Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

This is a very raw article. My transparency makes some people very nervous, but I have learned that knowing I am accepted by God is all that matters. I am not looking to be accepted by mankind or any particular individual. I am an unique person created in the image of God, just like you and every other human. What makes me a little different is that I was raised in a horrific childhood home and in order to recover I learned to face the good, the bad and the ugly in me to press into the pain and discover the beauty. I am not happy everyday, but I do try to be real. I wrote this one day when I was struggling: ____________________ Photo Credit: Katey Smothers I just want to die. So many times I have felt this way. Everyone else and certainly myself would be better off if I had never lived and if I no longer existed today. Still I wonder "What does it matter if I live or not?" Right now I feel: I am useless. I will never to able to do anything productive. No one wi...

Window opened. It flew in. Pretended pretty, Helped to win. Less than one week, Turns to frost. Burnt and hurting Aches the loss .

Icy surface fractured, Cracked fissures, broken, Again, In many places. Many things shape us - broken ice woman by killersmemo DeviantART Fragile, cold, and hard, Flat edges, touched-- Seeps  The one healing bleeds. Softened sometimes, Within, burning heat, Deep And Pressured without. Hear the same tune, Cycles the jukebox, Spins Playing the encore. The ice pick hits, Grates and shaves-- chips, Flakes, Chisel shapes the form. Purpose unseen is known, By One Mind Above, Works Together For Good. She skates across, A well-worn surface, Gone To make her own mark.

Leave me alone, I am in pain. I don't need to be around people, I am in pain. People hurt me, I am in pain. I do not get hurt by books, by food, by clouds and rainbows. Or cats, and clothes, or trees that blow in the wind.... No,  just by those I think are friends. People hurt me; they don't understand me. My arms feel so heavy underneath, I know this is the first sign of overload. My heart has a hole, pierced one to many times in life. My eyes are filled with drops of sorrow, sadness and regret. My mouth is tight, clenched, frozen, no words want to go. Why am I different? Why do I have to hurt so much, all the time, so easily, by so many.... So many days, so many people, so many ways. When does my cup of torment forever filled up to be more than "enough"? Is it because I so love You, God, that I am such a target of your enemy? "But you have not endured blood sweat tears," the wise one jeers. "God will never give you more ...

Have you ever felt like you don't fit? Nobody likes me. Why was I not included? How long did it take you to figure out that you are different? The calls never came. You didn't get invited. They went without you. You just happen upon a notice.... and you didn't even know .... you offered to help, but no one called you back.... you wanted to minister, but you are avoided....you asked to give a testimony, but your offer was declined... Not now. No time. We will call. I'll get in touch. Thanks, bye... (silence.... permanent silence) What is wrong with me? I am a reject. People act all loving... they pretend to like me... they say I am nice, but really, I know I am not their friend. When they get together with friends ... to go do something fun... to share a special occasion... to visit, to enjoy, to talk, to hang, to know...... I am not invited. Sound like a whiner.... who cares? But the problem is.... am I different.... no that is not it?  Is there someth...

What is happening? Get OUT! I said, "Get out!" Why did you abandon us? You don't care. After all we have done. Why did you leave? Bet you think it will be nicer, easier, and you will get what you want. You will pay. One day. You will be so sorry. Mark my words.... you always were a loser. I know you wouldn't amount to much. Get OUT! I can't take you anymore. I don't care where you go. LEAVE. You let everyone down. You just cut and ran. Didn't even say, "Goodbye!" You are selfish, always. Looking out for number ONE. Why don't you think of your siblings? I need you to take care of them... I mean, they need you.... look up to you.... They will know now and forever that you didn't care. They will always remember. You couldn't handle it so you left them.... you didn't even care what happen to them. Who do you think you are? Shut the hell up. Leave my face? You were a mistake... Why can't you speak up? Why don...

