It has been with me since I was child. Haunting me with self doubt, worries, and fear. Only building up to hate of myself and all that I do.
I can stand in the mirror and find no love for what I see.
Never finding the words to tell myself how much I should really love me.
Disappointing myself on a daily basis it feels.
Somedays so much so.
I pound and I pound my head to to make the demon leave me.
Since I was a child he has haunted me.
I did not have a horrible childhood. I grew up fairly normal.
There are many different circumstance in my life that have lead me to think they way I do.
I moved a few more times I should have.
I grew up with a hard working dad and a wonderful mother.
Five brothers total. Two being foster brothers.
I learned plenty of what not do to do in life.
Especially through my teenage years.
Thats when the depression and anxiety. Really began to be a problem.
The demon growing inside.
Eating hardly anything.
Writng many tearful journals of self hate and so much anger for my parents.
Sounds so typical for a teen.
My dad was forced to retire. He didnt know how to say no to alot.
He was always in pain and suffered mentally.
Bipolar in fact.
Using and abusing his pharmaceutical drugs.
Along with methaphetimine, cocaine, and on occasional heroine.
Telling me so many stories I would rather not have heard.
Stories of molestation and abuse.
Thoughts of feeling worthless with debilitating back problems.
Being told more than a few times at his attempt of suicide.
Watching all this as I grew and not knowing it all until he told me.
Treating me more like a young adult than a innocent child.
Seeing my brothers mess up their lives continuously to. Having children young and abandonding them.
Me always wanting to fix it all.
Wishing on wishes for things to change.
All while my mom “obliviously” sits on the side lines going along with it all. Pretending everything was alright.
I hated it all so much. I hurt so much. My mom hurt. My dad hurt. my brothers sweet babies hurt.
I wanted them to have more and still do.
I was only seven when the first was born and then they just kept coming. I felt the need to be there to show them how to survive. To love them. To show them the world was not so cruel.
It hurt. I was always crying myself to sleep.
I feel in love at fourteen. I had met my best friend soul mate. He broke up with me almost four years later. Left me for another girl.
Two weeks later I lost my dad.
Regardless of it all. My dad was my best friend. He always listened. He had a huge heart and he hurt to.
Life. God was a asshole (excuse me for the vulgarity).
A week before that. He expressed his love for all his kids and my beautiful mother. Planning their 20th anniversary for the following year.
Yet telling me somedays he wished we were never born for this world is to painful.
Maybe I learned it.
I have written hundreds of suicide notes on paper and in my head since I was a mere child.
The monster has never rested.
My early twenties were bit ugly.
Binge drinking weekends away with my best friends only to bring her down in my dispair.
Or spending to much time in the wrong company.
Hurting abeautiful friendships along the way.
Hurting many relationships.
Dating on and off.
Weirdos, druggies, musicians, and leaving “Mr, Perfect behind.
Sleeping most days away
My first attempt was at fifteen.
Wimpy little scratch marks with little carving knife.
My second on accident. Sort of. At 16. Over dosing on pain killers in my room. Down the hall from my oblivious parents.
The third the night I tried to out drink a friend on her 21st birthday.
I wouldn’t let myself love or get close to many.
Then I let it all go.
All that didn’t have to define me.
I met my husband.
He called me rad.
I fell instantly in love.
I wasn’t going to let this one go.
Now I sit in my own beautiful home with my beautiful daughter with every reason to be happy.
Still battling that monster who has haunted me since I was a child.
Crying because I do not want to hurt my beautiful husband.
Crying because I do not want my daughter to learn these horrible thoughts of mine.
To feel the pain of life.
Hating myself for feeling the way my dad did.
This world is harsh. This world is scary.
Evil prevails around us all the time.
Temptation is real.
We bleed red.
and it hurts.
I came across a quote the other day.
When I was feeling low.
For a person with major depression as myself. This quote speaks to me.
Life is PAINFUL.
Death seems like peace.
Life as I have come to realize after my daughters birth.
Is a gift.
Is a blessing.
We are walking mircales.
I want to give my daughter love.
I want to show her that through the pain there is beauty.
I hope she remembers all the good.
That she learns from the bad.
That mommy is not perfect.
Niether is daddy.
That life will not be either.
That giving up is never the answer.
He haunts me daily and it is a battle.
A battle I will fight every day until I am old and gray.
A battle I need to fight openly.
I am not the only one who thinks this way.
Suicudal thoughts are real.
If you ever think it.
There is a problem.
Never keep it to yourself.
There is help out there and if you cant find it with anyone close to you.
Call the suicide hotline.
Saving many lives with one call.
Be aware your not the only one and beaware that others are dealing with more than you can see.
There is a monster inside of me hiding.
I will not let him win.