“It is quite an unfortunate experience that you had to go through but this is nothing new as it happens even here and it took place the previous year too. Unlike the year previous year’s victims, you are lucky that the school through the IT department was able to provide a spare laptop for you. You should be grateful.” I was deeply hurt and embarrassed. I wished I hadn’t come out to report the incident because it only created more wound to my already sour scar. I wished I wasn’t placed as a point of reference to such victimization. That day, seated at the back of the room, I increasingly became uncomfortable with being associated with an issue that was socially normalized.
There is nothing wrong with being a point of reference as people learn from each other. However, there is everything wrong when these “lessons” are used to downplay your emotions and feelings. I have learned to live with the past that taints how I view life. As a result, I have accepted myself as a lesser-than individual. It’s easier for me not to wear a smile on my face, so as to avoid pleasantries such as “Are you okay?” Wearing a smile attracts unnecessary attention as people around me take it as a cue for a conversation invitation. It is less painful when I wear a frown on my face as people already see it as a put-off sign. Hence, I sweep my trouble underneath the little thing I still own; my pride.
At the end of each day, I crawl back into my bed and cry myself to sleep. Not sure how the tears that wet my pillow every other night help my situation, but I allow myself to let out the pain with someone who would not judge me for my emotions. The mere sight or the thought of medication gives me goosebumps. The drugs that were meant to relieve me from pain are now triggering the pain instead. There are days that I wish I could take one year at a time instead of a day a time. There are nights I question the reason why I take that deep breathe one after the other. Is it so bad to want out? There are nights that I wished the monster will not sleep in my head but rather under my bed. As a result, I am no-longer that regular mobile woman anymore but rather a woman sleep-walking her way into another emotionally tied year.
Over the years, I have always prided myself in making the right decisions in regards to my life. However, for the first time in my life, I choose to question if I made the right decision in pursuing this path. Was it a mistake or is just life taking a different turn? I don’t know when the ache in my lower part of my left chest next to my diaphragm will allow me to let go of the chip in my shoulder. I subconsciously wear that socially acceptable “gratified crime” on my neck and assume it as a basis that everyone will use as a reference in place of my identity.
(Save it. I am not here for the pity-party)
I do not expect that the world would reward me for failing to shield me from this pain that may have been rooted from self-esteem. After all, the world never owes anyone anything, isn’t it? I know my feelings of pain and anger are genuine but maybe I have grown a sense of entitlement that makes it difficult for me to let go of the chip on my shoulder which continuously hurt my already wounded scar. Will this chip on my shoulder ever depart from me? This is a question that I desperately wish I could find an answer for it if not a remedy to it.
P.S: Don’t call in or text to ask “are you fine?”
brenesombere 