This will be long …for me at least (A.D.D. will start soon..)
If you have read my stories, you will know that I don’t forget faces, especially those from relationships. And if you have read my stories, you know I talk about one specific girl in my stories – “Marie.” She put me in a downward spiral of self hate, self harm, and no self worth.
School recently started. I saw her, but I didn’t recognize her. Me, the one who never forgets a face, never gets over a girl, and I forgot! I got over her. I wanted to start crying, breaking down. For some reason, my life had frozen. I didn’t try to look for her like I used to. I had forgotten her, forgot it all. I didn’t just forget “Marie,” but the rape, the hate, all of it.
I forgot everything except the hate. People hate me because I have screwed up. I am angry. I have unimaginable rage. Right now, even the computer I’m typing on is angering me so much, but I resist. I resist the urge to lash out.
So, I met a girl. She is the sweetest girl, and she just stops me. I know I will regret saying this, but I really do love her. She is my world. When “Brina” just caresses me and holds me tight, she stops the rage and anger …and the self harm.
The earlier generations don’t seem to understand. To them, depression is a mood, not a mental illness. We didn’t choose the pain, self harm, or anger, we were born with it. We grew up faking the smile, hiding it until some sees a cut, the scar tissue, the hole in the wall, the pure hatred of society.
We struggle to simply wake up in the morning and function as a human beings, yet we still wake up. We get up, even though there is no motivation, our faces tear-stained, our hearts beating for that one girl or boy we like. We want that one special person to know the pain, the quirks, the oddities, and unknown anger. We want that one person to look into our eyes and know our hearts beat for love.
I want that one girl to see me and know that my eyes see only her. I want her to see why I wake to an ever-beating heart deep in my chest.
I found that girl. And she saw me…
My anger is clashing with my feelings of love and affection! Please help me. Reach out to me. I want to start changing my life!
I just want you to know that I read each and every one of the posts that go up on here. Each post makes me feel an array of different emotions and I wish I could reach through the screen and hug every single one of you. You are so strong and courageous for putting your stories up for the world to see.
Now, having said that. I have a few things I want you guys to think about.
Life is too short to continue doing things that don’t make you happy. If you are in a sour relationship that you don’t foresee going anywhere, get out! It may be hard at first, but you will be so much happier once you drop the dead weight. You and only you hold the power to your own happiness. Why waste months or even years with someone who doesn’t make you happy? Each day is a gift. A gift that shouldn’t be wasted.
Are you sick and tired of doing the same thing day in and day out? Change it! Have the courage to jump out of the endless cycle you’ve found yourself in and start something new! Whether it be a career change, or a new hobby, just do it!
I don’t want you to look back at your life years from now and wish you had done something different. Now is the time to do that something different.
Want to go back to school, learn a new trade? Do it! What is stopping you? If it’s money that is holding you back, look into all of the grants and loans you could get. Start somewhere.
Surround yourself with people who love and care about you and want you to be happy. If there is someone or multiple people bringing you down, let them go. All they are doing is holding you back from who you want to be.
No matter how long you have traveled down this road you are on, there is always an escape route. You can turn around at any point and find a new way. It will be scary to travel into the unknown, but I know you can do it!
If you suffer from depression, know that there is a way out. Talk to someone, maybe even get on to a medication if you can. You don’t have to suffer any longer. Get out and change it. Find something you love and do it! Do what makes you happy. Always.
If you have been knocked down in life, get back up! You may feel like your life is in pieces scattered all over the floor, but you can pick them up and put them back together. You can heal. You can overcome anything that comes your way. You got this!
Happiness is achievable, you just have to work for it. There isn’t a little fairy that will come around and sprinkle happy dust on you, you have to get out there and find your own happiness. You are all worth it and all deserve happiness. If you sit back and look at your life and find that you aren’t happy, find the problem and fix it. Life is far too short to waste precious moments doing things or being with someone who doesn’t make you happy.
You are worth it.
You are strong.
You are courageous.
You can do this!
I believe in every single one of you. Now go find your happy!
My daughter brought home her first trimester report card yesterday. She got all A’s and B’s, which I know will make her grandparents proud. I’m proud too, of course. But….
