ITS ALL IN YOUR HEAD

entry eight

I hate my eyes.

I wish I had the guts to just scoop them out of my skull with a spoon and be blind. Because being blind would be better then being cursed with his eyes. They get complimented all the time. Large, sparkling, long dark lashes. Like a marble. But despite their good intentions... it only makes me remember how fake it all is.

Our life is fake.

It's all a carefully constructed facade. We smiled and played the part. We never gave anyone any inclination of what you were really like, we always played to your good guy persona. You would laugh and talk as if you knew us. As if you knew me. And then scream and yell, or not speak for weeks.

You told me you wished I was never born. Me. A ten year old.

You drove recklessly on ice covered roads without a seatbelt and with me in the passenger seat. My tears and pleas to stop ignored. Your eyes blankly stared ahead as you pressed harder on the excelerator.

"This is on you. Im committing suicide because of you. I hope we get in a wreck."

That was your reply when I asked why you were doing this. And although we made it back home in one piece, I cut myself to ribbons that night. I cried myself to sleep.

But the sad thing is— that is one of three times you threatened suicide as a punishment for me.

I was never a bad child like you made me out to be. I had my own mind and wouldn't blindly follow you like I had as a toddler. And that is what you labeled 'disrespect'.

And disrespect is a death sentence.

You would laugh and talk about how proud you are of me in front of others. And then say you wish I would have died as an infant like I was 'supposed too'.

You have the rarest eye color, and you plagued me with them as well. Even though I've burned out every bit of you from my life— I still cannot escape. For every time I look in the mirror, I see your eyes glaring back at me.

I hate that I have my fathers eyes.

It's like having to confront your abused every single day.

I see the hate and the anger you have for me. And I see all that I've failed to be.

You hated me first, and now I do as well. How am I supposed to move on when you have tainted a part of me?

I have to live with my cutting scars. I have to live with the mental scars you left me. That should be enough. That should be enough. I shouldn't feel like bursting into tears at the sight of my own reflection. I shouldn't feel self hate and loathing when those eyes stare back at me.

We suffered in silence while everyone thought you were a saint. We faked smiles and nodded along as people spoke highly of you. I wish you abused us physically. Oh how I wish you hit me or starved me, or left a bruise— because then at least people would see. At least I wouldn't feel like I was imagining things or going crazy. This world is very visual. People never believe what they cannot see. So please feel free to crack my skull open and see the bruises and scars left on my brain. Please see the tears streaming down my cheeks. See the cuts and the blood running down my skin. Hear the profanities I scream at the mirror. Hear the reflection of my fathers voice echoing in my own.

Look at my eyes. They are beautiful, no?

Please take them. They are yours. I would rather walk the world in darkness then to see the disappointment in them.

If anyone read this, I would be thrown back into the hospital. So let me say— no I'm not going to pop my eyes out.

I don't have the willpower.

Am I the only one with daddy issues? It sure as hell feels that way sometimes.

Why would you bring a child into this world, only to make them so low that they try anything to leave it? Why would you stick around only to inflict harm? Why put on the act and play the part, only to turn again and make me cry? What did I ever do to you besides exist?

I was just a child when you tried to kill us that winter night.

I was just a child when you made me cry so hard blood vessels in my eyes popped and my scleras were fire red and blotchy for a month.

I was just a child when you pushed me into the ocean. Far past the barrier floats, deep and murky. I had always loved the water— but I have a crippling fear of drowning now.

I was just a child when you compared me to others. Wishing I was more obedient. Wishing I was silent. Wishing I was someone else.

I was just a child when you screamed at me. Every hurtful word permanently engraved in my skin.

I was just a child when you pushed me to the breaking point. In so much mental pain that I needed to inflict physical pain on myself.

I was just a child when I sliced my skin open. Remembering the hardness of your eyes.

I was just a child when you gave me my first panic attack.

I was just a child when I took that pen and paper when you had finally crushed me. I was just a child when I tried to take my life for the first time.

I was just a child.

I have to remember every scream, every harsh word, every beg, every cut, every moment when I look into my eyes.

When is look into your eyes.