Nov 2014
The storm that washes through my body should take me with it, carry me through my second story window and into the pitter patter of the streets; only my shadow should follow in passing to join the souls at night. My blood should mingle with the rain, seep through the alleys, and my body return to the dirt. I should become one with nature and understand it all from within- become a part of the intricate simplicity, that mystical earth which gives and takes away. I shall watch the world and my people, and be at peace. Perhaps my life would be taken away too soon, but I shall not return to walk the paths and haunt it's inhabitants. I shall know that I am in a better place, and that it will not get better.
Notes
Darren had said "27! You're babies, you and J. Gosh 27, you haven't yet been robbed by life yet. Besides the blemish of the deficiency judgment, you have no other blemishes. You haven't gone through nothing yet. "
Is he right? Is all the pain that stands patiently by the edge of my chest waiting to be cured, without a remedy? Will things get only worse from here? Only I know the stress and toll of what I have endured take over my mind and fears and body. I know the psychological impact it has on me, but I can't afford to see a therapist to sort out my issues or relieve my pain.
It just keeps getting harder and harder. Although the earthquakes that happened in 2011 -2013 haven't occurred again with the same intensity recently, the aftermath is still being dealt with. Is there no aid, no alms-giving, no charity to this Haiti that is me?
Will it get even worse as Darren alluded to? Aren't I dented enough? Have the storms savaged me and left me in a most pitiful state? Must I lose my brothers and sister? I couldn't handle it. More than my own life, I love my younger brothers. They're not perfect, but they are my life. I have had so little in life, that when I learned what love was- I gave them all of it. My silly J with her judgement, correctness, unknowing selfishness and innocently child-like desire to do what is right - must I lose that good soul which is my sister? My other sweet sister S who has yet not lived or been tarnished by the world, must she go before me? No, I cannot lose these people. If ever I am disfigured or ill or my body part is amputated, I will be dead for all intensive purposes anyway. I can't go through that the way other strong people can. I will live my life watching my loved ones live their life, while I rot away. However, if any of my loves are taken from me- what use is there to keep living?
My father is a mental patient as my mother puts it. Right now he snores loudly like a peaceful giant baby, but his psychosis will return again when he awakes. His insecurities and flaws robbed my mother of her childhood, and she in return robbed mine. My older brother killed my trust by repeatedly destroying me. I have a theory that a person trusts their siblings more than anyone, including their parents, because while they only share 50% of DNA from their parents, they share 100% DNA and issues with their siblings. But my own flesh killed me over and over again as I put up my hand to help him, to trust him even after he hurt me, as a little sister would- only wanting to impress him and take his pain away. Any semblance of my youth I tried to live in my twenties, but my father hunted me for an honor killing, stabbing the dreams I had within.
Like a fool, I still dare to hope of a less bleak future. I dare to see color while I am trapped in a gray whirlwind devoid of any pigment.
For a few months, I wished my father would die before my mother- because he took her hopes from her and she could not live as long as he was alive. I wanted her to explore her creativity and interests and personal choices in fashion. I want her to live and love freely, which she can never do as long as he is alive. When they found a mass in her breast, I felt that she was being cheated out of life. She should be the one to live and not remain in hiding. But I don't wish that anymore, because its too late for her to know how to enjoy her life anymore, and he is needed on earth to fix the messes he caused to us financially. He just suffers from paranoia. He is just so ******* selfish and doesn't know how to be anything else. Someone gave him a divine right to sit on his sofa and order her around, instilling fear in her with his voice like thunder. But he's never put a hand on anyone, even though she insists he was violent before I came. I don't think he was ever physically abusive, I've seen him screaming and threatening, but like me he could never put a hand on anyone else. I think she has convinced herself that he has hit her in order to excuse herself for not standing up to him. He's crazy about her.
My mother, she blames my older brother's god-*******-knows-why-messed-up personality on my dad hitting him as a child. She taught me to let everyone walk all over me because those that hurt me went through worse and can't be expected to know how to behave. I did not know my brother for four years of his life, 3-7. The rest of my life I have known him, he was never hit. I know my dad may have yelled and my brother worked hard to study- but I've never seen him hit except on a few occasions that even God wouldn't forgive him if he didn't hit my brother. If my dad did hit him from 3-7 in a serious way, then my dad is more ******* flawed then I can imagine and my brother has a reason to be half the ******* he is. But even still, nothing can explain the complete and utter disgrace to humanity that my older chooses to be.
