Diary of a broken heart

19🥀

Years back, while growing up
I didn't know what love was
It was there, but I never felt it
My dad was never at home, just only on weekends
But then, I understand. He was the sole breadwinner of the house.
Mum on the other hand was there, but never for me.
I don't know, it was hard to believe she really loved me
When all she did was scold me, fight me and even hurt me.
Every night I'd sit and cry and ask, why me?!
Why didn't she love me like the rest.
Was she training me to be the best.
But everything she did, she did only to me!!!.
The words,
The yells,
The hits,
The hurts,
Everything made me who I am today
I was scarred.
The trauma still lives on.
I had no friends. 'Cause apparently my school was far from my house and immediately after school I had to follow the bus home.
'Cause apparently my house was in a secluded new site.
Every night the walls of my room would begin to yell at me with the voice of my mother.
Saying things she was always telling me,
"Foolish girl,, you're so useless, worthless, you don't know how to do anything, your mates are better than you".
I tried to ignore them at first. So I started writing.
Writing helped. It took me to a far place of Neverland - a home for the lost souls.
But for how long could I be stuck in a fantasy that isn't reality.
Then as I grew older, the words of my mum and the voices on the wall and in my head grew stronger.
I had no will of my own. I wanted to shut the voices down at all cost.
And that was the first time I thought of suicide.
Maybe if I die, she'd be happy. After all my sister is better than me.
Maybe if I disappear no one would care.
So I ran to the kitchen. Took the knife to my wrist, and I tried to slit.
But my mum was right after all. I don't know how to do anything right. I cried that night begging myself to just end it.
In the process of trying to slit my wrist, I had a cut. Trust me, the blood rushed to my head and for a moment the voices all became quiet.
It was at that moment I found my second Neverland. A home for the lost souls.
I started to cut. Little by little, scratch by scratch, lines by lines.
No one cares after all.
My mum saw the cuts, she asked me what had happened to me... for a split seconds I thought she really wanted to know what had really happened.
And for that seconds, I wanted to tell her the truth.
But she's the reason I was in the dilemma, the reason I was who I was.
So I lied. I told her it was the dog scratches.
And she believed. She fucking believed.
Slowly, years after years, I lost myself
I lost the little child I used to be, and I became everything the voices said I was..........