Unjust! Unjust!

Sometimes, I feel like Jane Eyre. When she was but ten years old, locked away in the red-room in the Reed home. Because "Master Reed" an insufferable boy with a horrible case of the "spoiled-rotten's", threw a book at her head. Only in defense did she cause such a riot against him, only in defense did she kick and scream all the way to that dreadful room. Jane felt attacked by everyone around her. No one loved her, and she was sure of that. Yet, with all of the hate she still felt as though it was her fault. That something in her was wrong. That she was broken and that was the reason she was being treated in that way. With a strong mind, but an undoubtably weak person, she lashed out inside and pleaded for mercy on the outside. Mercy that was never taken seriously.

How would you like to be truly in fear and no one take you seriously?
How would you like to be unloved and uncared for and know that it would never change?

Oh Jane Eyre. She is my heroin. (Not the drug. Get your head out of the gutter.)

I said sometimes I feel like her, because sometimes... I feel like I am just trying to live and that everything is getting in my way. I'm lashing out on the inside but I know that really, I need to step up and take the blow. I know that I am worthy of the condemnation and the reproof that is heading my way. I'm being a baby, and acting childish.

Soon, here on this blog I will be writing my goals for the new year. I'm kind of excited for them, but there is also a part of me that really just doesn't even want to think about them. Mainly because I have this nagging feeling in me that say's, "You could never accomplish them in a million years." Oh, but I can.. and I will, just like Jane Eyre did... just you wait and see.