It started 2 July 2009

Its a scary thought to realize you no longer recognize yourself anymore. 

You wonder and question how you could have strayed so far from the girl you once were; or, when it really was that you began to wander down this destructive and undesirable path you seem to have taken. 

I’m 21 years old, and I can’t see myself, who I once was, in the mirror anymore;

I can’t fall asleep without desperately clinging to my memories of times I went wrong.

“You’re so different now.”

AKA What happened to the girl we used to know and adore, and why do you have to be the one to replace her?

The girls who once knew me so well – better than anyone in the world – I drifted from; returning years later, only to discover nothing was as it once had been, nor would it ever be close to it either.

They tell me I’ve changed; but really they want to know how and why I became such a different person. 

I wish I could tell them. I wish I could explain it. 

Because, then at least I would know, too.

“That child is a different kind of person, don’t ever break her spirit”

“Oh, don’t worry – [childhood nickname] is indestructible.”

But I wasn’t. I’m not.

I think back; racking my brain; screaming and demanding for answers, but I only receive silence. 

Then, a faint whisper, delicate and accusatory. It invades my mind. A younger, but stronger and more free-willed person than I’ve been in so long, “you broke my spirit, you rattled and shook me off. You don’t deserve them – the ones you love. You don’t deserve anyone. I did – I do; but not you, not ever you.”

I’ve lost myself. 

I’ve lose my precociousness, my confidence, madness, joy, appreciation, sense of identity.

Who is this person I have become?

Who is this monster that lies and fears; not only what lurks under the bed, not only the world at large. More than anything, this monster within herself and whom she has become?

I saw a piece of myself again, once. But, I lost it and have only spiraled even more heavily since.

I recognized my change in attitude, spirit, eagerness, curiousity, creativity. I witnessed the looks of disbelief and disappointment in the aversion of an eye, the slight tug of a frown, the pinch of a cheek, the twitching furrow of a brow.

How have I lost myself so badly?

I’m afraid.

Afraid I’ll never live again

I’ll never love again, or be loved 

I’ll never grow and experience again

I’ll never laugh and care again

Since I’ve disappeared; in so many different places, they have called me a psycho bitch.

I could never understood. I couldn’t fathom why or how they could feel so strongly in such a hurtful and spiteful manner.

But even I can no longer hide from who I’ve become, who I now am.

How did I lose the identity that set me apart in the best of ways?

How did I lose the girl with a never ending supply of laughter and love?

And, how do I get her back? 



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