My Only Question (2)

There is one question that haunts me day after day, but the answer never comes. Installment two. The section after Origins.

I don't know how this happened.

This place I am in is so dark. How did I get here? I should know, shouldn't I?

But I don't know. I don't know anything anymore.

Who am I?

My name is Rachel. But what does that mean? After all, a rose called by any other name would smell just as sweet. Or just as bitter. The name holds no identity, no meaning.

So I'm back at the beginning. Who am I?

When I wake up in the morning, I immediately feel regret. Regret that I awoke. That tight knot in my stomach, that only sleep can repress, returns and I am thrown into despair. So I turn on my side, curl into a ball, and lie there. Numb. Eyes staring, unseeing.

If it were up to me, I would never leave. But I have promises to keep. The day must be faced.

I stand in front of the mirror, but what I see... What do I see? That isn't me. Who is the girl in the glass that looks back at me? That girl with disheveled light brown hair and sad, sad hazel eyes couldn't possibly be me. The girl who cuts herself isn't the same as me, the woman who studiously makes her way toward a Bachelor's degree. It couldn't be that I am the girl who starves out of hatred toward herself. I can't be this girl who won't tell a soul how she feels. I don't want to be the girl all alone. But if that's not me, then who am I?

I know how I see myself. I see myself as hideous. A being that no man would want to hold for a second, let alone for the rest of our lives. Nobody would want to give their company to such a disgusting creature. I wouldn't either.

But when someone finally cares, I'm terrified. I'm too scared to face the moment when they will leave. So I keep them just beyond the walls. Too afraid to hold on, but too afraid to let go. Kept in a purgatory, a different hell, until they've had enough. Then they leave, just like the rest. They always leave. And I'm left alone again, in a place I don't belong, to think about my shortcomings and to think about who I am. But the question still haunts me, because the answer is unknown. Yet I repeat it, an obsessive mantra in my head, over and over...

Who am I?

"I hurt myself today 

To see if I still feel. 

I focus on the pain,

The only thing that's real.

The needle tears a hole,

The old familiar sting.

Try to kill it all away,

But I remember everything.

Everyone I know goes away in the end.

What have I become?"

~Johnny Cash

Author's Note

Like Origins, this is not for pity. Please refrain from comments trying to "help" me. I don't want any charity.
The thumbnail is not my photo.
Other than that, have at it! Thanks for reading.

Reviews

[Ohhhwillow]

This is written well - you have a knowledge of human emotions that many so not. And if this is you, well, I guess it's true that the most intelligent of people are the most inclined to depression.
Without a doubt you have talent, however I'd definitely try to see how you can vary it up a bit. Distress is all very vague without précise detailed description, colours amd shapes and flowing imagery, you could carry se which you have places on, even! :) if you are going to write about it at length that is maybe try to think further about visualisation!

Anyways, I think you are definitely onto something here,
And I f*cking love the Johnny cash quote at the end!

[Rachel Anderson]

Haha, I'm so glad you liked the quote! That's pretty much my favorite song write now. It's so beautiful. Yes, I agree I'm very vague in this piece. I explained a lot of my vague points in the previous entry entitled Origins. In this particular one, I wanted to focus on how lost I feel, rather than how I got to that point. The chaotic technique is a mirror of my emotions. I do see how imagery would help, tho. I'll try and find ways to improve. Thanks so much for your honesty! :)

[quinfinn]

i have dealt with the periods of self loathing all my life. i reach out to others for support and love. it isn't always available, but i persevere. this story is a sad testament to that malady. you have penned it well and, therefore made it palpable and real. clever.

[Rachel Anderson]

Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it.

[Tricia O'Brien]

Beautiful
I dig, you have a talent for sure. Beautiful imagery

Trish-

[Rachel Anderson]

Thank you, Trish!

[CreativeStroke]

This piece was so raw! The power and emotion behind every word really gave this piece its fire.
I think a lot of people struggle with an inner battle within themselves. Longing for human connection and close relationships, but scared to fully trust of let down your guard completely. It takes time to heal pain to the heart.
This was a great write Rachel.

[Rachel Anderson]

I agree. Thank you! :)

[icelandicblue]

I think that many of us look in the mirror and wonder who that is staring back at them. We all have inner lives, many of them tortured. We deal with it in different ways. We want human contact but that brings an intimacy we can't navigate our way through. When our inner lives are public it always invites gossip and whispers, how can others understand what we don't always understand ourselves.Be assured they have inner demons too. To feel, or to not feel that really is the question. This is well written, it feels very raw and honest.

[Rachel Anderson]

Thank you very much. :)