Is this your life? When you are shattered in life, like a crystal vase that has crashed on a hard tile floor, you are splintered into little parts - some sharp as a cutting edge, others blunt and a few chunks that just wouldn't break any smaller. We go about life trying to "be normal" if we can... to fit in, to not draw attention, to not be 'a problem', to wishfully be swept away... But very rarely do the broken pieces in life ever come together... Why? With so many hurting people, so many who have been taken advantage of, who have been abused or used... why do so few find healing. I think it might have to do with what we are willing to endure, what cost we deem too much to pay... and how much we love. Cost and love - an odd duo. Love can't be bought, but it costs more than most of any love newbie would imagine. Sacrifice, selflessness, delayed satisfaction and so many similar lessons must be mastered in transforming ... in becoming capable of lov...

I don't know why I am so drained? Nothing is wrong... no sickness, no big problems (we all have the daily little stuff). It is more of lifeless, empty, (I hate to say this) BORED. Out of my heart flows His Words..... Yeah, yeah, I've said it before, "Bored? I will give you something to be bored about." Many think if you set goals, work, plan, go.... you can avoid it. The truth for my life is I am not purposefully plugged in to doing what God created me to do. I am like an artist without a canvas, a fashion-designer without fabric, a chef without food. But sometimes I do have the supplies: the canvas, the paint, the brushes, the fabric or food... and what I am lacking is a place to be visible. I can paint a hundred canvases but if not one is ever seen - what purpose is my life? I can design closet filled with outfits but if one is never worn - why exert the effort? And I can make the most appealing meals with the finest of ingredients, but if no one ...

I am so sleepy. I am so sad - sorrow runs like a rapid crashing into rocks, whips past trees, no life is safe in nature's way. Splintered, shattered, bobbled brain... bouncing, rolling to a thud - STOP. So close, yet so far away. You missed it... You should have... You lost out... You would have... We know what is best. God set it up. We know the mind of God for you. How Tragic! You were offered what you needed, but you walked away. Fool, frightened little fool. It was there for the taking but you crumbled... you couldn't walk, you couldn't talk.... you wept, you hurt, you froze. If only you did it our way.... "Have it our way"  Loser! We all gained, you lost! We all embraced, you are left alone. BUT WHY? God why? If it was You, why did I dare not go. I did not hear You calling... All the warnings blared into my soul.... "it's a trap" "you can't trust them" "they don't live in reality" "they desperatel...

Every time I try to be a mother... I try to guide, direct, lead... I am treated terrible. I don't know why you God made me a mother. I am not at all cut out for this. I have tried. I have failed. Nothing I do is right. I am ignored, disrespected, despised. Why am I here? I am certain someone else could have been a much better mother for my children. This is not a pity party statement - it is a statement of truth! A rare fool could have done a worse job then me .... and they probably would have been appreciated. I don't handle rejection well. Does anybody? It appears that other children listen and respect their parents. Is this true? Are is a just a charade everyone is playing? Is the Emperor Really Wearing no clothes in every home, and families just pretend they are real.... or Do real functioning families exists? I do not want to talk about it anymore. I am sick... I was going to say I was sick of it, but in reality I am probably really just sick..... I am one flew...

SWAT! ow, ow, ouch - that hurts.... words slap into me I cheer, I smile, I express my emotions. SWAT! why? slapped again... stares, eyes roll, silent words of "she's weird"...."cuckoo"....it hurts deep inside. I gleefully make a comment, fully engaged, enjoying the moment in life. SWAT! SWAT! their eyes slash through me....hurtful, hideous eyes What is wrong? Why can't I just be me? I might be different, can't help it, it is who I am. I am different. Why can't people be kind and accept me? The pain runs over....the gruntle-scream roars out of the deepest ravines of my being....and I cry, I cry, I cry for years of pain....and I cry, I cry, feeling quite insane...and I cry, I cry, accepting who I am, and I cry, I cry, remembering my grandmothers that were the same..... Did anyone hear them when they cried out in pain? When the electrodes were attached to their bodies and the jolt roared through their bones....did they cover up their screams....was an...