If only life was good to everyone - emotional writing.

by albinabekteshi (student)

If Only Life Was Good To Everyone.

Here I am standing in the streets with this tight clothing.... ridiculous makeup.....short tight skirt. My belly is showing and it’s so cold out here, but I have nothing to live for, and need money make this pain go away. Drugs! I feel like crying a river but I’m smiling as if I’m wearing a mask. I am licking my crusty lips and slowing approaching cars that go by.

I feel deprived, manic and depressive. Every time I turn to myself and face me, I feel confusion, sadness, loneliness and a yearning for genuine care. I feel I have no control in my live, and that my life lays on someone else’s hands: How sullen this makes me.

I can hear screaming in next door. I shot the door, but can still hear the slamming of plates and glasses; I squeeze my eyes shot in an attempt to close this chapter of my life. I was only 7 what kind of life is that for a child! I can hear two voices in my head “tell someone you’re not to blame for this” and another voice telling me “this s all your fault.” I can’t take this anymore more.

I see children playing outside and having fun. Although I feel joy for them, memories take me to my ...

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I see children playing outside and having fun. Although I feel joy for them, memories take me to my childhood years, which took place mostly indoors. My abusive parents would not to let me out of the house. My peers say they have problems such as “oh I can’t believe my boyfriend dumped me” “argh my parents won’t let me go to this house party, I hate my life!” every time I hear this, it makes me think they take so much for granted, and makes me angry and irritated because they don’t know what I am going through. Yet they have it so easy. Look at me: At least they someone to talk to. I have the silence, I have the walls, I have the loneliness, the broken heart that constantly plays the bleakest of the bleakest tune. Who will believe me? I’m just a sad disgusting child who is alone.

As I touch the bruises the pain repeats in agony. I think to myself how could I have let this happen? I touch the dried out blood; the scabs are so rough as if it was representing my life, it is so isolated so hard to live in. I wondered to myself what have I done to deserve this? Then I thought it is my fault everything is my fault. Why would God let this happen? This is a punishment and who am I to disobey? I am going to let it happen. When i touch my “soft” teddy bear I got when I was 5 and I can’t seem feel the softness of it as my fingers are so numb so blistered, all I can feel as I touch the teddy is pain and agony. I just want this to end!

I am a 20 year old woman standing in the streets, watching old sweaty men looking at me. I wonder what my life would be like if I had normal parents. If fate had given me the opportunity to have a family: kids and a husband. I wonder how it would feel to be loved and to have someone there. How it would feel not to be alone. My companionship is drugs. That is the medicine of the pain that bites my bones.