The Voice by Ms A. Adams

Recently we have been featuring the wonderful written works of people who use our service. For our latest prose and poetry callout Anjie replied, sending us this honest and emotive piece about the heartbreak of feeling like an outsider.

My Voice

They took my voice before I knew that I had one but never let through.

Controlled, corrected, shaped, torn, taught to regret the way I was born. Manipulated into shame, they broke the mirror and blamed my name, I quietly said yes, I did. 

You are fine they say with distant eyes, they miss the pain behind my disguise, dismissed again, unheard and unseen.

People don't see behind this anxious smile, the things I went through in my lifetime.

Still fighting through storms and winds silently behind this mask just to fit in with others around me. I thought getting on with pain was a part of everybody's life, exhausted and overwhelming.

Go on with living life in pain, silence and not being heard as I thought it was normal, I had thought I was the big problem. So, I carried it all, from aching joints, foggy brain, tight chest at night, gasping for breath, bleary eyes, clasped arches of my poor feet. I didn't dare to complain or questioned, just kept going because that's what I thought we had to do. Nobody saw how hard it was just to exist.

 And then far too late, the diagnosis came.

Shattering my life once again.

No body to tell as my parents have passed away. Suddenly my life made sense but didn't take away my grief of the years lost, not getting the support I deserved, be cared for and be seen. Not to be handed silence once again. 

Still here even since childhood I’ve had thoughts of wanting to be dead in this horrible world. I felt out of place. I just wanted to be alone to hibernate and recharge my bodies energy. No matter how hard I tried to socialise, I was put down, moulded and moved like a puppet I just didn't fit in, zoned out and drifted away from conversations with triggering words, interrupted conversations as I will forget what I wanted to say.

Sometimes I would see lips moving but won't hear their voices as if I'm deaf. I can hear the beats in my knees, the flow of my blood, drilling noises in my ears. I feel I am an alien that people don't understand. I continued my painful journey thinking pain was something everybody just gone on with. From stiff joints to clasped arches under my feet.

I walked through pain with silence cries that no one saw behind my eyes. I believed I was wrong for feeling grieved and carried pain without a name. I've had years of being controlled and walked upon, dismissed, denied, taught to be silence, moulded to something that benefited others, I quieted my screams for help as I wasn't heard, people erased my dreams by saying oh! you don't need this or that just do without it. I just didn't belong anywhere, I had no choice but to survive and nobody noticed I was breaking and still procrastinating just wanted to hibernate from the world.

Others thrived, even when I tried my best.

Stayed quiet, frozen in time, one slight move would get me in to trouble. Every night apart of me died. Still, I smiled, still I stayed, still I worked hard, still I obeyed, through twisted joints from knees to hips. I fought the war that lived within me. Breath like wind I couldn't grasp. No one sew it, no one knew. 

Masking my way through life in different ways was not enough as the guilt crept in as I was judged by professionals, benefit friends but even the ones I loved close by. I am a soul who stayed alive, when nobody thought I'd still survive. I feel like a flame still burning through what they can't feel.

Only later in life came the truth Dyslexia, ADHD, Autistic all the parts I never knew. A flood of grief, a flicker in the endless dark.

I have waited my whole life for somebody to understand. A survivor of systems that never saw hiding behind my mask.

I am a shadow nobody names, a story lost in empty frames. Screamed in silence all my life. They walk on me with polished shoes, I was a puppet on their strings, taught to please and fear all things. Controlled, confused, like I was wrong for being different all along. Controlled by smiles that looked so sweet. I learnt to quiet evert scream inside of me. Doubted every hope and all my dreams. So, I bent over backwards to bring peace in my life. 

They softly say neurodiverse and shut the door and walk away. They say reach out but where or who. My soul worn thin with silence and fear, I'm tired of fighting my way through life.

Now diagnosed I’m learning how to speak, the truth I've hidden every second of my life. I'm still alone, still screaming in a dead phone, the help they promise never stays, neglected through all the systems from education to healthcare. Just closed off eyes and hollow praise. They say I've made it this far in life all alone, I'm tired of being resilient. There’re no open doors, just cold professionals keeping scores. Some night I wish my life just paused from this endless brutal test of life. A map appears, but still no guide, the doors I knock stay closed outside.

Even though I am distance from those that controlled and moulded me throughout my life, now I’m still waiting for somebody to tell me what to do. I'm still suffering in silence. Still wondering if my voice matters.

Now I know maybe I've been strong all along. Still, I rise, though shadows try to steal my light, I'm not a case to be brushed aside as I'm proof of strength denied.

Ms A. Adams