If I Could I'd Sit this Out.

Yeah, another day down. I can't even keep track of the days lately. They all string together. Luckily, nothing is outstandingly horrible that makes each day a living hell. So that is an improvement. But there are only smart parts of each day that are actually enjoyable.

Last night I played the nostalgia card.& Luckily I didn't lose my hand with that move. I actually won, or played well at least. I decided to read a bit of a journal I kept last year. Unlike this blog, I didn't really keep up with it, so there isn't much in it. But it did reveal just how far I've come. How much progress I've made. & it truly is evident.

The first few entries were from a long time ago. Before I even began to open up to Shelly. When I was in complete denial. Entirely. I questioned why I was so upset. Thinking I had absolutely no reason for my depression. Wondering why I had been depressed all of my life. I actually wrote: "Some might say it is good to escape reality from time to time as I do. But I am not sure what I am trying to escape. I should be happy. Always. Everything & anything I want, I can most likely get. My future looks bright & filled with opportunity. Yet I don't even know if I want to have one. Honestly. I am not content. I am not happy. It's not that I'm only unhappy some of the time, but it seems like every moment. I have never been consumed by joy.. I've mastered the creation of a facade. Most, if not all, of those around me falsely believe that I am completely happy. But I feel broken. A shell of myself. Sometimes completely numb. I function, walk, speak, eat without feeling anything. I don't understand my despair. I couldn't tell you where it stems from. Why I'm unhappy. I think it comes from a dislike of myself. But nothing else is really wrong with me life."

Where the fuck was I? I remember the night I spoke with Shelly, at a real low, & opening up about the abuse. I honestly didn't realize that it was something wrong. That is was abnormal. Wasn't a part of everyday life behind every other closed door. It took a lot of "yeah, it's bad. It's abuse" from Shelly before the idea that it wasn't right even began to sink in. So much denial. I could feel how deeply upset I was. How depressed I was, well still am, but I honestly didn't know why.

But I know why now. I know who to blame. & I feel like a bit of blame can be scattered to everyone in my life. Obviously my parents carry a heavy load of responsibility, but everyone else gets there share too. ow about everyone who still hurts me. All the time, I find new bruises (not just the real ones) upon my heart. I don't know if it's a mistake that I have suddenly relocated it to my sleeve. How about a bit for every fucking person in my life who has no fucking idea. They can't go by without a bit of responsibility.

But I can't escape it either. I am a big factor as to why I'm so fucked up. Well I'm changing. I'm realizing what I do & don't deserve. But that doesn't mean anything, when you can only play the hand that's dealt.

Farewell all, another will be coming shortly.

Webster defines it, but how real can that be?

Dictionary.com defines abuse as:
-verb
1. to use wrongly or improperly; misuse
2. to treat in a harmful, injurious, or offensive way.
3. to speak insultingly, harshly, and unjustly to or about
4. to commit sexual assault upon.
5. Obsolete. to deceive or mislead.
–noun
6. wrong or improper use; misuse.
7. harshly or coarsely insulting language
8. bad or improper treatment; maltreatment.
9.a corrupt or improper practice or custom
10. rape or sexual assault.
11. Obsolete. deception.
-Idiom
12. to abuse oneself, to masturbate.

Well. That's how it's defined so that must be it, right? Well, then you've never been the subject of the verb or had the noun used against you. Maybe you've gotten number 12 down, but that's something we're not going to delve into today. (Or ever.)

To treat in a harmful way. Well, that doesn't quiet cut it. Harmful can be very misleading. Harmful is such a vague word. I feel that these two syllables can not accurately describe years of verbal & physical attacks. Harmful isn't the word I'd use to describe her actions. Does just harmful give rise to the thoughts of suicide? Does just harmful breed the self-hate I have so incredibly strong for myself? Can just harmful induce a feeling of absolutely no self-worth? I really don't think so. This one word just doesn't measure up to what has happened to me. My biggest problem with harmful is that it means a minimal damage that has only a few effects to be felt. That the thing harmed, has a chance of full recovery. That everything can be reversed.

Well I'm sorry, this "harmful" behavior that is a pillar in my life can't just vanish. No matter how much progress I make or how new a person I become, the scars of my past will always exist. In all honesty, I do want to get better, but more importantly I want to grow in the right direction. I don't want to become a person with out a hard past, I want to be someone who is better because of their past. So I can be in recovery. Be in remission. But I can never be a person who never experienced abuse.

