Unfortunately, they’re back.
Within the spate of 48 hours I noted how rapidly my energy levels had depleted in their presence. And in the past two weeks I’ve found myself submerged in tears of hysteria; having cried more in these past days than I had in months.
That sweet sense of liberation plundered, replaced by lowliness. Dignity, once again adrift, vanished.
I’ve been offended, prodded and poked at like an animal confined in captivity. And like an imprisoned animal I feel.
In their eyes, I’ve been critiqued “constructively”. Yet all their words serve as taunts that further humiliate this desperate fool.
There were melees about the kind of food I’d purchased in their absence; like an unnecessary can of chick peas and the bags of chia seeds remaining in their pantry, appropriating valuable territory. I’ve been shamed over consuming a homemade hot dog for lunch or for indulging in a slice of cake at 3pm. Just yesterday I was condemned for remaining in bed at 7:15am.
I can’t live like this.
I breached my limits months ago. I have nothing left in me.
And it feels like all signs point to no.
That the only future I have here on this earth is one I do not want to fulfil. One that involves being a 30 year old still living at home, secretly moonlighting as a writer, holding herself back because she is just not enough.
I have hope but hope feels as imperceptible as everything else I pray for. It’s hard to hold on when there is no tangible proof that things will work out, when all you seem to find is that the road will remain perpetually rotten.
And those dreams of mine! The same ones my heart has been yearning for over ten years now. So what’s the point? When does this end and get better? Will it even get better or is at as I fear, as “good” as it gets.