Kindness and gifts she saw as torment. Abused with attention. The idea sounds strange. The thoughts connected to that type of behavior for the normal mind happiness and joy. She learned to feel helpless and ashamed. She wouldn't expect anyone to understand because she didn't realize it was not normal to feel that way quietly. Buried deep. Her estimations of the intentions of other people had been skewed. She managed okay as long as she could keep people at a distance. She didn't want close relationships there was too much pain. Too many secrets to keep. Too many people would be hurt. Without the pain her identity would vanish. The pain and shame created her. To everyone it would seem ridiculous to hear. She would not be able to make sense of her choices because they were each a reflection of her turmoil. Why expose that much truth to greed? If someone needed something why would they want to understand her when they could just come and take it? She was easy to take advantage of because of her naivety. She was easy to disregard as troubled. She watched as life swirled around her, alone. She waited for the glimpses of inspiration. The pieces of truth that guided her. The certainty of grace.
With a handful of her hair she was yanked into position. "Stand still I'm talking to you. Look at yourself you are a mess." Anything could be called into question. An answer demanded. Answers to questions no one asks. Ignored and forgotten suddenly all the attention was on her. The confusion because kindness hadn't prepared her for being pushed against a wall to be ridiculed. Another type of attention spotlighting more turmoil. Again abused with attention.
It's not what you think it's what you believe. Patricia '96
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