So if harmful isn't the right word to use, what is? How about: crippling? Malicious? Damaging? Toxic? Unbearable? Painful? For as a victim, that's how I feel. I don't feel like I was harmed. I feel like the pain I have endured has crippled me. Left me unable to form relationships. Unable to trust. Unable to love without fear. I feel as though she was, & still is, malicious towards me with her words & had absolutely no intention but to hurt me. Toxic. I have had a poison in my life that has weakened or diminished whole aspects of me. Shut me down, like organs fighting a disease. Things become too difficult, too unbearable, & I become so withdrawn that for 19 years no one knew anything really about me.

I believe the harsh & coarse language is hitting the mark. But it's missing the effects. That after countless numbers of "fat" & "ugly" that a person can't look in the mirror. That I can't even face myself. I see pictures & I just think it is a different person whose face doesn't belong to me. It is frightening that I can look in a mirror & not know the person staring back at me. With hollowness & fear in her eyes. Harsh & coarse words like "failure", "annoying", "stupid" lead to problems with basic skills. Like interacting with people, connecting with someone, communicating, & trust.

Trust is one of my biggest issues & should be somewhere in that definition. Not having the ability to trust the basic people in your life: your parents, how can you trust anyone else? In the end you can't. It's amazing I can somewhat trust myself. & even if you put trust in someone, you still doubt that you won't let them down or they you. Shelly is the greatest thing (not even person) in my life. She will never be able to understand what she really means to me. & for that my trust falters a bit. I know she would never want to abandon me, but because she truly doesn't understand, she might without even knowing so. She will never understand she is all I have. That she means everything to me. She means everything to nothing. & I can't help but fear that the trust won't be broken. Oh my, don't think that I believe she will abandon me because of her. No no. I don't trust myself in this matter. I think that I will fuck everything up. & I will lose her. That's why I don't trust people. A part of me protects myself from being hurt even more than I have.

Because I've never had much, I always thought it was because I didn't deserve anything more. But now I'm starting to see that I do deserve a Shelly. But I have to work at it. Have to keep myself & my dependency in check.

I'm chronicling progress right? Well, this sure is progress. I truly dislike the "a" word. I haven't ever said it out loud (I don't think). I have to realize what I'm going through in order to change it. I have to admit to myself that I am being abused in order for me to move on. & therefore I am. I am taking a step forward.

I am, & have been all of my life, abused.
I don't deserve the treatment I've received.
I will grow from it.
I will not lose any more than I have from it, that's you Shelly.
My mother has taken away the better part of me, but she won't take away the best thing I've found on my own.

So with those statements I'll leave whoever's out there. Farewell.

"I never yet heard man or woman much abused that I was not inclined to think the better of them, and to transfer the suspicion or dislike to the one who found pleasure in pointing out the defects of another."~ Jane Porter

When you're at the bottom, you can only go up.

Well, in order to chronicle my progress, I guess I should tell about the small steps I've already made.

The first step I made--more like I picked myself up, brushed off my shoulders, & prepared to take a step--was to admit to myself the truth that I had been denying myself of all of my life. I had always believed my mother when she said I was a failure & that I would amount to nothing no matter how hard I try, because in the end I never do anything right. Well, I had to admit to myself that I wasn't failing at meeting my mother's expectations because they were unattainable. Although I had this hate for myself & a belief that I was good for absolutely nothing, it was harder to admit that I would never make my parents proud of me. I also decided that I would no longer live to try to please my parents, because I'm obviously unhappy & my parents still don't approve.

The second step I made was a decision. I decided to protect myself by not going on a vacation with my parents. I pretended to be sick, & have the flu. But my mother would have made those two weeks hell, & instead I enjoyed them.

The last step I made was actually just taken today. I had been living with a room mate who was disrespectful to me & was a main cause for my dislike of college life. So I decided to apply for a single room. To my surprise my wish was granted & today I moved to a new room. My roommate, who was a friend of mine from high school, has defriended me, & I feel bad that she is so upset, but I know that in the end, this step will help me down the path to happiness.

Well, that's the progress I've made. I know that it's really not much, but you have to start somewhere.
I owe all of this progress to Shelly. I couldn't have gotten through without her. I love her & "I owe [her] everyday I wake" ~Brand New.
Farewell.

Too Much Exposition.

Ah, no such thing. Well I guess in order for progress to fully be understood, the place I'm coming from needs to be put into context. So here is a what you need to know. The basics. A crash course. I'm sure details will weave themselves into my future posts, but here we okay:

So I'm 19. Yeah, young for such a bleak outlook on life, I know. But I was never really a kid, so I've had about 19 years of adulthood. I grew up as an only child in a semi run down neighborhood. My parents met in a bar (how romantic) & wed a year later. Never wanting to really settle down & have children, my abrupt addition to their life really screwed things up for them. Although their dreams were crushed, they never let them go. Instead they held on to them--but not as something to aspire to but rather something that could have been.

