I was having some very painful feelings. Pain that I felt way deep down, from a long long time ago. I picked up my pen to begin writing, as I always do when I’m alone and in my feelings. I heard the One Republic song play in my head, “it’s too late to apologize”, they sang . And then I just started writing names. Names of all the people who gave me pain, from birth until today. I heard Alanis singing “Versions of Violence”. In my head. I turned the song on and put in my headphones. I turned it up loud and thought about each of these people. I pictured their faces. Looked them in the eye. Saw them as people. The closer I came to now, the less the pain resonated. I became scatter brained. I had to stop and do something else. Now I am thinking about it again. Listening to Alanis, still. She’s playing those tapes in my head again.
“Tapes”
Yes those tapes I hear in my head. Controlling my feelings, still to this day. I have been running from those feelings since I felt them. Forced to stuff them down in order to be ok.
This is me, not being quiet.
I do forgive them for not understanding me. What I have a problem with, is how they’re behaving now. I can no longer tolerate the presence of people who insist I be incomplete. This is my life. This is who I am. I have been wrongly labeled and underfed. I am perpetually an unconventional kid. I am intense. I am kinetic. I am unusual. I am healthier than I have ever been in my life. People want me to be sick, when I have cured ALL of MY OWN pain. I deserve to be treated as I am. I have been misread, but I am no longer blind. I know what I know, and I trust myself. I no longer believe what others think about me. That’s what makes me, me. Perhaps some may best tolerate me from afar. I honor those feelings as I honor my own..
These versions of violence, sometimes subtle, sometimes clear. And the ones that go unnoticed, still leave their mark, once disappeared.
I release the pain and anger and resentment and beliefs I adopted from these people and cut all cords connecting me to them. Past present and future.. I forgive you for all of your versions of violence. I let you go and set myself free.
So be it. Blessed be.