When Will I Wake Up

I went to sleep.  A long time ago.  And I’ve never been able to wake up.

I went to sleep.  When I was a little girl being abused and rejected by her mother and sexually,  physically abused by her father.  Emotional abuse all around.  Rejection in heaping quantities.  I went to sleep so I could survive until I could graduate from high school and leave home.  I went to sleep because the pain was too much.  Too much to bear.

I went to sleep so I could survive.   Survive. Just survive.

That was my only goal…to survive.

Survive to fight another day.  Fight for the possibility that I might have a future.  A good future.  Worth living.

Survive and then…thrive.

I went to sleep believing I would wake up in a few years.  I believed I would wake up with time to spare.  With life to spare.

I went to sleep and I dreamed away my life.  I inadvertently dreamed away my entire life.

I started waking up when my second husband left me.  He left me because, in his eyes, I was unlovable.   I was defective.  Always had been unlovable and defective.  I was never, ever, ever good enough.  We were together for 22 years…me trying to be good enough and never, ever being good enough in his eyes.  Never measuring up. Never being someone who was worth loving.

It seemed wise,considering the situation,  to stay under.  To keep slumbering.  To wait until it was safe to open my eyes just a little bit.

It was never safe to open my eyes.  Even a little bit.

I wanted to wake up.  I wanted to understand what had happened to me.  I wanted to live, to love and be loved.

I loved.  But I was never loved.  That was a hard pill to swallow.  That kept me asleep.  Because sleeping was better than being gutted by the pain of not being wanted.  Of being weighed and found sadly wanting.

I put myself under on purpose.

Dumb move.

I couldn’t find a way to wake myself up.  Considering.

Considering sleeping seemed to be the way to go.  Considering it seemed to be the best option.  The best option for survival.  The best option considering I wasn’t a lovable person…for some reason I couldn’t quite understand or comprehend.

I slept my life away.

I slept until I was…old.  An age that society considers…old.  I slept.  And slept.  And when I started to think about waking up, it was too late.  Too late to change the course of my life.  Too late to change the ending.

I went to sleep.  A long time ago.  And I’ve never been able to wake up.

I’ve tried to wake up.  I’ve tried to live.  But it hasn’t worked out for me.

Abuse delivered the overdose that put me in a coma.  Abuse and rejection smothered me and kept me anesthetized.    Abuse and rejection stole my life away from me.

All I wanted was to live.   To really, REALLY live.  To experience the goodness of life.  To experience the reason most people cling to life.  Even when it’s less than ideal.

All I wanted was to wake up.  And to have a chance to live.

All I wanted was to wake up.  And find that life had not passed me by.  To find that there was still time to taste the goodness.

When will I wake up?  Will I ever wake up?  Does it even make sense…to wake up?

Will I ever truly live?

Is life worth living?  Will I ever wake up and find what other believe is worth living for?  Will I ever actually experience life…the part that matters?

I went to sleep.   I’ve been asleep for a very long time.

When will I wake up?

Will I wake up?

Will I ever wake up?

Will I ever live?  Really live?  Really, really, truly live?

Will I ever wake up?

Is it too late, even if I wake up?

Is it too late?

Questions.  So many question.  Bottom line…I’m asleep.  Bottom line…is it worth it to wake up??  Is there any reason to wake up this late in the game?

When, if ever, will I wake up?????





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