...I broke free!!!

Scars, what are scars? Scars are a mere ghost of old wounds, someone might say. That is accurate. For a person to have a scar the wound needs to be healed, but not healed enough in order to leave some traces. That confuses me. Because then I cannot understand what emotional scars are. If scars are “healed” wounds, how come our scars can be poked and become part of lives in a vivid way again? Truly healed wounds don’t leave scars, I believe that. However, truly deep wounds cannot be healed, especially emotional ones.

I open my eyes, was it a dream?
– No Larissa!!! –
I hear that little voice say in the back of my head. What is that? I look at my right arm, only to see once again a red mark on it.
– Oh, no. I blacked out again. –
The burning pain starts to catch up with my awakening. I look to my front and the she is, eyes burning with anger and apparently waiting for a response. I don’t know what to say, I have no idea what she was saying anymore. If I say the wrong thing the future is clear, I need to focus
– What does she want to hear? –
I ask myself, my little friend says…
– I don’t know, I blacked out with you. Be careful! –
Ouch, I feel another hit, but this time there is no black out, just her voice clearly ringing in my ear:
So, what do you have to say for yourself?
That’s when I realize I need to be fast and say…
– You are right mom, I need to study more –

while I tell myself: why? I only made one mistake... why like this?
She throws the wrinkled booklet back at me and I go to my room. Back on my bed, I tried to memorize a social studies booklet, looking at the paper through a curtain of water that gave no sign of stopping. My heart pounding on my chest, the burning red marks throbbing on my forearm.
Next day, I am ready for school. She comes to me and asks to take a look at my forearm:
Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. But you know you need to study more.
- Yeah mom, I know - I had heard that before, a few times...

I’m at school, another day around people that I can’t seem to connect with. One more day around people that really doesn’t care if I am there or not. I hear my only friend say
– We just go to go through it, let’s just survive this -

Oh, my bed. That’s all I can think of, the only moment truly mine. The moment I can feel free, not happy, simply detached from it all. The moment I don’t need to feel like myself.
When I come to think about it, there is no myself in that scenario. I don’t really know who I am, the opinions I have are not my own. They are just a mirror of hers. Hell, who does she think she is? Why can’t I be me? Why can’t I at least try to find out who “me” is? Whoever that might be I am sure I would be much happier than being someone’s shadow.

Who the hell is the person living in my skin? I try to find out from time to time. I feel her coming out at times. Trying to laugh naturally, make some jokes, be herself for once; but that’s when I feel her eyes on me. Those burning eyes, her mouth does not need to say a word. Those eyes, they say it all. They sing an opera, an epic. The story they tell is not a happy one, they tell the story of pain and constriction.

I shouldn’t let “me” out, noooo not here where people can see. I’m better off being her shadow, while she brags to her friends how proud she is of her little robot.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but it takes time to get there, lot of time and pain. A lot of obstacles were crossed; a lot of self discoveries were made. The journey of self discovery is a never ending one, I know that now. But I have to be who I am and live my life. I broke free, yes, I broke free.

I have to admit that the person that cast that shadow on me for so long wasn’t the same when I finally could fly solo. She changed, she gave me room to change and grow, I realize she did the best she could and I do not fault her for it. However the pain is there, the memories are there and there is a scar. She calls me selfish for having broken free; she calls me selfish for having let her behind and for coming after “me”. I might be, I don’t really know. I don’t regret it though; I am the one who needs to live this life, not her. I can’t be that shadow anymore, I can’t hide “me” anymore. I don’t know how much of her I have in “me”, I think she is an amazing person and I am proud to have her in “me”; as long as it’s “me” and not her shadow.

I broke free that day, I left her behind. I had to leave her behind and I still need to fly a little more before I can look back. I still hear the “selfish” coming from lips from time to time. It hurts and I have to control myself not to let the shadow take me over and make me throw myself at her mercy and plea for forgiveness. I won’t apologize for believing in “me” and I have to keep flying. I broke free and I will never let “me” go again.

*****I know... this is not like my usual... but, again... I AM NOT the usual... get used to it :)