Diary Entry 14 February 2021
It built up over days, weeks and months. It is indescribable. No words will be good enough to explain it. My ability is not enough to properly describe what had occurred.
I awoke on Thursday (the 11th February) after a long, uneasy, dreamful night. I forgot about everything I had dreamt the more I woke up from sleep. I had no memories anymore of the colorful pictures I had experienced clearly just a few minutes ago. The only thing I realized was that I needed help. During this night I was clearly shown I needed external help.
I didn’t feel good about it, but I knew it was necessary and I was ready to make that step. I felt a little uncomfortable with the thought of telling mom, but if I wouldn’t do it, then she wouldn’t get help. So I did exactly that. I told her and wanted to say more, I just didn’t know exactly what, yet. There was no opportunity for me to continue talking, or better to say, when she left the room, I couldn’t bring myself to say that I wasn’t finished yet. Maybe I had hoped she would notice I wasn’t finished yet. I had hoped she would stay when I started crying. But I expected too much. It was all overwhelming and even though I didn’t remember the dreams, they changed something inside of me.
When mom was gone, the sadness took over. The feeling of loneliness grew inside of me again. I couldn’t withhold the tears that burned on my cheek. They were present and I felt helpless. I had no idea what I should do. I had no strength to get through the school-day. I felt fully hit to the ground, I didn’t know how I should manage to stand up again.
Without eating breakfast, I went upstairs again. I couldn’t pull myself together to get ready for the day. I sat down on my bed, with elbows on my thighs and hands against my mouth. I let every tear drop. I felt ripped into millions of pieces. The last thread was cut through, I thought.
Mom came into my room after a while. I felt how she was annoyed, as she came in with a moan. This wouldn’t end well. She came over to me, hugged me and wanted me to calm down. But I didn’t do so, I didn’t want to suppress the sadness like I had done a few months ago, which lead to this very moment where everything burst. She became even more impatient and forcefully let out her words in a way I would understand: “This isn’t you, you are letting the monster inside of you win. Stop bawling and screaming like that. It hurts me!” she demanded when I didn’t stop. I didn’t care about the monster. I wanted to cry. I wanted to let it out and she didn’t help me with it. “Stop crying right now! It’s pointless! You are waking up everyone else in the house!” How great, thanks, that helped a lot. To make me cry even more. In the past she always said the same thing. I was a child. A fucking child who was locked into its room by its mother and was in the worst pain when the mother didn’t come back for it, even when the child screamed at the top of its lungs. The child felt alone, forgotten, unloved, and abandoned. The mother didn’t notice, didn’t see how the child was being torn apart. All the child wanted was a hug from a mother that was simply there for it. Even when the child pulled away from the hug, it just wanted its mother to be there. But when the mother never showed up, the child decided not to want the mother. Why would the mother only return when it suited her and only then hug the child. She wasn’t there when the child almost died of pain. She wasn’t there when the child needed her the most.
She came into the room and expected the torn child, full of pain, to just stop crying. The mother demanded the child to be quiet, so she didn’t have to feel pain herself. The child wasn’t allowed to cry, because it would hurt its mother in her ears by doing so. It really didn’t matter to the mother, how the child felt. Even the loudest screams, the longest cries, weren’t enough for the mother to realize how much pain it had put the child in. She couldn’t withhold her own pain for the child, she went out of the room and left the child behind with Nothing.
I didn’t understand why she hadn’t learned. How did she not learn from the past that it was wrong what she did? “You are not helping, no one is there for me” I cried. “Who did you become! How can’t you see everything I am trying to do! I just simply can’t be there for you! Why do you think I have such immense stomach pains? Do you know what, I don’t care. Give me back everything I have ever given you!” My past became my present. In front of my eyes, exactly that happened which had happened in the past. She started gathering my things. I couldn’t believe it. That is an understatement. I knew what would happen next. I didn’t recognize my own mother anymore. She wasn’t my mother. She wasn’t someone I knew. She didn’t love me. She had learned nothing of the past. She tore open all the wounds I had ever felt in my life. I cried harder. I didn’t know something like this existed. All the pain came together. And that’s why I had the power to scream as loud as I could with my entire voice: “STOP ITTTTTTT! STOP IT! MOM STOP ITTTT!” I went into the very back corner of my room, where I was usually to be found lately, as mom left my things alone.
But she wasn’t finished with me yet. “What!?? What do you want? You want someone to hold you and just listens to you when you just talk shit?! You are not living in reality anymore! Leona! There is no person like that! Do you want to wait here forever until the perfect person comes?! Just go outside and find yourself some friends! You are just not letting it happen! You will never have someone the way you imagine it!” And what I felt there is indescribable. No words are enough. I was nothing anymore. I didn’t exist anymore. The only thing that kept me alive was the hope for my future. It was that I will someday have someone who will hold me, whom I feel at home with, and I can help other people. With these few sentences my ‘Self’ was destroyed. ‘Me’ and everything about me was shattered. “What are you doing? Who are you?” I bawled out. My worst nightmare – which I never had – came true.
