She, I, We: My Story

Section 1: Serious

That grouchy girl glares when people play with her hair. Few can make her laugh. That grouchy girl doesn’t talk very much—only in her curly head is she content.

I’m a small girl that is mistaken for a doll. I am nervous around people and only trust a few with my laughter. I talk when I have something to say. My imagination gets me out of my head.

A contemplative girl’s hair curls with many thoughts, a child with an insatiable hunger to know and be known. Yet, she puts up walls thinking she is protecting those from what is within.

Section 2: Reading

That girl stays in at recess to read. We all know she’s a teacher’s pet. Later, she reads Shakespeare for fun. That girl thinks she is so much smarter than us.

I look up to the sun with tears in my eyes, not completely understanding everything, but knowing my innermost soul has been struck—a bell, ringing and reverberating. Thoughts I could never put into words are right here. I am finally awake.

Both thrilled and horrified by the settings she reads, a girl hungrily devours worlds through words. The doors of her mind open to wash her insides with light. She laughs. She cries. She grows with world’s brightest minds conversing with her own.

Section 3: Anxiety

That girl doesn’t play if she still has homework. That girl can drift off in her head with glassy eyes. She wiggles her leg; she wiggles her foot. Just calm down.

i might be dying i did something wrong i don’t want to get in trouble about what i haven’t done what i have done why isn’t it ever enough the walls are closing in i have to stop i don’t know how to stop i can’t stop this won’t ever end

Instincts kick in as her heart races. Something is hunting her. She chooses to fly, running for safety. She doesn’t know that she should be more feared than any creature hunting her.

Section 4: Music

That girl has a pretty voice. My niece is better, though. That girl gets all the parts she wants without even trying. She always has to win.

I came home from my recital and cried. I dedicated my performance to God, but it wasn’t my best. Like an addict, I keep going back to the stage, the music, to those moments of living on a higher plane of reality.

A girl prepared all her life for each artistic opportunity. She gave herself in each performance. Filled with wells of emotion, she sang melodies to quench the thirst of a faceless crowd.

Section 5: Depression

That girl still isn’t out of bed. I could never do that. That girl doesn’t know what hard work is. Mental illness is valid, but some people just don’t help themselves.

… I … am … so heavy … I … shouldn’t feel like … this … why … do I feel like … this? … I … haven’t slept … I’m … doing something … wrong … I’m … wrong … I’m …  a burden … I … deserve to … be punished … maybe … I will …

Centuries of ignored mental disorders, result in a woman’s soul bleeding out. She breathes in smoke and exhales ash. Her biological makeup is self-destructing. She has to feel anything other than this: she pinches; she cuts; she continues to bleed.

.

Section 6: Connection

That girl is off the map. No one knows where she is at in life (she hardly ever posts). How does that girl expect people to keep in touch with her?

A tender touch, a dimpled smile, a thoughtful note—all are dear to me. I treasure the people with whom I can share looks and converse without words. They are my core; we are family.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,

Though I must go, endure not yet

A breach, but an expansion,

Like gold to airy thinness beat.

“A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning” by John Donne

Section 7: Fault

That girl was wearing a tight skirt. His hand accidentally brushed too far down. She put herself in that situation. Both are at fault, but it’s mostly her fault.

Did I imagine his hand there? He is my church leader. I shouldn’t be thinking that about it him. I shouldn’t have worn this skirt. He lied to me. We both are at fault, but it’s mostly my fault.

Predatory thoughts render him devoid of authority. No God can justify that thick sinister air, the air no one believes he sucked from her lungs. He is a product of a derelict world. Both him and society are at fault, but it’s mostly his fault.

Section 8: God

If you are good, you will be loved. If you disregard the rules, you will be spurned. If you pray, your troubles will vanish. Just wear the mask; “we wear the mask.”  
"We Wear the Mask" by Paul Laurence Dunbar

empty

twist hands tight

fleshy man-made masks

share words through stale air

scavenge scraps from last week

to better Munch for a moldy meal

or just go away in a van with Vincent.

relearn binary too and apply two layers

use a black primer to paint a white wall

brittle toxins become a daily password.

all sunlight unknowingly creates shade

she thinks her spikes are in her spine

she won’t see gaping hell’s mouth.

Our Father, which art in heaven,

lead us not into temptation.

Give us this our daily bread

on earth as it is in heaven.

forgive us our trespasses

who trespass against us

for ever and ever.

Thy will be done,

but deliver us from evil

For thine is the kingdom.

Hallowed be thy name,

as we forgive the

power and the glory,

Thy kingdom come.

Amen.

Compassion knows no bounds, has no prejudice, and is more intimate than touch. Your weaknesses; Our weaknesses. Your strengths; Our strengths. Your love, Our love.

Section 9: Suicide

*Whispered*: That girl tried to kill herself. She comes from a good family and has been given a privileged life. Frankly, it’s a selfish thing to do. That boy shouldn’t marry her. They need to be warned, this needs to be told.

I am a black hole that engulfs the life out of everything it comes in contact with. The world must be spared. God? If I should stay, then let someone find me, if not, please let me have rest from this wretched body and bring rest to everyone else.

A woman sobs and shakes with anguish. She hasn’t been able to take her meds and triggers compound. With her headphones around her neck, she tries to squeeze the life from her body. Her sister finds her. Neither will be the same, but decorum requires them to act the same.

Section 10: Enough

That girl is spoiled. She is never satisfied. I think she has ulterior motives. Why else would she try to look like a glorified saint?

My academic papers have been read across the globe, I have worked since I was able to, I have tried to be obedient and do what’s right. Why is it never enough? Why am I never enough?

Somehow, this girl celebrates others’ shards while smashing her own. She is reclaiming the soul she handed over to a warped vengeful God. She is enough. I am enough. We are enough. To be whole with holes, to embody kintsukuroi, to be truly and lastingly free.