Soulmates

Chapter 59

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR MENTION OF SUICIDE DEPRESSION, MEMORY LOSS DUE TO TRAUMA, PHYSICAL ABUSE, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, PANIC ATTACKS, AND THREATS TO KICK SOMEONE OUT

IF YOU CANNOT READ THIS, IT IS OK I WILL STILL LOVE YOU

MAKE SURE YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

Magnus,

I'm not doing good. I keep remembering things about my past that I've forgotten and wish I never uncovered them. A never-ending cycle of being re-traumatized over and over again.

Then some parts make no sense at all. Like, between the beautifully interwoven webs of my psyche lay muddled mist created by trauma, making it impossible to see clearly.

Every now and then, the wind blows, clearing one part of the web, yet fogging another.

I still don't remember why I self-harmed. I don't remember stopping. One day I wasn't; the next, I was, then I wasn't again.

I don't remember Adrian hurting me, but I know he did. There are old pictures of bruises on my face, poorly covered in makeup. I don't know what I did to deserve that.

I don't even remember him dying. I just know I walked into a room, then came out. I know I was the one who found him. I don't remember what happened in the room, how long I was there, or what I felt. I simply remember leaving feeling empty.

It goes deeper than that too. I have scars along my back from before I met Adrian. Who did that to me?

I know my dad hit, but only enough to bruise. Never enough to bleed or scar. What the fuck happened that made the abuse of a bruise stay with me, but the blood leave? What fucking happened? Do I even want to know?

I'm not even surprised when the water clears because, of course, that happened to me. It's what always fucking happens.

I don't think I want to clear the water anymore. I used to, back when it first started. It was euphoric for a bit. But now I don't want to. However, I need to. Otherwise, I continue to suffer. I was normal before, then I fucked it all up.

"It's healing," they say. "To get better you need to get worse." I DON'T WANT TO GET FUCKING WORSE!

I just want to stop, but this is a shitty fucking place to stop. So, I have to keep on fucking going. It's just going to hurt over and over again, and it will take years for me to get remotely better.

Why do I have to suffer to get somewhere good--no, not even good--to get somewhere decent? Haven't I dealt with enough already?

It's gotten to the point where I wonder what would happen if I just... ended it all.

I won't. I don't want to cause anyone that pain. I've been through that firsthand, and it fucking scars you.

But still. What if?

I'm sorry. My weird-ass metaphors for my memory don't make any sense and are not--in any way--eloquent. So take Demons of Darkness by Olivia B.

She stood on the bridge
In silence and fear,
For the demons of darkness
Had driven her here.

They cut her heart
Right out of her chest,
Making her believe
That the demons knew best.

They were always there,
Sometimes just out of sight,
Waiting in the background
Till the time was right.

These demons were destructive,
Knocking down the life she knew,
Hating everything about her;
She hated herself, too.

These demons can't be seen,
But they're far from fairy tales.
They live inside your mind;
Their evilness prevails.