Where It Began

Some nights don’t belong to now…

They arrive without knocking.

I’m still here.

⸻

Where did this pain begin?

Was it a moment or a year?

A door I closed too early

Or something I carried here

A smell, a word, a certain silence

And suddenly I’m not around

My body learned lessons too early

Before I had language or sound

I trace it through old versions

Faces I used to wear

Some were brave, some were breaking

Some just learned how not to care

⸻

I kept asking for a sign

Looking outward every time

They say, “It’s over, you’re safe now”

But safety doesn’t clock out on time

⸻

Which version of me is strong enough now

To sit with the truth and not shut it down?

I don’t need answers wrapped in blame

I just need to know my name

I’m still here, somehow

With a heart that learned to hide

I didn’t break—I adapted

In a world that takes from the inside

⸻

I’m emotionally exhausted

From fighting ghosts that never left

From proving I survived something

That still lives inside my chest

I flinch at kindness, brace for tone

Read rooms like survival maps

I learned love with conditions

And silence filled in the gaps

They ask why I’m guarded, distant

Why trust feels heavy to hold

They didn’t live inside my skin

When “no” was ignored or controlled

⸻

I don’t need pity or proof

Just space to breathe my truth

I don’t need to be who I was

To honor what I’ve been through

⸻

Where is safety when the world’s too loud?

It’s not in the crowd—it’s inside me now

I’m learning to stay, not run away

I’m growing into a new phase

I’m still here, somehow

Learning how to feel again

Teaching my nervous system

That this moment isn’t then

⸻

Some wounds don’t close, they soften

Some scars don’t fade, they guide

Healing isn’t clean or linear

Sometimes strength is drawing a line

Peace isn’t loud, it doesn’t rush

It waits for me to breathe

I can thank the pain for teaching me

Then choose myself—gently

⸻

So this is where the pain began

And this is where I take my stand

Not against myself—but with

Every part I once dismissed

I didn’t disappear—I stayed

Not healed, but awake and real

Still tired. Still healing.

Still here… somehow.