deep dark secret

Everyone has it. And I am no exception.

My life is generally an open book. Most people know that...

I had to go to therapy. 

I had a difficult childhood. 

I had been taken advantaged.

I was a good  liar, cheater, and thief. 

I make poor, if not terrible, choice with men. 

I was in sex, drugs, and alcohol. Rock n’ roll not much.

I was rebellious, indifferent, vice loving, biatch without a heart.

These are things that I do not hide. Some are highly overrated while most I would rather forget.

But out of all the things that people know, I hold one deep dark secret. A secret that I try to forget but on the quietest moments of my days it resurfaces it self like a phantom. I try to run from it catches up on me refusing to let me forget. It is a secret that cannot and should not be forgotten. Because if I do, shit would happen. 

Shit had happened once. And it was excruciating to go through the psychological torment and guilt. And so this deep dark secret is something I can’t just shrug my shoulder on. Because of it, I am veered into being responsible.

But no matter how responsible I am. Sooner or later, responsible won’t help. No amount of zoloft or any medication will erase the stigma it causes. Especially this Friday, when once again I will have to go through a scary ordeal hoping this secret will not laugh cruelly on my face.