a shadow and hit me again and again with your long brown leathered belt; solely because I was trying to tell you how I felt...
You only said you ”Loved me” when I would gulp my feelings down in the raging blaze inside of me till they would melt.
You only said you “Loved me” when I became a trained matted dog who carved OBEDIENT on her fur pelt.
Of course, you never had to conform to your desensitizing program because you always had a right to display when you were angry or hurt; but when I would show those exact emotions to you, all I would receive were childish eye rolls and disapproving glares and you threw me a sign that I could barely sustain and it read: “BEWARE IF YOU OVERSHARE”.
So I took that heavy sign with me and dragged it over to the dark but cooler chambers of my chest so it wouldn't burn.
I ended up hanging it on my wall next to the other warning signs you've given me in the past.
But as I looked at all the signs lined up one by one in front of me; I felt defeated and asked myself,
¿Why was I salvaging these worthless heavy boards filled with red venomous untruths?
¿When will I ever be able to throw them into the scorching fire pit that's living right next to them, so that I can replenish this dark, but cooler small room with some proclamations of truths?
Maybe someday...
Maybe one day…
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Author:
Glasswing (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: August 10th, 2024 11:56
- Comment from author about the poem: This is something deep and personal, but I know I'm not alone in feeling this way. Many of us were taught to hide our emotions when we were young, and it can feel like we're carrying around this heavy burden, trapped inside. I want to share my experience with this, to shed light on what this kind of pain can look like.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
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