Numb

Dear Diary,

Look inside my eyes. Do you see it? The pain. The emptiness. It never leaves.

The therapist says that over time everything heals. I think she lies. I think that deep down she knows that this wound will never heal. That there is no hope for me.

You know how physical abuse wins others’ pity over emotional abuse? They’re wrong. Your body can be beaten over and over again, but eventually it heals itself. Unless you die, of course. But death seems too easy an escape for those who suffer from emotional abuse. I don’t care what anybody says; you can’t heal a broken soul. You can bury it deep within you, and blanket it with a cautiously sewed mask, but it is always there. It lies dormant and waits for you to let your guard down for one second so that it can trample your already worn and submissive heart.

I look at other people’s lives. I watch them laugh and smile, and I wonder if any of them are like me. Do any of them feel this loneliness that sometimes overcomes me? Do any of them feel like they just don’t really belong?

She told me she doesn’t want me. She told me she doesn’t love me.

She told me I’m sickening. She told me I was a mistake.

I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could just go into a coma. My soul and mind could rest for a few years until everyone has forgotten about me. And then I can wake up and start over. A new life. New friends. A second chance.

Sometimes I wonder that if I were to disappear right now, would anyone even notice I’m gone? Or would they notice but just not care? That question scares me.

But something is happening to me that I cannot explain. I’m starting to not feel anymore. The pain. The emptiness. It’s there, but I can’t feel it. It’s like my body has grown used to the routine and has gone numb. And that scares me the most.

Sincerely,
The Girl Who Jumped