i know. words are just words, if you take them as it is. at face value.
but words are not just words. words hold meaning, in otherwise meaningless conversations, statements, interactions. they say action say more than words. it is true, but not wholly the truth. because it is easier to hide behind words, than it is to hide behind actions. so people talk, and mindlessly at that. and sometimes they unleash a hell that cannot be seen or felt by everyone. it is hell to the one the words are meant for.
i have an extremely good memory to begin with (not after the electroconvulsive therapies though), and although it works to my advantage, it is perilous for a personality like mine. i remember vividly how my English teacher bullied me when i was 7 years old. i remember vividly all the times i was bullied by my teachers. all the unkind words spoken to me in my life are etched into my mind. some words, though seemingly innocent, scar me. and i tend to cling on to them even though i know it does nothing but hurt me. i used to take pride in doing my best no matter my detractors. i did what i needed to do, even if i was being criticised. it hurt, yes. it is only human to hurt. but it took was just one event that had me spiral down into depression, that i lost that confidence. that event involved words too. words that were almost fatal.
i became very bitter. what i clung onto, those words that hurt, started to eat into me. i found it odd that after i fell into depression, those hurtful words just came full force. it seemed like everything that anyone said would hurt. and i couldn’t stop it in its track. after awhile, i realised that depression tends to make me take everything said as oncoming arrows. but it does not take away the fact that words carelessly thought about and said, hurt me. it hurt me because i am human. only more so because i am depressed. because of carelessly thought words and the emotions that ensued, i’ve been very sick with depression and my eating disorder. it took so much out of me and my life. my life was shattered into smithereens because of these sickening words. and now i’m still trying to pick up the pieces, as more of me continues to shatter, leaving behind another trail.
i was mortified when my psychiatrist told me in his final words to me, that i should not take words to heart. It was after a high-tension debate about what he had said the last time i saw him. you mean you can talk to me like i am crap, and i am supposed to not “take it to heart”? you can talk shit to me, and then try denying it even though i have evidence you said it? i don’t deserve to be treated like that, especially if it comes from a healthcare professional. you cannot talk down to me, and try to get away from it. in my defence, i told him “do not think that i am an amnesiac that i can forget what you said”. he backed off after and apologised. and you know what, the meanest things can come out of people who save lives- doctors and nurses. that is what i’ve experienced, and it is a fact.
in these 3 years i’ve been in depression, i’ve heard all kinds of disgusting things that one should never tell another person. and they were being said to me. you’d think after 3 years, i’ve learnt my lesson. but i have not, because it is simply innate in me. people tell me i’m too serious. at times, my friends have to tell me my other friend’s only joking. whatever it is, i take things too seriously. i still remember all the hurtful words said and done unto me. but i have my coping mechanisms. i’ve learnt how to tell people to get out of my face if i know i’m going to be verbally abused. i’ve shut people out of my life, including my family, because they were hurting me more than they are helping.
you know, words are never just words. words hold a lot of power. they can move the world, or they can have someone taking their own life. the same old rule applies: if you don’t know what to say, don’t say anything at all.