See Me Now

I found this while sorting through some old journals.  Written July 22, 2010

I've been bruised and used.  Ripped apart and abused.  I'm a little tattered. I've been cut to the heart.  And not a clean, piercing jab, but the kind of soul-wrenching wound an emotional butter knife would make as it forced its way through one's chest.  I've hit bottom.  The very bottom.  So low that I now call it the scariest point of my life.  But in that moment, I couldn't feel fear; I felt NOTHING.  I've hurt.  I've suffered abuse at my own hands.  I've been broken. Many times in many ways.  Never quite shattered.  Almost, once.  But only broken.  Each wound has healed.  And all are stronger.  Oh, but you should see me now.