Permanent problems
All that I'm ever going to be is broken. Somebody who was never allowed to be themselves. Somebody whose every emotion was policed.
I can't go back in time and tell the adults like I should have. That the woman who raised me also beat me whenever she got an excuse. I can't tell adults that I wasn't being listened to when the man who raised me turned "no" into a curse word under his roof. I can't save the little me who was adopted by big monsters.
I can't go back in time. And that's not something that can ever be fixed. That's a permanent problem, something that can't be undone.
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I could have been raised by people who understood me. Instead of people who "put up with" and "dealt with" me.
This entire time, I could have been loved. I could have been raised by people who fostered my growth. Not by people who stunted it. And placed roadblocks every time I tried to branch out.
But I wasn't. I was too stupid to tell as many adults as it took.
Now, I'm never gonna get that back. I'm never gonna get a family who understands me, cares for me, nurtures me and wants to see me grow. I've always had the aptitude, but what does that really mean when you were raised by manipulative bullies?
