And the world's gonna know your name
Cause you burn with the brightest flame
And the world's gonna know your name
And you'll be on the walls of the hall of fame"
(C) Danny O'Donoghue and Mark Sheehan
I always hear the third line as: "cause you win with the most pain"
and some days.... some days....
That is how I feel.
Been "off" for nearly 2 months now. My mind fighting itself in some war I was not invited too.
Depression?
dunno.
Lost in my own mind. Made worse in December by a kidnapping.
Something very unsettling happened on a message board I write on. I have been on that board for 11 years. It has always had the same moderator. After 11 years of knowing this person you get to be friends you know? Cyber friends you never see of hear there voice and in this case even know there real name. But important to your life none the less.
Something happened at the cooperate level and in the dark of night the moderators were gone. No warning or chance for either side to say goodbye.
like a kidnapping...
leaving in its wake a holy-hell of unanswered questions and pain. There is a real person behind the avatar. Just like there is a real person on this end of the key board.
Some how it would have been easier if they announced that the moderator had died. There would be grief and closure....and knowing.
This unknowing, this awful, soul crushing ....silence, is a torture that is familiar.
The fall out of that ripped an old scab off my psyche. Leaving a ragged wound hemorrhaging. Old, unhealable pain.
Of all the things that happened to me as a child, perhaps the most damaging was being ignored. Gawd, shoot me, rape me, beat me bloody, rip my skin off with a potato peeler, dip me in burning oil, anything, but please don't ignore me.
I was four, what I did, I don't know, but it pissed her off and she grabbed me by my arm and hauled me to the back door and opened it. Tossed me onto the back porch and shut the door. I never went outside alone, the vastness of the yard was terrifying to me. I stood up and turned around and looked up at her through the window. She starred me down with cold eyes and locked the door.
Locked the door
my soul burst into tears as I tried the door knob. The fear and panic grew exponentially until I was a screaming snotty bawling mess. Pounding on the door in sheer terror.
She stood there ignoring me. Looking out the window, right through me, as if I was not there.
I felt my self shatter into fragments I felt my brain being scrambled as if she had poked in a coat hanger and spun it around blending my brain into a soupy slush.
I screamed and pounded on that door for a lifetime.
Till I fell into an exhausted mess on the porch and gasped for breath.
What choices did I have? I was FOUR FUCKING YEARS OLD. I am not wanted by the outside world, I am not wanted by the inside world.
yeah, I got your message mama.
I can be tossed out like trash.
and worse than that....you can't see my pain.
Eventually I heard the lock unbolt.
She didn't even open the door for me...just unlocked it and walked away.
Only part of me, went back inside, part of me didn't survive the porch torture.
She held a grudge and never "looked" at me again, always right through me.
So many people never saw me as a child. I was invisible and felt every so much like a ghost haunting the physical plain of man. I never tried to connect, why bother?
Every injury I would run to her for comfort. She would icily ask, "are you bleeding?"
"N-n-no."
"Then stop crying." and she would walk away.
Somewhere in her life she made up her mind that compassion was a sick emotion, and she never gave us any.
School issued in a whole new hell of bulling by others. Fools...you can't hurt me worse than I am being hurt at home.
Junior high, I come to the dinner table with a fresh cut under my right eye, bleeding red tears down my face. This will make her see me. She will at least have to tell me to go wash my face. DAMN YOU, YOU WILL SEE ME.
not a peep from her. Just that cold icy stare right through me.
I can tell you this, having a pony rear up and flip over on you, crushing yourself in a car door and having both collar bones and 4 ribs bow and break in unison, burning third degree burns into your flesh with an open flame, none of that hurt anywhere near the degree of being ignored did.
Shoot me, stab me, rape me, stone me, bury me alive...but for God's sake, don't ignore me.
Don't ignore me.
When I was 17 I backed over my little sister with the van. Thankfully the bumper knocked her sideways and just her legs got driven over. I sat in anguish in my room while they were at the ER.
Waiting for mama to come home and punish me.
She came home and nothing....
are you serious you are going to ignore me?! Your going to leave me here in this hell of pain?!! COME UP STAIRS AND SCREAM AT ME, DO SOMETHING I DYING HERE, I AM IN SO MUCH PAIN, I CAME A HEARTBEAT AWAY FROM KILLING MY SISTER!!I CAN STILL SEE HER SITTING THERE IN THE DRIVE WAY WITH FREAKING TIRE TRACKS ON HER LEGS, MY HEAD FEELS LIKE ITS GOING TO EXPLODE! I WANT TO CRACK IT OPEN WITH A TIRE IRON , SEE MY PAIN! HELP ME HELP ME. THE PAIN IS EXCRUCIATING ITS KILLING ME!
I took my knife and began slicing up my hands.
Brother runs down stairs and I hear him say to mama, "P's cutting herself up!"
I hear my mama snap the newspaper and go back to reading.
SHE IS FUCKING IGNORING ME
Nothing has ever healed this wound within me. Nothing.
Three therapist working together in years of therapy. Nothing can undo this damage.
The wound is as raw and angry as ever, unhealable.
I can time travel, I have that ability within me. All you have to do is ignore me on a scale that triggers the PTSD and whoomp...I am dumped back there on the porch and I am four years old.
My husband has triggered it in me once. Very sick he got up one morning and ignored me. No visual contact, no words to me and ignoring my words to him. Avoiding my touch. Nothing... I had become a ghost.
I would rather be tossed out in the icy yard and hosed till wet and left to freeze, rather be drawn and quartered, rather be fed to crocodiles, rather be burned alive, poisoned, or thrown off a building.
then be ignored.
In 12+ years of marriage that morning stands alone. That is the only time my husband has ever hurt me.
We are all lucky I didn't wind up dead that day. Triggered to a point of wanting to end my life, all that stopped me was the 3 month old fetus floating unaware in my uterus.
My children accidently tripped that mercury switch in my soul two summers ago. They locked the garage door as they went back in the house. I finished up the laundry and headed in.
as soon as that knob didn't rotate I was four years old. The panic instantly immersing me downing out my terrified screams. I am sure they were scarred themselves when they responded to the frantic pounding and kicking on the door and opened it to find this crazy bawling woman screaming "DON'TLOCKMEOUTDON'TLOCKMEOUT!"
I will never heal from this pain. Its is not possible to fix some things.
The removal of the message board moderator has agitated this wound.
My rational mind knows my old friend's job has changed and she is not ignoring me. But the not knowing, or closure from her "kidnapping" has me deeply saddened inside my messed up head.
Do I declare her dead and grieve and move on...or do I do what I did endlessly as a child, hold out hope that someday...someday she will see me.
That moderator in the years she has known me has given me more compassion and love then mama has done in 47 years. This kidnapping of her is more then just a co-worker switching jobs, or a friend moving away. This person can't have contact with us. There is no way for her to tell us what happened, or for us to ever know, and that creates a strange paradox of pain.
If I were a normal person, I could deal with this loss in my life.
but I am not
I am a time traveler hurled thought time and I am screaming and clawing at the door, and being ignored.
