the last time I recognize your name
Today is the last time I name you Bria, because you do not deserve to be spoken aloud. I am disgusted when I think of you because notions of my own self worth disappear.
I can say with clarity, I hold back stepping into my power, and fully accepting the reality of my greatness, because you called me "crazy", gaslit me till the end of time, and ghosted me as if I didn't exist.
On December 8th, 2016, you told me to reflect on my life. Reflect on my shortcomings, how I was failing, how I was miserable. I was very suicidal and you knew that. I was trying and trying to step away from that edge, and you pushed me to a point where there was no coming back. i did what you told me, as well as society did: intensive therapy and psychiatry. you couldn't handle the trauma i was going through or the pain i felt, and was addressing, but essentially telling me to kill myself? unforgivable and beyond the scope of words.
But somehow, my god, allowed me to live. I was unconscious for days. And when I woke up in the hospital, I kept calling you because I was alone and didn't know what happened, just fuzzy memories. You never answered when I was in the hospital, but I got through that. When I got out, we acted like nothing happened. Still in a relationship publicly, online. And when I asked if you needed help with something, you asked why, as if we weren't in a relationship. Without a formal breakup, I never got closure. You were right though, we weren't. Relationships are intentional and loving, and I couldn't remember a time dating that was like that. The emotional abuse was there since the beginning but I didn't know that language, and didn't listen to my friends.
Even after your friends harassed me, I was still in denial that you really enabled me to die, and alone. And when still in denial, you gave me hope for room to talk.
In that grief I took full responsibility and control of my life. I accepted that regardless of how I perceive my self worth or the worth of others, it will not promise respect or reciprocity.
Have you ever wanted electroshock therapy?
When you know your brain is fried?
the desire to forget?
When I think of that time in my life, it makes me want to risk it all, just to never have met you. But I've became such a better person because of your abuse because I know the worth of my life. It's worth so much more than you, your ugly friends, your dandruff, and your institution.
The pain in having known you - in the reality that I put you on a pedestal above all in my life, as someone so cruel, abrasive, and uncaring of their 'partner', I lied to myself thinking I could be who you wanted. But in you being ableist, I could never be that basic bitch you desired.
I haven't been suicidal since 2016, but I have been on edge, I have been severely depressed in times. But if I had killed myself, you would win, you would have been validated into thinking people like me are 'weak' and deserve to die.
So, to think that I live in spite of you is incorrect. I live my life fully and unapologetically because no one holds me back from what I want to do now. I consistently challenge myself, and do not live in fear. I surround myself with people that love me, and accept me for who I am, [dis]abilities, passions, past life trauma and all.
I don't need you in my mind, and I can't wait for you to leave. I can barely remember what you look like any more. I remember what it felt like to love you, very selfless, and one sided.
Ugly people [on the inside] lead ugly lives, and I was just one person inflicted by your violence. I used to imagine the day you would call me up for forgiveness. Would I try to take you back? Would a pretend you didn't exist and not answer? Regardless, would it trigger me into being suicidal again?, questioning self worth?
I can answer that now. not because I hate you and know you are underserving of my time, attention, or love, but because I am in love, very much in love with myself and life. Plus, to supplement that love, I have the love of my partner, my life long friends, and my mentor. I understood your pain, your projections, but you made it an effort to inflict yours on me. I understand pain well, but not the violence of inflicting it. That's your shame.