That’s what I have become in the last six or so months.
And in no way am I saying that this is a bad thing…as a matter of fact, it is the farthest thing from bad that I can think of in this very particular moment.
All those months ago I was angry, hurt, depressed, severely anxious, and those are just to name a few. Not to say that I am no longer those things, but I handle them so differently. My emotions are no longer scary. They are no longer something to fear by other people.
As a child I didn’t think much about my roller coaster of emotions. I didn’t think a whole lot about the random fits of anger or the manic laughter I would have after someone pissed me off or I made them angry. Actually, I don’t think I thought about things much at all. I let my emotions control my life. Whatever I felt I portrayed. I would say such hurtful things and sometimes I would wake up in a fit of rage. I remember specifically one morning I was especially angry. I stomped around the house before school calling everyone a cow and just continued name calling until it was time to leave. My mother laughed in the background, which only encouraged me to continue on my rampage.
As a teen I began to become a lot more familiar with sadness. Sadness became a close friend of mine. I was severely OCD, which made day to day life almost impossible at times. Specific door knobs were deemed dirty, I thought people had planted cameras in the stuff at the store to watch me (although thats more paranoia than anything), constant hand washing and use of sanitizers, and I could not and would not touch anything or use anything if it had fallen on the floor. The list became so long and so frustrating. The rituals became part of my normal, every day life. It was exhausting. I don’t think my parents understood how it really brought me down to live that way.
Overall, I have always been somewhat good at hiding my true emotions. I can slap on a smile, fake a laugh, find a light in the blackest of nights. But this was all manufactured, fake happiness. I would lay in bed at night wondering why it had to be me. Why did I hate my life so much? When you hear the phrase “misery loves company”, it is not wrong. I would begin to associate myself with friends who also had problems that were similar to mine. This only added fuel to my fire.
When everything went down with my parents (story for another day), I really spiraled out of control. I remember sitting on the floor with all of my things at my grandmas house, trying to unpack, and then falling into a fit of heavy sobbing. I was crushed. At the age of 17, my parents wanted nothing to do with me. A few months after I went to live with my grandma, all communication with my parents ceased. The real spiral began after that. I skipped school, put myself in abusive relationships with friends and guys. Went on dates with people off the internet I had never met before, mourned over the breakup with my on again off again boyfriend, and eventually all of this lead to me not graduating on time. I had put my priorities in a sequence that didn’t even make sense. One day I woke up and just asked myself what the hell I was doing. By the time I realized I needed to fix it, it was too late. I graduated two weeks after my class.
That summer was awful as well. I had never wanted to die so badly. I saw several therapists and none of them clicked with me so I stopped going. I didn’t have a job. Stayed with my abusive friends. I didn’t even know who I was. The only good thing I had in my life was running. At the end of each day I would go run 5 miles. I was in the best shape of my life, physically.
That was all almost four years ago.
It took me four years to get to where I am. Even longer than that if you count my childhood. It took therapy, medications, and the push from outside sources to get me where I am. I was finally ready to help myself.
The person I am today is someone that I would have looked up to as a child. I have my own place, car, insurances, job, I am in college. I am a beautiful, talented, outgoing 21 year old. While my life is not all put together, I am so much better now.
I do tend to lack confidence most days, but that is getting better. I get in a funk every now and then, like today for example has not been my best day, but it is so far from my worst. I still have anxiety just less frequent. I am getting better every day. I am so strong. I know this. I have been through hell and back and I have come out on top. I am proving each day that I’ve got this.
I always say that everything happens for a reason. And while I may not enjoy my past, and I may still be working on my present and future, I would not want to be anywhere or anyone else. I am who I am, and I can finally say that I am proud of that person.