Quite often I wonder about myself.
Given the environment in which I was raised, it amazes others as well as myself that I hadn't committed suicide, or caused harm to my family or animals, or have been one of those bullied kids who punished their school by setting off a bomb or shot rounds of bullets at my enemies. I'm glad I didn't have access to a gun or had the ingenuity to create a bomb with household items. I was angry and sad more often than I was happy. I was beaten, poisoned, physically and mentally abused. I often wondered 'why is he doing this to me?' I cried so much, that he called me sissy more than he called me my name. Even to this day, I am emotionally diminished by the mental abuse he inflicted on me. I believe the mental was worse than the physical. It is through God's grace that I have never been arrested, that I have never inflicted harm on anyone that I love, that I never had to set foot in a police department or insane asylum for anything. I give honor to all the speech pathologists/ counselors I met with, from first grade through 12th grade.
Though at times I feel I'm coming apart at the seems, I get up every morning and I go to work and make a daily attempt to exceed the expecations of my manager. I am gentle, and I am loving and I am kind, and open to all people. I know how it feels to not be wanted, to be treated like an after thought, to be treated like shit. Is your soul tight? I'm not sure about mine.