Darren had said "27! You're babies, you and J. Gosh 27, you haven't yet been robbed by life yet. Besides the blemish of the deficiency judgment, you have no other blemishes. You haven't gone through nothing yet. "
Is he right? Is all the pain that stands patiently by the edge of my chest waiting to be cured, without a remedy? Will things get only worse from here? Only I know the stress and toll of what I have endured take over my mind and fears and body. I know the psychological impact it has on me, but I can't afford to see a therapist to sort out my issues or relieve my pain.
It just keeps getting harder and harder. Although the earthquakes that happened in 2011 -2013 haven't occurred again with the same intensity recently, the aftermath is still being dealt with. Is there no aid, no alms-giving, no charity to this Haiti that is me?
Will it get even worse as Darren alluded to? Aren't I dented enough? Have the storms savaged me and left me in a most pitiful state? Must I lose my brothers and sister? I couldn't handle it. More than my own life, I love my younger brothers. They're not perfect, but they are my life. I have had so little in life, that when I learned what love was- I gave them all of it. My silly J with her judgement, correctness, unknowing selfishness and innocently child-like desire to do what is right - must I lose that good soul which is my sister? My other sweet sister S who has yet not lived or been tarnished by the world, must she go before me? No, I cannot lose these people. If ever I am disfigured or ill or my body part is amputated, I will be dead for all intensive purposes anyway. I can't go through that the way other strong people can. I will live my life watching my loved ones live their life, while I rot away. However, if any of my loves are taken from me- what use is there to keep living?
My father is a mental patient as my mother puts it. Right now he snores loudly like a peaceful giant baby, but his psychosis will return again when he awakes. His insecurities and flaws robbed my mother of her childhood, and she in return robbed mine. My older brother killed my trust by repeatedly destroying me. I have a theory that a person trusts their siblings more than anyone, including their parents, because while they only share 50% of DNA from their parents, they share 100% DNA and issues with their siblings. But my own flesh killed me over and over again as I put up my hand to help him, to trust him even after he hurt me, as a little sister would- only wanting to impress him and take his pain away. Any semblance of my youth I tried to live in my twenties, but my father hunted me for an honor killing, stabbing the dreams I had within.
Like a fool, I still dare to hope of a less bleak future. I dare to see color while I am trapped in a gray whirlwind devoid of any pigment.
For a few months, I wished my father would die before my mother- because he took her hopes from her and she could not live as long as he was alive. I wanted her to explore her creativity and interests and personal choices in fashion. I want her to live and love freely, which she can never do as long as he is alive. When they found a mass in her breast, I felt that she was being cheated out of life. She should be the one to live and not remain in hiding. But I don't wish that anymore, because its too late for her to know how to enjoy her life anymore, and he is needed on earth to fix the messes he caused to us financially. He just suffers from paranoia. He is just so ******* selfish and doesn't know how to be anything else. Someone gave him a divine right to sit on his sofa and order her around, instilling fear in her with his voice like thunder. But he's never put a hand on anyone, even though she insists he was violent before I came. I don't think he was ever physically abusive, I've seen him screaming and threatening, but like me he could never put a hand on anyone else. I think she has convinced herself that he has hit her in order to excuse herself for not standing up to him. He's crazy about her.
My mother, she blames my older brother's god-*******-knows-why-messed-up personality on my dad hitting him as a child. She taught me to let everyone walk all over me because those that hurt me went through worse and can't be expected to know how to behave. I did not know my brother for four years of his life, 3-7. The rest of my life I have known him, he was never hit. I know my dad may have yelled and my brother worked hard to study- but I've never seen him hit except on a few occasions that even God wouldn't forgive him if he didn't hit my brother. If my dad did hit him from 3-7 in a serious way, then my dad is more ******* flawed then I can imagine and my brother has a reason to be half the ******* he is. But even still, nothing can explain the complete and utter disgrace to humanity that my older chooses to be.
