Coming to Terms

I should have wrote this ages ago. 

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If you read this don't ask questions. Don't tell others. Don't pry. But you can comment...

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It was sometime in June when it happened. It was raining. The sky was grey. Life was shoddy. I can't remember when all the pressure started building up. It was just there. Me being bad at everything, me being fat, me being not there for my him, me being this, me being that. Why couldn't he get anything right? Why wasn't he helping? Why? Why? Why? The fact that my parents were drifting wasn't good either. We as a family were falling apart. What was new? Another dysfunctional family incident. But that wan't true. It could get a whole lot worse. It happened at my his's basketball game. I was reffing. I didn't watch. I couldn't. I didn't like watching my him play, he never got the ball, he was to strategic at making plays in his head, the other boys couldn't catch on. They lost. Thrashed. Smoshed. By a lot. She was angry. Very angry. Shouted at him, shouted at me. 

Why couldn't you be better? I'm not proud of you. Why are you even here? You don't belong here. I'm ashamed of you.

She screamed in the car, all the way home. I can remember the silent tears streaming down my face. The whimpers of my him, the stony face of him. It rained harder. Sometimes I wish that the car could of spun out of control, killing us all. But it didn't. She stormed out and broke everything.

The plates.

The knives.

The forks.

The photos.

The guitars.

Everything.

We hid in the shed.

We couldn't go in the house for the next hour. He cleaned up, china and wood strewn everywhere. 

She was a nervous wreck. She stayed in bed for the next week. I went to training. I broke down. I cried. It was embarrassing. I was ashamed. I hadn't had a breakdown for the last couple of years. 

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It's been 3 months since this happened. I couldn't tell anyone. No matter how many times they asked. I still can't tell anyone. But at least I have come to terms with it though blogging. 

This has made me stronger than ever before. I've learnt how to better keep my emotions in check, creating a stone wall. No one can get in. I won't break. Not for him. Or for anyone. No one will understand. And he is too important. I will be happy and he will be happy. I'll protect myself from others. It will be OK. My feelings will become second. I know this is a twisted way to fix things but it is the only way. No one will ever know, how it was. There shall be know evidence apart from the distant, twisted memories, all those days agon. I shall just keep this as a reminder of the insanity that I have been through. I will not cut, I will not change. I shall grow. This is a promise.  

The End.