This pain in my chest, the crushed dread of failure and weakness, it hurts.
All the nightmares, tears that fall unexpectedly from memories suddenly screeching in my head, it hurts.
That depression, that deep dark hole that buried me inside at sixteen, it hurts.
The fear that it's all my fault, my two younger siblings dropping out of school following my example, it hurts.
Knowing that despite the comforting words, no one has ever been proud of me, it hurts.
Understanding that my father never wanted me, realizing that it bothers me than I can ever say, it hurts.
Hearing that your dreams of singing is worthless, that not only do you not have the voice but no one would want to see such a fat ugly woman, it hurts.
Trying to find the strength to hold on, the strength to not slit your wrist or pull that trigger, it hurts.
Picking up different interests to salve the wound of your broken dream just to stop because of the voices in your head saying you'll never be good, it hurts.
Laying in bed, staring at a ceiling with a blank look but vicious thoughts, it hurts.
A sudden crack in your chest from your own body betraying you, killing you from the inside out, it hurts.
Searching for the light inside of the cold grip of dark, tugging at your hair until it falls and screaming until your voice is gone, it hurts.
There are so many things in this world that you can't fight and it hurts, but keep going, whether at a walk or run, just move and remember how much it hurt.
So in the end, you'll know that it was all worth it.
