i actually have a pretty big headache right now..and i realize that the longer i lay down the worse i am feeling headwise..so writing is my drug of choice for the evening...
im not sure really what i even want to say..but again my mind keeps rewinding my back to my chat with heather #2 since i know two heathers now lol..but heather #2 mentioned me writing my story..and in my own backwards way..i refused..pretty sure i came up with a whole lot of excuses..and reasons for why it cant be done...but its been two weeks i think since that conversation and still thoughts about it plauge me..i wonder what would i say..how would i say it..what message would i want to get across...and right now ..i think its very important for me to get my thoughts into words because in trying hard not to hurt myself that means i have to get them out some how...so today its writing...and im going to try hard to not ramble on and on and on and get it simple and to the point...ha thats pretty funny coming from me and my ability to just ramble...
so heres goes...take 1 :
i never really considered that I had a story to tell. i had decided that my life was just depressing and that as long as i kept up the pretense that i was happy then no one would really notice or pay any attention to me. I managed to slip through the radar of everything i did. I was never the best, but i was never the worst. i did enough to stay out of trouble but to not draw to much attention to myself because in my mind attention meant bad things. I guess I got tired of always being on the look out for all the bad things that could and would happen.
I dont remember much about growing up. I was pegged the quiet kid. I did everything i was supposed to do and grew up in a household with a lot of foster children. I guess you could say i was one of the lucky ones. i was adopted as a baby with my twin sister, who did not make it past 3 years old due to a medical condition. I was in trouble a lot growing up, I was blamed for things that i didnt do but still i was punished for it. At some point I realized that defending myself did not help the situation. If my mom said I had done it then she was right and i was wrong. I learned to believe that I was bad, awful, and not good enough no matter what i did or didnt do. I led a very sheltered life, i lived with a lot of brothers and sisters, we traveled, did family things, on the outside we were a lovely family. my mom was the most giving person, she must have been very giving to have adopted so many of the foster children that she kept.
it is not common knowledge that my brothers and sisters and i are all adopted. i know and found out by accident. fear of what my mom will do to me keeps me from saying anything about it. I am not allowed to talk about my sister, and sometimes i worry that no one remembers her anymore. I grew up thinking that i had two sets of parents and neither wanted me. I wanted my mom to send me back to the adoption agency since i always seemed to be in trouble for some wrong that i had done. i prayed for her to tell me to just leave but she never did and i just the unspoken rules of the household. i went to school, and spent a lot of my free time with my mom at her job. she could tell you where i was at any time of the day. I did not ask to do much because i had already been told that i was only good enough for cleaning. I was compared to my brothers and sisters for not being like them. i tried so hard to be like them and when i failed at it, my self esteem just continued to fall. i was always being told that i was selfish, mean, and bad. i believed her and no one could get me to understand anything different. she was my mom, why would she lie to me about this? she would tell me that it was better that i heard all of it from her because she loved me. so i listened to her, took in everything she said, and twisted it all around until i did believe that i was horrible and deserved everything that happened. I grew up in an environment that was not warm or loving but i had all my needs met. i was fed, sheltered, clothed. i dont remember ever getting a hug from my mom when i was younger and i just knew better than to ask for comfort for anything. I closed in on myself. I spoke when i was spoken too, i did not intitate conversation. i didnt have friends because i was always afraid of what others wanted from me. my silence kept me safe but it has also trapped me becuase it is very difficult to let it go.
