I admit that I wish I had a childhood where I was always happy and enjoyed being a kid, where I had parents who cared about me. I wish I had parents who had a child for reasons other than just wanting to make them do everything they didn’t want to do. I wish I had parents who loved me unconditionally, who wouldn’t have told me to go away whenever I just wanting to be with them. I wish I had the opportunity to have a loving relationship with my parents from the start, instead of never being able to have one at all.
I’m not ashamed of what happened because its a part of me, its a part of my story. Is it upsetting to me, absolutely. I would do anything to go back to when I was a kid and have parents who truly loved me. Parents who didn’t only yell because I wasn’t up to their expectations. While I wish that was the childhood I had, I can’t go back and change it. There is no backspace in life, all we can do is keep moving forward. The one thing that gives me peace is knowing that there are so many kids in the world that will never go through what I did. Kids who will grow up having wonderful parents who love them and know they are perfect just the way they are.
So many nights I have spent in bed crying, trying to muffle the sound so that my parents didn’t hear. It still happens some nights, nights where I don’t even know why I’m crying. Nights where my chest and stomach hurt from crying so hard. Everyone says they see sadness in my eyes, and these are the nights that prove they are right.
There are many days that I remember everything so strongly that I just want to get it all out, details and all, and allow myself to breathe without being crushed by what happened. The days that I feel so much yet feel nothing, as if the world can hurt me but not kill me. The only issue with opening up like this is its basically a game of Jenga, once one piece is taken out, the entire thing can come with it. Thats been the case with many of my emotions lately. I never thought talking about what happened could actually be exhausting, but turns out it can be.
Right now I look at life from two different perspectives, and they switch so quickly sometimes its like being hit by a bus. Sometimes I see life as something I am so beyond thankful for and look forward to the future. Sometimes however, I see life as something I want to run far away from, something I never asked for. There are good and bad moment for everything, they are pretty equal now, and that’s something I never thought would happen. A lot has changed this year, both good and bad, but getting to the point I am at now is as positive as it can get. Im not saying that everything is perfect, because its not, but it so much better than I ever thought it would be.
Honestly, there are days where I just want to quit therapy and stop meds and pretend everything is perfectly okay and act like my problems don’t exist. I know realistically I can’t just pretend nothing ever happened, so I remember where I started. Coming into therapy the first day, scared out of my mind, and going to my car and crying because my anxiety was so high from just going. I look back and remember sitting, waiting to go in and shaking because I was so scared I would be yelled at or something bad would happen when I admitted I was self harming, and it only got worse when I admitted I was suicidal. I remember being so terrified to start meds, terrified to even make the first appointment. But mostly I remember when I finally felt truly safe to talk. Safe from myself. Safe from everything. I remember the first time I went two week without self harming and being so proud that I finally did it, never thinking I would make it to 5 weeks! I remember the first moment I actually thought about how far I have come, and being amazed. I am so proud of myself for still doing this and not giving up, for fighting for myself even when I wished I didn’t.
Little by little, a little becomes a lot.