I am not her….

I’m not her… 
I’m not the one you seek, the one you imagine lazy Sundays watching old movies whilst naked, slightly hungover sex with cuddles in between. 
I’m not her, the princess, the high maintenance eye candy on your arm, who will sit gazing at you in awe whilst you and your friends tell stories of old and reminisce of your younger years. 
I’m not her, the 9-5 girl who goes out with friends and giggles to stories of others misfortune the mean girls of the world who bully and persecute the different women who choose not to follow the drones, we don’t fit into the eyebrows on fleek and perfectly manicured nails or the strangely popular resting bitch face. I’m no worldie, no love island, no champagne coke whore. 
I’m not her, I won’t live in your pocket expect you to pay for my lifestyle. I wont lavish on your achievements or boast of our love or materialistic lifestyle. I won’t seek likes for pics of you spoiling me or show off on Insta or FB. 
I’m not her, I won’t check your phone or demand your passwords. I won’t ask where you are or are going. I won’t want to know your every move or who you talk with or why you liked a pic of a girl. I’m not interested in your past or previous relationships. I’m not jealous of ex’s or the time you must spend with the children you have. 
Sounds perfect almost untrue but this is the girl I am. 
I am however her!!! the girl who won’t allow you in… the girl who does not understand how to be loved or love again, the girl who is crippled with an unbearable anxiety with pain, self doubt, fear of rejection and low self worth. 
I am her, who is loud, I am her who masks her past, who will ridicule herself in case anyone else does it first. Her humour and banter is on point she lives for the laughs, riding life one day at a time not allowing a day to go by without falling asleep exhausted by the roller coaster of physically and emotional energy she spills out to forget what goes on inside her troubled mind. 
I am the girl who sees the past the pain and feels her heart being ripped out over and over in her dreams. The girl cowering at the hands of a narcissist and wondering why she was never going to be good enough for him. 
I am, the girl who looks into the coffin and sees his exit and entry wounds where the 9mm round sliced through his brain like a hot knife through butter. I see his tears, I see his pain, I see his 3 children stood at a grave I see a mother paralysed by pain her face almost stone to the loss of her first born child. I see a family shattered into pieces from an act that was no ones fault but the condition that haunts me now and will until I can finally learn to love again. If ever!!! 
I am the girl who cries alone, I am the girl who sits and stares! I am the girl who reads to experience different worlds and writes to understand her own. I’m the girl who struggled to love her own children she rejected them for a short time whilst the disease she now calls her “old friend” infected her mind from rational thought. I am the girl who thought they would be better off without me as I stood at the edge of a London tube platform wanting it all to end. 
I am the girl who woke up blurry eyed confused about the tubes in her arms, machines, lights and strange noises…. I am the girl who has sat with countless doctors and counsellors the prescriptions and medication that as soon as they left I threw in the bin or spat on the floor. I am the girl who sought help from her comrades not strangers she needed the guidance from those holding the same pain, fear and anger. Very few can relate to the repetitive nightmares we experience or reminders and triggers. 
I am the girl who won’t chase, who won’t beg who can easily walk away from any given situation, place or person that makes her feel anxious or unwanted. I am the girl who won’t stress about trust or worry they may wonder, cheat or reject. I am the girl who has felt all and subsequently feels nothing anymore from it. 
I am the girl who cant think of anything else other than her obsession with the gym her medication her therapy of training away the anxiety built up from long nights of disturbed sleep, the love for her children but the fear she can’t be the mother they deserve due to the constant worry of not being perfect for their every need or does not sleep in bed with them just incase she scares them with her screams or night sweats. I am the girl who is incapable of love only the love for her children and close friends that’s all she has left. I am the girl who will not commit as I truly do not believe in relationships other than family. 
I am the girl who is to never return to her old self again, changed, damaged and riddled with trauma. I don’t want or asked the be fixed I have developed my own strategy for self help I am numb and this is where I feel safe. This is my haven, my world my go to place. I only ask that people understand my coping mechanism I don’t ask to be fixed. I respect the kindness to want to help. But I can’t appreciate it and will only push you away if you try. 
I am the girl who is broken…..

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