i did all the normal expected things, i went to school, graduated and then left for college. in my mind college was my chance at freedom but i was not prepared at all to be in the real world and expected to take care of myself. i skipped classes, didnt turn in work, i wasnt out partying. i was just isolating in my room. i was afraid of all of the people that surrounded me who i did not know. i was geniunily surprised when i failed my first semester, i paid for the failure for a long time from my mom. somehow though i stayed in college, and continued to struggle to just manage and survive and get by. i was fighting constant suicidal thoughts, i was doing anything and everything i could to hurt myself because that is what i thought made me feel better. it helped me calm down and focus. still college was a struggle and i continued to fail out of my 2nd and 3rd semesters before it finally hit me that i had to finish college or i would be forced to go back home. home was not a place i wanted to be at all, and so i began to truly work harder to do what i needed to do. i started going to classes but i was still the person hiding in the back of the class with nothing to say to anyone. my major had changed from nursing, to undeclared, to social work over the course of almost 4 years. it wasnt until i began taking the social work classes that i found classes that i could relate too. classes that made sense to me. i excelled within the social work program and thought i had finally found my place in something that i could manage and enjoy. within my classes i began talking to one of my teachers about some of the assignments i was required to do. social work is all about self awareness, self reflection. why did i want to be self aware ? I was cutting, burning, and purging on a daily basis. I saw no reason to be any more self aware or admit to what i was doing. my depression still kept me from interacting with others and getting to classes on a regular basis. i was bouncing in and out of therapy and refused medication. i did not want to be viewed as crazy or having problems. i didnt care but my teachers did care. while in the social work program some of my struggles became known. the head of the department, my teachers, and others who knew me were asked to come to a meeting about me and my place within the program. i was very angry at my teacher for 'telling' on me. i didnt want to talk to any of them, i didnt want them to know anything about what i was doing or struggling with. the meeting was held and i was there for parts of it. A contract was made with very specific conditions for me to abide by if i wanted to stay in the program. I had to go back to therapy and stay in it, i had to let my teachers or adviser know if i was feeling suicidal. i had to check in with them. I hated it. i think i hated all of them for a while because they were forcing me to face issues that i did not want to have to look at. i did end up following the contract with the exception of that suicide ruile. suicide was to personal, i couldnt tell them if i was feeling that badly. i did not want to admit how often i was thinking about and wanting to die at that time. my internship was carefully picked so that i could avoid any extra stress that may cause me to start acting out. i loved my internship at the hospital and really did thank my teachers for taking the time to place me in an area that was different and not as stressful as normal social work internships. it took me almost 6 years but I graduated with my BSW in 2006.
i never thought i would make it past 18, or past 20. Im now 28 and I am still alive. I am working at a job that is flexible enough for me to manage. I am able to work with others and give them support and encouragement, even when I feel that I am not doing anything helpful. i still have daily struggles with depression, anxiety, self harm, and low self esteem. I have been in therapy, I am in therapy, I am working with my doctors to find the right medications that help me stay stable enough so that i can go to work and manage and maintain. i can now recognize the signs of when I am going downhill mentally and sometimes i can stop it and sometimes it just has to take its course. during the hard time i have to be very careful to keep harmful things away from myself, i have to pay attention to my medication so that i do not take to much, i have to work harder to use the coping skills that work for me like writing, making collages, playing games online and reading. i am still in the process of learning to express how i am feeling without fear of being in trouble. my past still affects me a lot of ways and i have been diagnosed with major depression, anxiety disorder, and ptsd with severe self harm. i still have to work daily to talk to others and i do have trouble maintaining eye contact with almost everyone.
I guess its easy to say that things will get better, that things will work out, but that's not completely true. Things can get better but it take a lot of courage to face your fears, to face your past and to be able to move on from it. Things can get worse before they get better, but the key is that no matter how much you try to ignore it, escape it, lie about it, in the morning it will still all be right where you left it. It is not fun knowing that I am so different, knowing that my mind doesn't work right at times, when all i want to do is fit in. i am learning that it is more important to accept myself where i am right now and not try to skip ahead or go backwards anymore. It has taken a long time for me to even admit that i was abused, physically, emotionally, mentally, and sexually. Yes they are things that have happened to me, and that i have lived through, but they are the past now. Now i am able to protect myself, and make choices that are right for me. Healing takes a lot of time and effort and it may seem like you are just making baby steps both backwards and forwards, but eventually it will be easier to maintain the forward steps and find peace and happiness within yourself because life keeps going on and it is your choice how much of a part of it you are.
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