Name or Face

I should probably introduce myself eventually. Or now? Nah. Not yet.

I just don’t feel comfortable putting a name or a face to this misery yet. Usually I’m pretty open about these kinds of things, but..

This isn’t something I should be discussing anymore. I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything I could possibly try. I’ve tried to rise over this. I’ve tried to get help, to scream at anyone, please god, anyone, please just, just help. But no one ever does, much less even respond.

There’s nothing to be said. What could I say? What would make any of it different?

I’m sad. I’m hurt. I’m abused. I’m broken. What else?

The worst part of all this is, my little brothers and sister have to suffer too. That’s what’s still killing me. Forget about my unhappiness, what about theirs? I can handle this, but… they can’t. I can see it inside them; the slow realization about our mother and what she truly is.

I want to protect them, but I can’t even protect myself.

That’s what’s killing me. That’s why I’m a failure.