The realization of being sick was like barreling into ice cold water
Lying in my bed from dawn till dusk was the norm
The deep feeling of utter despair was as typical as a stomach full of butterflies
The constant weight of heavy eyelids was just a bad night's sleep
Or a bad week
A bad month
A bad year
Sadness became my schedule, and I followed it to a tee
Depression became my comfort
It is the one constant in my life
If I were to get help, if I were to get better
Who would I be?
I learned to hate myself before I learned photosynthesis or geometry  
I am wrapped in a blanket of hate and grief that I so badly want to shed

But if I let that blanket slip

What part of me will possibly be left?

I don't believe every person has one soulmate

I think they have hundreds

The best friends who care about you when you can't care for yourself

The woman working at the deli down the street who always gives you a dollar off your sandwich because she knows money is always tight  

The man working at the bookstore who sets books he knows you'll like in the back so no one else can buy them

The little girl at park who's face illuminated with joy when you played hide-and-go-seek with her

Soulmates are not one person out of seven billion

They are everyday people

Ones who take the time to make your day a little bit better

I think I love you
But not in the way a daughter should.
I don't love the thought of you
I love you because you raised me
I love you because it is my obligation

I think I love you
But then I hear someone yell or a door slam and I'm thrown back into the abyss of my childhood
When you put your fist through my bedroom wall
And called me a ***** before I knew what the word meant

I thought I loved you until I saw my friend's father
He went to her ballet concerts and watched her soccer games with delight
And when she missed a goal he gave her a hug anyway

I thought I loved you
But only because you say you love me

Don't call me pretty

I am not pretty

I am a warrior molded from hot iron

Beaten down to conform to a shape

To conform to a number

To conform to a scale

I forgave the people who ripped me apart

I crawled tooth and nail out of the ashes that trapped me

I get up every morning with a purpose to change

So don't call me pretty

Because I am so much more

You are allowed to be angry.

You are allowed to be angry that you missed out on childhood.

That the sound of a slamming door terrifies you.

That the slightest touch of a hand makes you flinch.

You are allowed to be angry that it took you years to be able to look at yourself in the mirror.

You are allowed to be angry at the way you were treated.

You are allowed to be angry at people who hurt you.

You are allowed to be angry.

Sometimes I wish you were never apart of my life.

But if it wasn't for you, what the hell would be left of me?

Would all of the cuts and scratches and scars disappear? All of these ugly, little things that tell my story would simply evaporate?

It's because of you that I can tell the good days from the bad.

And it's because of you I appreciate the small things.

I appreciate smooth roads because I've driven on rocky.

Some days I close my eyes so tight they hurt. I beg and I beg and I beg that when I wake up, all of the bad is gone.

The memories.

The hurt.

The ache.

But I open my eyes and I'm still just here. So I exist.

And some days, that's all I need to do,

Simply exist.

I never learned how to heal

I learned whiskey from *****, and love from fear

But I don't know how to pick myself up after I fall

Or fix all the pieces that someone else broke