D is for ..........

I'm twenty five years old, I've never been kissed and have never been in love, yet I've experienced heartache.  No matter the kinds of heartache that exist, from my life happenings I've come to find the heartache of hating oneself to be the worst of them all.

As a child I was happy with a sort of melancholy streak to me.  Or maybe I just remember my melancholy moments more than the happy ones.  Either way, I know myself to exist in a realm of sadness, a world a little more black than blue.  It hurts to live there.  

No matter my bleak darkness that ensues from time to time, I've seen light.  The source of this light is more than myself, more than my darkness.  And while the light is important and is the end, it's not the current.

The D has subsided into occasional numb glee due to medication, but the black still exists in my core.  It will reside with me until the day of the light.

D took my will at times; my will to plod on and concur my decent.  With it went my self-care.  Not just my physical caring for myself, but my mental and emotional caring.  I was dirty inside and out.

I don't remember the first time it happened, but I do remember the worst and the last.  I remember feeling so significantly dirty.  I couldn't put it into words at the time, but the emotion lingered like a stench of rot.  I hated what was before me and what was inside of me.  What nails I had I used as a weapon against myself.  I peeled layer of dirt after layer off in a harsh rhythm.

Space.  It was over and all I could do was stare.  It was the worst it ever was.  Not the worst it could have been.  But worst than most will experience.  My heart was broken, but no one was at fault.  No death had torn me apart, no love of man grated and shred me to pieces.

It rendered me emotionally unconscious for what seemed like months.

My mother doesn't remember seeing the scabs one morning as she fought with me to wake up.  Sadly, I wish she had.  

The last time, I was in control; a deliberate mutilation.  But with being in control I instead of hiding in my cocoon of numb emotion, expressed the hurt to a trustworthy party.  No one have I trusted more.

It all will be part of the blackness within until the day of the light.

D became my world.  My everything in a sense.  We search to identify with something and I just so happened to identify with Depression.  I was no longer me, but D.

I've since identified with D as a past lover.  Someone I still know oh so well, but harbor strong, negative emotions toward.

Now I sit in wait of the day of light.  Change is happening and it is beautiful, but it sure as hell is hard!