“Now you can see what it really feels like to be alone! I am leaving you! From now on I am never there for you again! You can never come to me again and I will never try to help you!” I felt totally bare. So abandoned as never before in my life. “What are you doing?!!!” I was completely alone. What have I done? What have I done? I thought over and over again in my blood-pounding head as more tears shook through my non-existent body. “Do you think other people don’t have problems? It is always just about you! You are not going through anything others haven’t gone through either!” She screamed at me on purpose because she knew how much I doubted if I am going through a harder time than others or if I am just exaggerating. With the words: “I am never coming back!” she left my room. Forever. Mom admitted she was saying and doing everything on purpose so I would finally wake up. She did it on purpose so I would see the truth, – of what I had become. She purposely gave me the fault for everything. She screamed at me because she claimed it to be the right way, so I’d reach reality. How could she do that? Who was this woman? She wasn’t my mother! I had told her this morning I realized I needed help, but she still did this to me. She abandoned me as a mother and threw the worst possible things at me, so I would wake up. But I was awake. I knew I needed help, but she still left. She still shattered the only hope I had left inside of me for a future in the human world. I felt eternally and completely alone. Abandoned. And lonely.
Once she wasn’t in hearing distance anymore, dad already stood in my room. I was supposed to stop crying so loudly. I was supposed to fully stop crying. The entire house and the whole street could hear me. Did I care? No. I didn’t want my sisters to be afraid of me, but everyone demanded me to stop. How could I stop? How was I supposed to stop? It wasn’t possible and they didn’t understand, so I continued bawling loudly. He took mom’s side straight away and defended her saying how “no-one talks to you that way” (the way I told him mom had talked to me). I didn’t listen and didn’t live in reality anymore. The more he talked, the harder I pressed my stomach against the corner of my room. With every word, he pressed the already lost-inside-of-me knife further into me. Until it was fully through me. He continuously blamed me, – for everything.
He claimed I should change, I have to get help. I was being controlled by him. I wasn’t allowed to do anything, decide nothing. He continued talking for two hours. He wasn’t nice and friendly, he was mean and sometimes he raised his voice because I didn’t listen. He claimed it was all just my thoughts, that I could easily be happy, that I have an easy choice!
Most of the time I thought about – well I don’t know… about mom never coming back. Dad laughed at me and said mom didn’t mean it that way and I am dumb to think she truly meant it. He is an asshole. ‘What have I done? What have I done?’ internally banged off of my scull, as I externally hit the wardrobe and tried to press my body against the wall to finally disappear.
Nothing happened. I was stuck and was tortured further and further by my gruesome reality. I wasn’t allowed to leave and every time I said something, dad laughed at me for how childish I was. I just wanted someone to listen to me. But no-one understood. “I could just die, it is easier for everyone” I sobbed with a high, loud, raw, dried-up voice. Mom had spoken aloud everything that should’ve made my heart stop. But it didn’t. It banged hard and painful against my chest. My breath stagnated in my dried-up lungs. I could die. I was ready to go. I had nothing left on this earth. I saw no reason to live anymore. My future had been destroyed. No-one loves me. I don’t matter to anyone. It would be easier for everyone if I were to disappear. I simply wished to die. I wished to disappear from the horrible human world. I waited for my death. But I was disappointed. I was still alive.
I felt like a pig in the slaughterhouse. The hunter throws hurtful things at the animals, and they bleed to death more and more. When I wanted to leave my room, I wasn’t allowed to. I just wanted to go, even if I didn’t know where. I was held captive in the four walls of my room. With not a single way out.
I didn’t see an end to this and I had forgotten about school a long time ago. I couldn’t grasp the thought how no-one in my school or outside of my house or outside of me – knew what was currently happening to me. Not even my parents knew how I was feeling. I didn’t matter to them. “If someone would’ve told me in the past that I am not living in reality, it would’ve opened my eyes”, yeah right dad. Right. If you would sit in a hole like me and someone would tell you that you’re doing it wrong, as if you would listen, as if that would open your eyes. As if that would help. Just shut your mouth. Just go away. Leave. Leave me alone. Leave me. Go away.
He said again and again that I am holding onto the past way too much and that I should live in the present moment. He said the past is the past and I should stop always going back there. But I have all this pain from the past. Due to the past this is currently happening. And mom and dad haven’t learned from the past, so it is obvious that I am somehow still living in it. Nothing got better and nothing was erased. The past brought me to this moment and therefore it’s influencing my future. Past-Present-Future are all in the same boat, all connected, there is no pause or end.
I didn’t know how I would continue living. I didn’t know what was coming. There was nothing in existence for me anymore. I didn’t want anything anymore. I wanted to die. Then my poor sisters and my stupid parents wouldn’t have to bear my bawling anymore. Which they have already made clear to me they can’t do. They believe what they are doing is right. They think what they say is right. They really know nothing. They have learnt nothing. They make so many mistakes. How can one think they are doing something right when they are putting their daughter in so much pain. Oh, right, they don’t know it. They don’t see my pain. They probably think I am crying of nonsense. They probably think I am exaggerating. They probably think I am a toy that has to continuously be tortured so it wakes up. But they probably don’t know that toys don’t wake up, they just fall apart and break. How can one think you are doing everything right? How can you not see the mistakes you made and continue to make? I thought my parents were smart. I thought they were good at learning. I was really wrong.
