Psyche logo

Awakening

by LEANNE RANKIN 3 years ago in recovery
Report Story

An Overdue Process

I was the girl with a good heart. I was the girl that stood by those I loved no matter what. I was the girl who had her heart broken one too many times by exes and friends. I was the girl who got walked all over, made excuses for those who done it and continued to let them do so for far too long. I was the girl everyone ran back to when they realised they needed help or lost everyone else and I was the only shadowing reminder left of their life and authentic self.

But that girl died. Well, actually, I killed her. I laid her to rest in an imagined coffin cut out of perfectly clear glass just so I could go back and check on her once in a while to make sure she stayed there and as a harsh reminder to myself of everything that I will never be again. She is also there for visitors, on occasion, when needed, to sneak a look at, for those who hurt her the most, just to remind them of how they had a helping hand in her demise. They should not be proud nor pleased with themselves. Shame is all I hope they feel.

She is surrounded by all my favourite things, things that helped me get through the pain and hurt caused by others. My darkest artwork is there to comfort her, artwork that only I seen, my poetry that had been written with trembling hands, my collections of thoughts I had written down whilst venting and releasing the agonising torturous pain. Pages upon pages covered in smudge marks from all the tears shed. But that girl is dead and gone.

The process of getting rid of her wasn't easy. I continually allowed my old self to be trod on, walked over, pushed to the side and ridiculed for good behaviours that were only in existence with the purest of intent. That good heart I had, well, that slowly darkened. I had to hurt myself in the process. I could no longer wake in the morning knowing I was still here and trapped, when just the night before I begged every unearthly being to put me out of my misery peacefully in my sleep. So, I tore her down. Took her to the place of the harshest form of self-hatred, self-denial, and the brink of suicide.

That poor girl sat on the floor crying night after night begging for it all to stop, all to go away. Wishing she could just die. She didn't feel good enough. Wishing and hoping if there were a God that existed, that they would strike her down so she wouldn't have to do it herself. Even in this moment, she was too concerned with everyone else. She didn't kill herself because she was too damn afraid to offend and hurt others! How pathetic is that? She still didn't want to hurt others by harming herself.

That girl had too good a heart for this world but it made her weak, it made her susceptible to shameless cretinous monsters to take advantage of her, pull her down and try to keep her there. It took months of self-loathing, slowly transitioning onto self-care and finally, an absolute epiphany of self-love. That is when that golden-hearted girl had to go. There was no more time left for that girl to exist. She was too nice. She was the perfect companion to everyone but the internal destructor of her self. She was too good for a world so bad, filled with so many ill-wishing people.

I tore her apart. I took each piece of that beautiful heart and shattered it further. Making sure every last piece was unrecognisable and would never be able to be put back together. Destroying your own heart may seem extreme, maybe even unachievable but it is possible. Doing it myself took the power and ability to do it from everyone else. I left nothing behind for others to break. In those pieces of broken and shredded heart laying on the floor, I found only two pieces I would keep. The first piece, was the soft, caring lightened side I will keep safe and close, and the second piece is the new me. A colder but sturdier version of me.

Today, I am strong. I will not be faltered or taken down by anyone else. I will not allow others to peck away at me like the little seething birds of prey they think they are. Yes, doing the hand movement of a pecking bird helps you visualise that feeling. I will not allow others opinions of me to waver me from the path I am taking. I no longer believe in waiting around for Karma, I can do that all myself thank you. I've already seen the dark and I am not afraid of it anymore.

I have finally awakened. For only those deserving, I will stand firmly beside them and love them from a special piece of heart I picked up and placed onto my sleeve, a place I have preserved for only those exceptionally spectacular humans I will let close. As for the rest of them, I am not quite sure they are going to like this version of me. This girl put herself back together again a little differently.

recovery

About the author

LEANNE RANKIN

Just a normal Irish girl trying to, and at times failing to, get through a sea of emotions and come out on top. Always looking up

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.