Question: Personality Disorder

Photo by Pooja Roy on Unsplash

‘The things that have happened to you, should have destroyed you.’ — He said.
‘Perhaps it already has’. — I thought.

I always wonder. Time to time the sensation surfaces. After all these years, after all the hurt, the torment and the plain torture. It hurts. Physically.
My eyes burn. My chest is compressed and resides in a pressing painful sensation.
My face twitches as I walk with a motionless expression on my cheeks. My eyes fixated in one direction, excluding everything around me. People, cars, a tram passing by. Wind.
A few drops of rain.
The thought creeps in again. I think of him. Of him, in this exact moment. As I place my feet on the concrete ground to execute a step, in that split second as the shoe touches the ground, it hits me. I wonder, what is he doing right now?
Does he ever thinks of me? Does he remember?
Have I ever meant anything to these people? Just about anything?
All of them. They have all left. Have they ever took something from me that they keep forever?
Or perhaps I am nothing, just a piece of scribbled paper that they have crumpled then threw out?
Like I have never existed. ‘My crazy ex.’
She was crazy.’
Have these people, even for a moment realized that all I have ever wanted, is to love?

Love them. Love him.
But of course, how could I have ever be loved, when I am nothing just a miserable, tormented soul that has been only chewed, tasted, enjoyed then spat out by people.
All I am, is alone, all I know is abandonment, and all I feel is judgement.
You call this love?
Safe space?

A safe — I repeat — safe space?

‘Let’s build it together.’


‘Let’s build a fucking path together that will drive me further down into the pit of insanity.’

And what will you all do? Run in fear, and ignorance.

Live your lives, with your loved ones, abandoning the ‘crazy girl’, as she ‘probably had it coming’ anyways.


fuck all of you.



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Sara S.

Sara S.

Content creator using writing as a tool to carve the stone of self expression.