For some complex reasons, I love and hate december; it's such an overwhelming month because it's the time of the year when we look back at our actions, make resolutions and await for a new year.
2010 was an overall difficult year for me. There were some memorable ups, but mostly unforgettable downs. What was forgotten was read back to me and the lessons taught in the form of deceiving and fearing were painful to learn. There were moments when I even started questioning the reason of my useless existence. Nightmares and dreams of flight were frequent. Although difficult, it was also an important year and it will possible be the one I remember the most because this year, I have finally decided to wake up and take the first step in overcoming the fears that caused that decade of silence. This is my first attempt in recognizing the girl I see in the mirror every day; the one I suppressed with the accompanied grief.
"Man, that chick is strong!" I remember that guy, who I barely knew, saying about me. I thought I were too... but today, I finally accepted that I'm definitely not a strong person. I'm just very tough...which is very different from being strong.
I recently stumbled across some psychological articles…I had a hard time reading them because every word was so sharp and heavy on me. However, revisiting the facts did help me understand why I react the way I do and why I always tend to make bad choices. I did many things that normal girls wouldn't do. My life's pattern and behavioral problems were predicted in those research papers with such exactitude that it is hard to believe. Life was never really what I could make it to be; it was prescribed to me too early when I didn't have the power to control nor to protect myself. They say people with similar backgrounds often learn to become perpetrator, an emotionally hurtful one, one that is verbally assaulting and critical. And that really scares me because I can recognize myself along those lines among others that I don't even want to mention. I'm scared to hurt people I love because I know exactly how to hurt them and to eventually become what I were always terrified of. Is that what I’ve become already?
Those who have been close to me at some point should have been able to notice that I'm different…different in a way not to be proud of, perhaps a little strange. When the horrifying incidents occured, I were too young and I didn’t have the knowledge to rationalize things. But even at that age, I already knew that being happy will be harder for me compared to average people. That's how cruel the world is. Even now, I'm still reluctant to ask for help and tell people what exactly happened because it’s shameful; I don't want to be judged and to be misunderstood.
I only told two people. The first time I did was nearly a decade ago, I didn't say it properly because I didn't know how so, I wasn't taken seriously. I wish I were smarter back then. The second time happened more recently, I told someone the truth after denying it. I honestly regretted both times and I should’ve kept it to myself. We all know that quote right? "I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not" I'm still amazed, in more ways than one, every time I hear it. What if no one will love you after they know what you actually are? They often say how they love my self-confidence...but what if that's merely an overbearing conceitedness that covers an incredibly low self-esteem? What if that face is a just pretty shell that masks a troubled personality? What if those long legs and short skirts are just what I use to shield my weaknesses and insecurities?
I used to remind myself that I’m strong and nobody needs to know about the horrors of my childhood, the past doesn’t affect me. When you repeat a lie too many times, you eventually end up believing it, so I grew up thinking that I’ve left it behind. The truth is that not only I haven't but, it is reflected in all facets of my life. Over the years, on different occasions, I would encounter people or find myself in situation that triggers the memories of that trauma and I would burst out of anger or tears. People would think I’ve lost my mind...and then after the fact, I would act normal again and tell people that I don’t have an idea why it happened. Deep inside, I knew exactly why but I wasn’t strong enough to face it. I remember one time, I was sent to the ER twice in one month. When the doctor came in, he asked me a few questions and commanded me to do something. I started feeling uncomfortable and anxious ...like the way it used to be when I were younger, when I were vulnerable and didn't have control over my body. The next thing I know, I started crying out loud. He was probably shocked that I acted that way so he called in the nurses. Their eyes...they all looked at me like I were some abnormal creature. They must have thought that I were crazy. And maybe I were actually as crazy as everyone thought.
