What happens when you're broken?

What growing up with people who constantly tell you that you cannot do it does to you?

Maybe, just maybe, you were lucky enough to grow up with amazing, loving parents, I say parents because sometimes, a parent can be loving, encouraging and do everything that they can to ensure that you lead a fulfilling life and in turn you will grow up to be a successful person. Although terminology wise, success can mean a lot of things, we will leave this out of the equation for a second and allow everyone to have their own assumptions of what success is because in reality that is what it is, it’s different for each individual. But nevertheless, one parent can be supportive and the other parent could be at the other end of the spectrum of being completely detrimental to your mental health, sometimes even your physical health, not offering support and if any case would rejoice in seeing you fail.

So, I’m speaking from personal experience when I say this but it is obviously different for everyone and it also depends on your cultural background, geographical background and honestly you name it. Many, many factors come into consideration when I say this. But how is it that someone copes when speaking out about domestic abuse is a taboo? How does someone continue to live in a society where perfection is portrayed and speaking about being abused, is like, saying that you should be ashamed of being treated that way, not that the perpetrator be called out or prosecuted. You get told by others that there must a be a reason why they hit you, not “How dare they hit you”. You see in many cases, this is the hard reality, but ever heard someone say, “don’t tell others what happened”? Have you had that told to you? Maybe not. But when you get a metal mug strike your face, when your face is black and blue from the physical abuse that you suffer from and when the person tells you, “You can’t tell anyone that I hit you, because I will kill you and no one can say anything about it”. Well, for me, that’s my life. No. That WAS my life.

Why do you not want to go back? Do you not miss your family? No is the answer. I have been dying inside every day of my life not knowing when is it that I will be hurt again. When I would be verbally abused, be called abusive names, “dog”, “bitch”, “asshole”, all of this in public. Don’t share what your family is like. Don’t tarnish your family name. Don’t let them know. Why? Why? Why? Why do I have to go through this? I realised the sadness that engulfed me when I was 13, didn’t know it was called mental illness, didn’t know it was called trauma. Didn’t know that it was a condition and didn’t know that I could get out of it. What I did know was that I turned my emotions into words, turned my worries onto paper. Placed my heart in a box, suffered in silence. Never told a soul. Kept it silenced. Told my friends that my younger brother kicked the football to my face. Lies after lies, after lies. And she still stayed.

All I wanted was to get out. I am out now. I am free. I don’t want to go back, I can’t go back. I never want to go back. I want to be free. I want to be me. I want my own life. I believe that a woman can have her own life. How do you stay strong when someone says things like, “Good grades aren’t going to do the cleaning, you have to learn how to clean the house before you can even think of having good grades”. I’m sorry, what? When I got an award for being top student, he embarrassed, called me names and asked me to wash the toilet. He said I will amount to nothing. He has no respect for me. I never will forget these words and I will never let someone else go through the same things that I have experienced be experienced by other people as well.

But you’re so happy, how is it that you’re so happy. You don’t know me. That’s why you don’t know my story. But my story isn’t even about me. It’s about how people accept the condition that they’re in but some retaliate and that’s me. You see, in this world there are people who go through so much pain, so much so that they learn to accept it. But some people turn against it and run from it and I know that’s why my relationships with friends have been so challenging because it’s hard for me to maintain friendships with people. It’s hard for me to put myself out there. It’s hard for me because all I want to do is run. All I want to do is be safe. All I want to do is be human. All I want to do is be happy and that’s what I aspire to be. To be happy and to make other people feel good about themselves because I know what it’s like to have people diss you at every opportunity that they have. The people that were meant to make you feel safe and who were meant to make you feel human, who decided that you are worth dehumanizing. The person who tried to do more things than just hurt you. The person whom I hate and the person that I wish was dead. But I’m not a malicious person, so I chose to run away and I will never go back and I will never see them again. I developed a semi-photographic memory from the trauma that I faced as a child, and I personally never knew that I could.

But I’ve been so interested in psychological experiments because my brain just processes things in a very different way. But this is the truth, this is me and there’s no point of hiding it anymore. I have been embarrassed to let people know about my past, but this is not a reflection of me and I have only now learnt to embrace this and that I am more than how people treat me and that’s why I never let anyone make me feel like I’m less than a priority because I never stay otherwise.

This may be something unexpected but it’s time that I shared that in this world, people may feel like everyone who is sunshine and happiness are just that. Recognise that there is more to someone than just how they seem outside and recognise that the person that you think I am, is not a true reflection of me. I don’t care about what people think of me mainly because I know they don’t know me well enough. I’ve never let anyone close enough to know me. But here’s a side to me that no one knew anyway.

Till’ my next post. xx