You know that "someone is watching me" feeling? That little sensation when you feel the eyes of someone on you? There's another feeling like that I hope you never feel. Often described as a weight or burden weighing someone down. I've experienced the lethargic inclinations of hopelessness and agree. The part that no one ever talks about is that feeling of being watched by something rather than someone.
An apparition of an apathetic allegory of pain that is your life story. Like the chains and weights of Marley's ghost floating just out of sight waiting to drop dragging your tattered soul to damnation. An uncaring ghost with no voice that merely reminds us of our own horrors.
The towering father figure beating me with a thick rodeo belt emblazoned with his name and lined on either side with thick rawhide stitching. The whelps would turn purple and black with bleeding stitches like the bruises were stitched on. The extension cord has only a beginning and no end. The crazed man beats me with a thick orange utility cord. The sound is like Zorro and the pain is like death. I'm dying today. He's finally going to kill me. I'm not there anymore. I think I'm dead. I'm not. I'm awake on the floor. Exactly were I crumbled like laundry in shock.
The contrast of the cold wooden floor against the heat of the lashings and whelps can not be described.
Simultaneously feeling grateful to be alive and terrified to move. Had it been hours or seconds? Is he done or still standing over me waiting for proof of life before continuing my education? Do I get to heal this time before he does it again? Does anybody on Earth care about me?
My "real" Father doesn't want me. Never did. He broke my leg at barely five months old. Went to jail for a very short period of time and didn't see me again till I was a teenager.
After he broke my infant body I was left with my Mother. She would leave me for hours and I suspect days in my own filth. I was just a baby in a body cast. I didn't learn to walk till my late twos. My leg didn't heal properly and I've had a slight limp my entire life.
My siblings who were all from different fathers treated me terribly. My mother the ringleader. My father was a crazy maniac so you'll be a crazy maniac. Our dad's come visit wheres yours in the loony bin?
No toys just chores. The only child of six to do chores. The only child of six to not get an allowance. The only child of six to make honor roll. The only child of six to not get bought a car. The only child of six who doesn't live with mommy I felt I should mention. The only child of six who doesn't have major legal problems, substance abuse problems, or genital warts.
But none of that petty stuff matters. The mind trying to make itself feel better about an impossible situation.
What really matters is these people who were family made my life not worth living. Like they had a pool on how much shit I could take before I killed myself.
No relationships, no friends, no ability to get a promotion and a lot of not being able to get a job in the first place.
The Devil's Radio is often gas lit. Here is a short list of the things my family has said about me to everyone from friends, girls, jobs and even the police.
At least five false police reports including having me institutionalized for supposedly threatening self harm. Three of those occasions they stole all my stuff while I was locked up.
At least three times calling child services on friends of if mine and then telling those people that they know it was me.
Telling anyone who would listen that I am a;
Pedophile
Rapist
Racist
Woman abuser
Cheater
I have every STD known and unknown
I have dozens of kids I don't pay child support on. Many of which conceived before I lost my virginity with girls I don't even know.
I'm actually gay
I'm a sadistic manipulative narcissist
I'm a thief and a liar
I'm a junky
I have lice, scabies, crabs, and contagious eczema
I don't need glasses I'm just pretentious
I have sex with animals
I beat up elderly people
I could go on but as you can see they will say anything to alienate me from the world.
They succeeded. I'm 43 and I have no friends. Holidays are virtually meaningless to me. I've never had a good Christmas, Thanksgiving, Birthday, or really any special events that I can remember.
The Devil's Radio still crackles and hisses out those golden oldies whether I'm around or not. Reinforcing false feelings just in case I might go home.
I want to know if anyone out there can even see me.