Does not define me.
My past does not define who I am,
And yet I am tethered to my past regardless.
I am stuck with the beliefs that were forced apon me, and I am consumed by the fibs that have grown to be my truth.
A truth that has transformed itself into my reality.
I live in the constant fog of fantasy and reality,
Fog so thick it suffocates me every single day.
I can't see what's in front of me.
I can't make out what is real anymore.
Everything blurs in front of me, and I grasp for any remnants of what's left of me.
The real me.
The real truth.
The real reality.
The real fucking world.
I'm tired of drowning in false realities.
I'm tired of crying, lost and broken from the blatant lies that won't leave me alone.
Every day they try to corrupt my sense of self.
Every day they try to get me to live this false sense of life I have believed was my home, my prison, for so long.
But the strength in me to seek out the truth is all but so little.
I am broken. Hopeless.
I've been corrupted.
Can I be saved?
Can I be rescued.
Can I be who I really am again?
I am terrified I will be lost forever.
I'm afraid I'll never know who I am.
Who I ever was to begin with.
#trauma #mentalhealth #mentalhealthjourney #abuse #healingjourney #poem






































