I know I’m not the most unfortunate one though. I were lucky enough to cross paths with someone who helped me out. I never encountered someone that I can say was really strong, but I can tell with certainty that Kevin is one of the strongest people I know. Not many understand why I still keep my promises even after so long...but he was really the only one who never let me down, so of course I have to. I never promise anything to anyone but when I do, I keep them forever. He was very generous...the most generous on the planet and he didn’t even have an idea. He was responsible, tolerated me and my flared tempers, respected me for who I am...he really was a real man. It brings tears to my eyes just to know that, once upon a time, I was a princess. Once upon a time, someone real was there entirely for me...at least once. That marked the turning point in my life. It was because of him that I know it's still possible to trust someone, to care about them genuinely without fearing that they use our weaknesses to affirm their power and I learned to appreciate the small things in life. I owe him everything
...I have to mention that we barely speak the same language so he can't lie to me even if he wanted to, ha. Just kidding. No but seriously, that's the good thing because communication was never a big problem: Whatever he wanted to tell me, he had to show me with actions rather than redundant words. Although we each have to go our own separate ways now, I’m still thankful I met him.
I was actually already on the right path for recovery after that. I was positive and loving life. Sometimes, I smiled like an idiot for no reason. I felt like a newborn again. Unfortunately, I was really the only one who improved, the cruelty of this world only worsened. Surrounded by all those dirty lies, I have to admit that it was hard to remember the things Kevin taught me without anyone reminding me… but I tried hard and stopped being so aggressive. But certainly, the story never ends just right there. The closer I get to feelings, the further that I'm feeling from alright. The more I step into the sun, the more I step out of the light. One day, someone brought the memories from that trauma back and reinforced them. I was told to get affection is to put out sexually. That was the last thing I wanted to be reminded of. Something I’ve been wrongly taught in my childhood. Something I tried to move away from. I can't even find the right words to describe the way that person made me feel; it was lower than low. Despite that, I were not strong enough to respect my boundaries and to burn the bridges. I even feel guilty…was I really the one who asked for it? That was when I fell back down that self-destructive path bearing a grudge that I'm still not able to let go.
Sometimes, when our lives are so difficult and then something fantastic that we've been longing for so long comes about, we end up feeling like we're not worth it. And I remember how I always found the most unreasonable excuse to push them away. I did that too many times. What was not broken, I destroyed. I'm so hyper-vigilant and restlessly in control of everything that I came to believe that I’m smart for being able to see through people’s bullshit. The truth is that I actually have a hard time judging people's trustworthiness. On the other hand, I would stick around those that reflect the energy of what I'm terrified- the controlling type. I would play the victim and fall in that doormat syndrome. I clearly knew it was just gross psychological manipulation because victims know how to be victims; no one should believe a word that comes out of my mouth. My lies are so believable that even I, sometimes, happen to believe them. Maybe that’s a self-abusive pattern that stems back too far and too early in my life.
Today, I'm an adult and I'm knowledgeable enough to understand that I wasn't the one at fault, but knowing the theory is useless when the mind do not sync with the body. I know those two entities were divided apart too early to fix them right now. It is maybe too late for me to make it right.
That's me, behind that tough girl mask. Still haven’t been strong enough to grow out of it. Still struggling, still trying to recover and still not courageous enough to tell the world. During difficult times, I try to recall of that one time when someone proved me, with actions, the opposite of what I thought would never be possible. I can't be thankful enough for the undeserved love. It gives me hope. Hope is one of the most important things in the world because it can save lives. That’s the best thing Kevin left me with.
…but in all honesty, I'm still angry and I still think that's unfair. Why me? I really could've lived a simpler and happier life. Why do I have to be that girl with tons of issues…those are stains that will follow me and will continue to affect my life until the day I die. Who can I tell? Who will stay and who will go?
That would be my New Year resolution; be stronger. I need to be strong because only strength will get me further, toughness won’t. I need to take better care of myself, respect my own boundaries and stop falling because no one will pick me up again. I still don’t know if I'll be able to recover completely and the percentage of people who actually do is proven to be low…but I'll keep track of my progress in this blog and maybe gradually become more open about it and accept it. I'm not going to forget or suppress those memories again; the goal is to be able to look back on everything objectively and remember the things I learned without feeling the pain that goes along with all these kinds of things. I don't think I ever hesitated that long before posting an entry. And maybe I will never change, y'know. Maybe I will never find myself; the one hidden behind that mask. Maybe I'm just that apathetic. I don't fuckin' know. All I know for sure is that it will be a life-long battle and learning process.
2011 will be a better year, hopefully.