:: unwelcomed, unwanted ::

how ironic is it that one feels so unwelcomed and so unwanted in her Own home? when you form a certain impression about someone, whether through hearsay, interactions, first impressions, or whathaveyou, it is difficult to alter that impression.
what more of someone whom you watched grow up and mature?
what more of someone whom you've given birth to, only to have her turn out to be such a terrible failure?
it may be that one might have been mistaken, having been oversensitive, over-guilty about what one should not have done, overly hard on oneself. some cynics might even argue that such people are in want of attention, and it is thus that have driven them to think themselves unwanted. a perverse reverse psychologist at work.

but what then? when at such moments, one feels the strongest impulse and desire in oneself to move out, to get away from that which is causing such heart-wrenching pain? it is a metaphorical illustration of claustrophobia - when everything seems to cave in at once and one is severely in need of air.

what then? when someone who is so dear and close in one's heart brandishes a cruel whip and slashes it again and again and again on a healing wound?

and isn't it all the more tragic, when one have become somewhat numbed by this treatment? somewhat, because while one is conscious that one is no longer shocked or crumble within or without, one still feels the excrutiating pain on the wound. it is a kind of hurt that is shrouded in overtures of indifference; a hopelessness that resides at the back of one's mind.