My room felt as big as a galaxy, but as small as an ant, as I stopped bawling and screaming from one second to the next. My lungs burned and my eyes were dried up and bloodshot. The crying suddenly stopped and all I did was breath heavily. In between a tear escaped me, as dad finally disappeared and mom said: “Amy and Alana aren’t doing well at all, they can hear everything, just like the whole street” to my dad, as she came back into my room.
Why did she come back now? Did more horrible words come to her which she could say to me so I‘d fall over and die? Or does she want me to continue living as a human with all these pains? I couldn’t stand anymore, I was dizzy, so I sat down on the bed.
She wanted me to be quiet and listen to what she had to say. She had understood everything differently than the way I meant it. That frustrated me. I didn’t want to blame them for everything, I simply said how I felt and what it was like for me. Was I supposed to lie and keep it all inside of me or what? She continued talking strictly and it didn’t feel like she was my mother. She was so far away, even though she was only distanced a few meters away from me. I couldn’t grasp that this person was my mother. It couldn’t be true. It frightened me.
At some point she stopped talking and it was finally my turn. I told her I had purposely decided not to have any friends. I have tried – Rina, Awin – but it didn’t work. The more I opened up to them, the more they hurt me. I told her I decided a few days ago, not to want to see any angels, so later on I can show ‘normal’ people they are special even without extraordinary abilities or special, inhumanly gifts. I told her my pain as a seven year old child or even younger, and how it influences the present. Whereto she said she already apologized, but that doesn’t help. I still felt the pain. I told her how she destroyed my only dreams. That she took away and extinguished the only hope left inside of me. The only reason I get up every day – for my children, my husband, the people I can help later on – is gone. She still claimed it is difficult to find someone like this and when you cling to your dreams so tightly, you can only get disappointed. What an asshole. Thanks. It really helped a lot. Why can’t you just hold your mouth and let me talk. To this I just told her how sometimes I can’t believe her and dad are my parents and before she could back-answer, I said she shouldn’t take it personally, but it just is this way.
We both didn’t know how it should continue. She wasn’t my mother anymore and I wasn’t her child. She was scared to come back into my world, and she didn’t know if she even wanted to.
I asked her if I’m really not going through anything difficult and if I will not help people in the future now. She answered with the statement that I do have it hard. But it didn’t satisfy me, because she can easily take it back at the speed of lightning.
Mom told me I have arrived at the end of the hole now. I am at the end, because when you are at the end, you realize you need help. Everything was still hurting me, and I haven’t forgiven anything. I just couldn’t grasp the concept of why she screamed all those things at me today, even though I had realized beforehand I needed help.
All I ever wished for was that she was there. Nothing else. She didn’t have to help, understand me or find a solution. Just simply be there for me, – that’s all I had asked for.
I continued feeling so abandoned and alone. I didn’t want that. I wanted mom in my world, even if I didn’t show it. She confessed she couldn’t do it without me. Even if she is scared to come back into my world, she claimed she had failed if she were to give up on me. She couldn’t leave me. The pain was still present and would continue to be present until I work on it.
Before I let mom come to me again, she promised me she would never say something like that to me again, – what she said to me today. It wouldn’t immediately be like it was before, maybe never, but a child needs its mother in some kind of way. She said she loves me and she could never truly leave me, because then she could simply die herself. I just stayed quiet, as she hugged me.
I tortured myself through the school-day with heavy eyes. I caught up on everything I had missed and it was a helpful distraction.
Dad apologized in the evening. He explained how he isn’t good with words and if he hurt me, he didn’t mean it that way. He doesn’t want me to die or kill myself. He claimed, they could preferably take him instead. He apologized from the bottom of his heart and I felt that. The only thing I answered with was: “Thank you” before he kissed me on the forehead and left.
Without asking me, mom and dad made an appointment at 4pm on Friday (the 12th February). It annoyed me how they didn’t ask me first, but I didn’t have the energy to talk about it for long. I knew it had to happen. No matter how nervous or scared I was, I think it’s better now than never.
4pm approached and I was very nervous. I had no idea if I’d even get anything out of me. I often forget what I want or wanted to say when I am nervous. My rational brain-half gets taken over, and I lose my train of thought. During the Zoom call with the psychologist it happened once, but I felt comfortable with her right away and the nervousness was quickly exchanged with a feeling of being understood.
It felt so good simply being able to talk to someone. She was so open, nice and understanding. With her I felt much more comfortable and relaxed than with the other two I had spoken with. Finally, someone is there for me. And because absolutely nothing is ok at the moment, I have an appointment again next Friday with her. I thank you! Yours, Leona!