My dad and I are like neighbors. We know each other's names & are courteous to one another when we pass each other, but don't know what goes on behind closed doors. The sad part is, we live behind the same closed door, he just doesn't bother to venture very far into the home he's created. Home is a generous word. I defiantly live in a house that has never been a home. Sure, there are nick-knacks on shelves & furniture & personal rooms. But there isn't a family living in this house, so that "home" feeling just doesn't exist. Well, the family can't be a family if the father figure isn't present. Sure, he's there but he isn't a part of my life. He always worked long hours, so he was gone most of the day. Although when he came home, he'd proceed to watch television in the "family" room where I'm guessing family bonding is supposed to take place. Well, if that's so, I feel that the child should be allowed in when her father is in the room. As I've gotten older, my father has started working less hours, but he & I still rarely interact. I go weeks without saying a word to him. Now that I'm at college, he doesn't call. Well, because he doesn't care to know.

With a life she never wanted, a child that constantly fails, & a distant husband, my mother has a lot of aggression. I understand, she has a life she didn't ask for & had no control over. She was happy until shit just rained down. It has poured for over 19 years, & Noah's not coming for her with an ark. She hates her past, despises her future, & fears the consistency of life in the future. Like a wild animal suddenly caged without warning, she has a lot of aggression. She hates her life & guess where it turned towards hell? That's right, when she had a baby suddenly dropped in her lap. A baby she didn't want. Yeah, I know I know, she could have had an abortion if she really didn't want to have you. Nope, she had a freak pregnancy where she didn't find out she was pregnant until she was 6 months into the pregnancy & that was too late to terminate. So if this mistake ruined her life, it was to blame. When she got angry--it was where she released her emotions. She had very high standards in place for me all of my life. So high in fact, that I can't even tell you really what she was looking for. & of course I was never good enough, smart enough, thin enough, pretty enough, nice enough, I was never enough. & you must punish what fails. I was always pointed out the mistakes I made. All of them. & there have been many. & when she was having a bad day. A bad week. A bad year. I'd know. & I'd have the wounds to prove it.

They say you are what your parents made you. They hate me. I've heard. So I hate myself. If I can't even please the people who are supposed to love me unconditionally, how am I to love myself? I can't. I don't. I see myself for all of my countless flaws. I disgust myself so much I can't even face my reflection. I sometimes wonder how anyone can stand to look at me. & then I think "they look past it to see my inside" but then I know that doesn't work because my inside isn't pleasant either. I understand why I have few close friends, & it amazes me that I have them, because I don't even enjoy my own company. My mother always takes her anger out on me, & I do the same. For five long years of my life I practiced self mutilation. I've stopped now. It was hard, but I haven't relapsed since I told myself no. I can't say I wouldn't have been able to stay "clean" if it weren't for Shelly, but I still haven't hurt myself in 9 months. & I'm proud.

Besides my close relationship with self harm, I almost attempted suicide when I was 14. Yeah, those years were rough. But I was tired of life. With a note written, & the plan laid out, I was ready to take my life. However, I had never been happy. Never. & I wanted to know what that felt like. I couldn't die not knowing happy. Because I'm sure happy is something to live for. & believe me, it is. I've spent 19 years searching for that feeling. True happiness. & I found it less than a week ago. I couldn't believe that I could feel that way. No care in the word. Nothing in my mind, my heart, my body but joy & love. Real love. If you haven't felt that before, stick it out until you do. Because I don't think I lived until that day. & although I'm terrified that I will never feel that again, I won't give up trying.

Man, that's a lot of bad. Why not some good? Well, last entry I said that I had been at the bottom until a few months ago when I finally began my journey to the life I wanted. The life I deserved. I can't take credit for my change, because I couldn't have done it without my best friend, Shelly. She was with me every step of the way, even though she was getting lost with me. But we found the light. I truly love her. I don't think I love my parents. I do, because they raised me & gave me the necessities & are kind a lot of the time. But I don't think I love them. I always thought I did, until I realized I loved Shelly, then I realized what real love is. & what it feels like to be loved in return. The only reason being happy trumps loving is because Shelly was a part of my happiness.

So I'm on the long road of change, but I believe I'm headed in the right direction. & at least I have a co-passenger beside me all the way. & to be honest, I don't know if I would want to make the long journey without her to share it with when I get there.

So I said this was a crash course, well I might have lied a bit. But farewell for now, if anyone is even listening.

My favorite quote: "You are calm & reposed. Let Your Beauty Unfold."