Voices of the Past

Do you have those voices too? Voices that are screaming useless things… not sure if it’s directed to you or anyone else. Saying the same sentences over and over.

What do your voices say?

Mine are screaming things like:

“don’t touch me”
"leave me alone"
"stop hurting me"
"I hate you"
"I hate myself"
"go away"
"I'm not afraid anymore"
"I will fight 'til I die"
"you hurt me"
"you have no control over me anymore"
"I wish you were dead"
"you weren't allowed to do that"
"fuck you"
"stop screaming"
"this isn't okay"
"I don't care anymore"
"please don't hurt me"
"NO!"
"listen to me"
"please just stop"
"how could you do this"
"don't let him in"
"I don't want this"
"I should have said..."

They’re all things I probably said in my life or should have said. Things I regret saying or not saying. Those were the moments in my life things went wrong, small things or big things, I'm not sure. Now they are here in my head. They might be here forever. For now, erasing seems impossible.

Sometimes I will sit in silence and listen closely. I’ll try to understand because back then nobody did. I’m trying to understand the things they’re really telling me.

Sometimes I realize, some voices are not mine — at least they weren’t said by me. It hurts to listen closely but I can’t ignore this anymore. I probably ignored them for a long time because I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t able to somehow stop the source which is creating these emotions. The people who speak, I know them. They are still in my life, I love them. I always did, but never could I stop them from having to say these things.

Some of the voices are from a little girl, she’s hurting. I’ve seen her before. She tells me a lot of bad things that have happened. But mostly she’s letting me feel bad things because she can’t really explain what’s going on. She’s too little… when I close my eyes I see her standing in front of me. Pointing in a direction. She looks like me, only 17 years younger. I want to tell her she’s safe. Put an arm around her shoulder. But I know this moment is already over. I can’t rewrite the memories. I can’t promise her she’s safe, because she isn’t and I’m not existing in her world.

She’s little and stands behind me. I look at the door she’s pointing at. But I realize I can’t open the door yet. Then I give the little girl a hug.

“Listen to me. I promise I’ll come back. And when I do, you’ll be safe.”

I wish I could help the voices, or at least the person they are from. All I can do is listen and not judge. They aren’t that useless after all...  It’s hard not to judge because that’s what growing up does to you.

But I will never forget the little girl. She is special. She deserves some love.

I guess I do too.

~written by namasté allday~