The Dreaded “Before Time” 
*This was written about a very dark period of my life where I became attached to an individual. I have worked through those issues, yet it is still very raw for me to recall the person I was. So please try not to judge her as I have done. I was reluctant to share this bit of writing because I didn't want to be seen as I was then.

Content Warning
*The before time, the most dreadful of times, to live inside a fractured mind. Rejection is a daily event, not to look forward to. The unloved sinking feeling of childhood memories. No. This is not a place to enter for the fair of heart.

Take heed! For in this nightmare dreamscape, this fever dream, daily heartache, a demoralized, minimized cry-baby is near!!!

Run! Run away!!!

So ugly is she. Un-time-worthy, unimportant. One to feel sorry for, to abhor. Not one to be near, or ever revere, with her permeating stench of need. Distasteful longing, penetrating. Nobody wants to see that! Go away with all that messiness! Scram! Be-gone, you stray! Unwanted mongrel, go away!

“Love me, please,” said she. How obscene! How desperately hopeless! How repellent! They said, “Go away, little girl, with all your silly words!” 

An acquaintance, a stranger, a tag along, straggler. “What are you doing here in my space, so out of place?”

The reality, crashing; soul-crushing, mind-cracking. Snap, snap, snapping! 

Shown her way to the door. Shorn. Swept in a pile on the floor. Trash, dispossessed. Connection, repossessed.

Hot potato drop, drop, dropped. Left to rot, rot, rot. 

She cried, “Please, let me in! “Pathetically begging. Banally beseeching. 

Unable to stop, autopilot activated. Self-control eliminated. 

*This is all very extreme, is it not? I suppose. But the histrionics were palpable in this “feeling unseen, little girl.” Anyone would run and run fast. Far and away.

Let’s start from the very beginning. That’s a very good place to start.🎵

An incubating need, left to itself, in a brain, on a shelf.

Hesitant, with trepidation, she wrote some words never spoken.

Beautiful acknowledgments, in reply. Words placed together in perfection. Alighting inspiration, fueled by reckless desperation. Hunger! Feed more!😋

The kindest words, ever said, going straight, straight, straight, to a little girl, living inside a head. 

She ate those words so hungrily. Pleading for “More, more, more!” so very, very famished was she. “Yum! Such kind words taste so pleasing.” 

What must she do to, once again, view those beautiful words of acknowledgement?

*That which filled her, was being appreciated for the person she was. It was being told of her worth. It was being truly seen. It was feeling connected with a kindred spirit. It was all of it put together in a few short sentences, filling the hungry hurting parts. Nourishing her. Of course, she wanted more. That’s only natural.

Write, create! Show, show, show!
A creative Inspiration, exposition,
Just for a lick, of recognition.
Validation, always seeking,
Just one more taste of that warm, safe feeling.

To be seen, so enticing, so inviting. 
Validation, so alighting.

Too excited!!! Too much you!!!!
“Shoo, shoo! Git!”
Rocks hurled, “Yip, yip, yip!”
Poignantly rejected,
Tail between her legs dejected.

Alas, the words she’d written on a screen, seemingly unopened, unseen. Desperation leaking, mixing in. Honest reflections, sit alone. In-between.

She wrote and wrote, every day. Just in the hopes, they’d appear again.

She wrote, and she waited, breath baited.

Stomach growling in defiant protest, “Feed me dammit!”  

Hopefully waiting. Wish, wish, wishing. 

Desperation drip, drip, dripping.

For with those words, before received, the little girl, at last, felt seen.

Where she shone with the brilliance of knowing she was special. 🏅🎆✨️⭐️🌟🌠

*Every child deserves to feel this. It is like no other feeling: believing that you are special, you are seen, and you are safe in that place. 

How hungry she must have been!!!

What a messy, distasteful time. Even puppy love pranced in, so unwelcome. 🐶🐕💌

Her misbelieving. Her misbehaving. 😻🤬

Oh, the colossal humiliation!🫣🤐

Oh, the dreadful shame, shame, shame! 😶‍🌫️

“You only have yourself to blame, blame, blame!”

Trying and trying. Trying too hard. Dripping desire, so unseemly. Spirit so, un-redeeming. 🤮

What a surprise! A gift has appeared! Happy, happy, happy, was she.🎁

The fanciful words, joyfully written;
Unwelcome, unwanted.
Placed in their place!
Such an abominable disgrace!🫢
 
Oh, the shame. The dreaded shame. 😖

Hopefulness vanishes with each word read by the little girl inside a head. 🥹

Her heartfelt words, soundly rejected. She had not known; she’d been too extreme; inside the greatness of her need.🤩

Connection, disconnected!

Her cover was blown. 

Now they see…. her true ugliness, shown.

Trauma, resurfacing. Hurt feelings, percolating.

Trying too hard, just like before. A speck of dust, upon the floor.

Her writing dismissed. Displaced to a faraway, relegated space. No longer her own. 

Lost in a mist of obscurity. ☁️🌫
CRACK, BANG, BOOM!!!!! Went her mind.😵‍💫

A dreadful disaster! Her written words stolen!
All the passion freed. Emboldened.
Formed from her heart, piece by piece.
An ethos reconstruction, a sparkle reproduction.
Too important were they, to be tossed away!
A colossal loss! A brazen betrayal!
Frozen in fear, on Red Alert. Danger!!!!

Personal stories, historical. Disposable.

Unwanted, unseen. Pissed on. Deplorable.

Self-reflections abandoned. Lost.

Attempts for connection, rejected. Tossed

Lifeline disconnected. Hung up on.

Inspiration, incinerated. Stomped on.

Dead, as dead can be. Extinguished. 

Self-worth reduced. Relinquished. 

But the cat came back, the very next day!🎵😻
Slinking back inside the door.
Never learning, always yearning.
An unwanted guest. Begging, pleading.
Always staying, never leaving.

No tenderness was administered. 
No grace or deference was she given. 
Words chosen with undue care, 
Cutting her; Lifeblood leaving her. 
Rejection demeaning her.

*How could they possibly have known?

Words so harsh were not enough to put the little girl back onto her shelf.

*They ask, “Is it worth it? All that wishing?” 
Attachment is not a choice. It cannot be halted, by just telling yourself to stop feeling attached. It must be worked through to heal. I only really wanted their validation and kindness. That is what was nurturing for me. They wouldn't have known that their inconsistent offerings, mirrored my childhood rejections. The puppy-love transference was merely a side effect. Because when I finally felt accepted, seen, and welcomed, those other, coming and going, feelings went away. It has been a journey, has it not? I am so grateful that this person stuck by me, and we are now very good friends. I no longer yearn for their attention, or feel a driving desire to email, just to try and impress them with my writing, or receive acknowledgement. It is a very healthy friendship now. See, that is how insecure attachment is cured, when the person sticks around, while also establishing boundaries and having those boundaries respected by the attached person. Also, I was a complete AH to them sometimes, so they had every right to dump me as a friend. 

And I haven’t written about, the extent of my delusions and beliefs. I am focusing on the attachment aspect so far. And the confusion and guilt. For the love, of her ever-present rock, Joe. What a mess!