30 years of absence

I recently made it to 30, and I feel like I lived half of my life without actually living it.

Some of it I was a mere spectator. Couldn't decide anything, and I felt so disconnected from reality due to what I was living I isolated in myself the rest of my life.

Now, at 30 years old, I feel the grief of a life that I never could live. A grieve of a death without a corpse, without a coffin, without a funeral.

I wish I could have lived as a normal girl. The correct life. To have received the love, care and affection that every person deserves.

But as my father told me, I'm a lost cause. No matter the abuse, harassment, SAs and other types of violence I suffered in my childhood and adolescence.

No matter the marginalization, abandonment, betrayal, mockery, ridicule, humiliation, or any other aggression that undermined my self-esteem.

No matter the neglect, manipulation, beatings, more abandonment, hair pulling, threats, screams, blows, destruction of the little he had, and everything else that was done to me at home.

I always knew it was my fault. I was always a lost cause. As a classmate once told me, "You're unnecessary."

It doesn't matter how many times I apologize for existing. That's not even what they want. They don't want me to die or take my own life either.

They've already shown me that when I try, they get even angrier and blame me even more, calling me selfish, that I only think about myself, that I always want to attract attention.

All people want is to see me suffer.

It's the punishment for my existence.

I'm still here just by inertia. Not hope, not strength, not magical love and friendship... just everyday life...

I got to some point that I don't expect salvation anymore.

I would say that I will die some day and soon forgotten. But the truth is: I'm already dead and I was forgotten so long ago... only not physically...

I walk and mourn like a ghost. The world seems to move around me, but not towards me... like fading away. Feeling so far from touch. Just nodding, silently, and staring with empty eyes.

I know that no one will care. That nobody will light a candle for me.

As someone once told me, "To me, you're already dead." And yes, sure I am.