This Ends With Me.
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This Ends With Me.

Short story of coming to terms with the complicated grief, haunting memories and family trauma.

This Ends With Me.

Sometimes I wondered why families continued on if it was for people who kept having kids to give them a chance to make up for any past mistakes or lessons not learned from the previous family members and maybe when they finally did their family would find peace. At least that’s how I felt growing up. Always wondering why me?

Why can I see through my eyes and no one else’s? Why am I feeling certain things when no one else is? I always questioned everything. I grew up to be very observant and quiet. I analyzed everything and everyone around me. I remembered emotions and faces, the fire burning behind brown eyes, or the tears being held back. I remember the physical pain, the pain I never got to experience but the pain others did around me. I remember it all. I felt like I was cast as an extra in my life. To observe but not to be a part of it. At least that’s how it felt because deep down I knew I was avoiding the truth.

Is that why I always tried to find peace in others? Relationship after relationship I was looking to be saved or feel safe. It wasn’t until I was 24, and more developed and educated on myself and life, that I found real love. Once I realized it was in me the whole time that when everything changed. I found out what I was running from and it was myself. Me. Because I am a part of my family and my family is a part of me. Everything I saw growing up I still remember I hold onto it like some quilted blanket, patch after patch, designed in detail taken time and you can see the story and emotion behind each and every one of those patches. Each other represented a day, a year, a month an event that occurred. The emotions are so deep and so intense that when you take even one look at it, it gets you. Your heart feels like it’s being grasped by the hand of God himself, your eyes are frustrated because they don’t know whether to cry or look away, your mouth hangs open and your face starts to swell. Your blood vessels become more dilated by the second and like the floodgates of heaven, you find yourself no longer suffering from the drought. You’ve looked at it long enough to learn and listen, to recognize and realize all the pain and suffering ends with you.

Just like healing from a physical wound the pain still lingers for a while, whether you like it or not. You start to second-guess yourself, you feel guilty and ashamed for your decisions. But what about the others? But what about you? Leaving that environment feels like leaving your younger self behind, as you climb into the car and look back all you see is a young child who looks exactly like you waving goodbye, with sorrow on their face. But after you make the decision your anger begins to set in, you're no longer near the environment, how could they do this to me? It's okay to be upset, actually, these feelings of anger have always been there hidden behind closed doors waiting for the day to finally shine through and confess the truth. After anger comes sadness and after sadness comes melancholy. So what now... Now you realize that you are not the wearer of the blanket you do not need to walk around carrying those heavy burdens, and you don't need to feel the guilt anymore but what you do need to do is heal and recognize that this doesn't need to go on forever. It ends with you. So do it for you, and for those who come after you so they never know the pain you've carried for so long.

Just because you don't remember doesn't mean I don't.

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