I read more than the report card. I read her progress report on her IEP goals. The report that says she’s making “slight progress” in her language arts and math classes. These are classes she takes in the cognitively impaired (special ed) room. The report also reminds me that she reads at a third grade level in some areas, and at a first grade level in others. She’s been at a third grade level since about fifth grade. She is in seventh grade.
This is when the anxiety creeps in again. When I start to worry about her future. Will she ever read at higher than a third grade level? Will she ever be able to do more than basic arithmetic? If she can’t take the standardized tests in high school, will she even get a diploma? College is likely out of the question, but there’s a tech school here in town through the school system, maybe she can go there?
Then there’s the jealousy. Hearing my friends and acquaintances kids’ read four grade levels beyond their age – skip grades – attend Big 10 colleges – earn all A’s.
Then I just try to focus on what’s happening right now. One day at a time. Push those worries back to that dark corner of my mind.
I am a survivor of domestic abuse. I became one of the lucky ones at the tender age of 15. I got out of the relationship after nearly a year of verbal, emotional, and physical abuse. It wasn’t easy. It was terrifying, but I did it.
It all started when I was a freshman in high school. A senior caught my eye and I apparently caught his as well. After knowing each other for only a short amount of time, we were dating. I thought it was love, true love, and believed whole heartedly that he was the one.
The abuse started slow. First, he didn’t like my friends and thought they were trying to sabotage our relationship. (They saw the signs before I did and tried to warn me). He isolated me and I thought nothing of it.
Then he didn’t like the way I dressed. He called me trashy and a whore. He said I was trying to catch the attention of other guys. He controlled what I wore and who my friends were.
Then he would yell and scream at me whenever I did something he deemed as wrong. The verbal abuse escalated to physical abuse soon after, probably about three months in. He would slam me into lockers and choke me. He would push me to the ground while screaming at me. He broke two of my ribs and I still forgave him. Teachers, bus drivers, other students all saw this occur and some tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen. Others just watched the chaos unfold without uttering a word. I can’t blame them, he was very intimidating. He was a wrestler and very built, I even questioned if he was on some sort of performance enhancing drug. It would explain the angry outbursts, but that could just be who he is.
He was smart, he never left marks where anyone could see. I hid my broken ribs from my family and friends. Most of his marks were invisible though. He broke me completely and molded me into someone I didn’t recognize. But I was in love, I was blinded by love and couldn’t see the signs.
When he took my virginity, he repeatedly told me how filthy I am and afterwards, made me scrub myself raw while he watched. He took something beautiful and made it ugly, I’ve seen myself as filthy ever since.
Now that I am older, I see the red flags. It wasn’t love, it was abuse. I see that now. I was finally able to leave by breaking up with him over the phone. He threatened to kill himself and then his mom called me, yelling at me asking what I did to her son. I hung up on her and never spoke to him again. It was summer at the time and I didn’t see him again until the next school year where he would threaten my life if I ever told a soul. I never did, but people knew. They saw it happen for their own eyes.
I am one of the lucky ones. I survived, I got out. Not many can say that. I just want other people to see the signs and get out if you can. If you can’t, there are resources out there for you to help. It takes an incredible amount of strength and support, but you can do it!
When I was in college student, I lived a few blocks away from some relatives. I had a standing invitation to eat at their house every Sunday night – no need to call ahead, just show up. As a starving college student, you would think I would take advantage of that, but I only went a handful of times.
Spending time with that family was painful.
You see, they had a sick game they liked to play in their family. If it had a name, it would be called “Let’s pick on April until she cries.”
April and I were very close. She had her issues, but I adored her. I have come to discover from reading the stories on this site that her mother (and possibly her father) were narcissistic. They had two “golden children,” who could do no wrong, one child who was sort of neutral, and then April was the scapegoat for the whole family.
Almost immediately after sitting down to a meal, they would start in on April. Everyone would talk about their day, but when she would try to talk, they would belittle everything she said. Nothing she ever did was good enough, and everything she said was stupid or unimportant. They would dig and push buttons until the tears fell.
I will never forget the look of satisfaction on that woman’s face when she had succeeded in destroying her daughter.
Again.
A mother is supposed to be a source of comfort and support to her children. Being a mother now myself, I can’t even comprehend how a mother can destroy her child day after day, after day.
April is married with her own kids now. And I still cringe when I hear her call her mother “Mama.” The woman never earned that title.
