No I’m not leaving the Blogosphere if the title was freaking you all out a little bit.
Needless to say I haven’t been in the right frame of mind at all and I’m still not for that matter. But I’m feeling strong enough to write this and really let you all into my life. It’s gonna be pretty hard for me but I feel like I can’t just keep coming here and making you all worry and just express my hatred for the world without really letting you guys know what happened to make me like this – why I’m so sad all of the time.
I’m going to be getting pretty raw and deep up in this place so if you’re not into that then I’d STRONGLY advise you click out – otherwise, welcome to the story of me – Alex. Otherwise known as the Awkward Expert.
(woah – that was pretty deep)
When I was 10, something pretty gruesome happened to a member of my immediate family. Like as in we were all rushed off to hospital, saw the blood, guts and gore. Well, they did – I had to go to my neighbours house and waited for hours and hours on end before I knew if I would ever get to see them again. But that doesn’t stop me seeing the flashing lights of the ambulances, remembering exactly how many times the policeman knocked on my door, my little 9 year old self standing on my tiptoes, opening the door to their solum faces and remembering every aspect of how they looked.
That was the day I really started to believe in God.
That night I prayed with my neighbours and they taught me how to do it properly. I didn’t just go to church because my family made me. I paid really attention. I listened to the preachings that I heard every single morning at my catholic school. And I felt God’s presence all around me and used it to comfort me.
When I heard the news that my family member would live on, my love for God only heightened. I felt like nothing could ruin my family and it was only up from there.
Boy was I wrong.
Things only got worse. Even though I was the youngest in my household, I now had to start looking after myself. Everyone was too busy looking after themselves and that family member (who I’m gonna start calling “him”) that they had no time for me. I never even had a 10th birthday party – nor an acknowledgement that it was my birthday either. Instead we had a celebration of life for him and I know I sound selfish but although I loved him just as much as they did, it’s like I was completely forgotten in my own home. Just like a ghost.
Since then, he spiralled out of control, got on the wrong side of the law and yet they still LOVE him. Cherish him like he’s their only child. Like he even loved them back. He KNEW he was using them and he milked it allll up. They lost thousands and thousand worth of money because of him and yet he was still a king and I was scum of the earth – or at least that’s what it felt like.
I felt like I couldn’t even be myself at church anymore when every time we went we would just pray for him over and over and over again. I loved him so so so much but why did they all forget I existed. Why did they forget anyone BUT him existed.
Anytime I tried to tell them what he was doing, I was called “evil” or “stupid” or “jealous” and yeah maybe I was jealous, but I sure as hell wasn’t stupid and god forbid that I’m evil.
Since then, I kind of fell out of my religion and haven’t been able to fully believe in it since. Because I’m still living in this hell.
Then secondary school (or high school or whatever) came along and so did the bullying and the eating disorder and the self harm and it all came so quickly and all at once and I had NO ESCAPE. I felt alone at home, at school – everywhere. And the only way that I can honestly describe the feeling is like your heart is sinking down to your feet every single day and no matter how hard you try, you just cannot for the life of you pick it up no matter how hard you try.
Then in October, another event happened again – this time almost killing my mother AND him and it was all his fault. That’s when I vowed to never love or trust him again. He’s dead to me in all aspects. And I saw it all. I can never get that image out of my head. I had breakdowns in school, at home, on the fucking BUS. I never got to live it down. Anddd that’s when the substance abuse started. I mean HEAVY. Now I only use them for recreational use RARELY but then, it was the only thing I could turn to. It’s as if it was my life guard and I clung onto it for dear life.
People started to see my changes. I lost friends, I became antsy, the school authorities gave me in school counselling which mainly consisted of me sitting in silence and then it got worse. They referred me to a Psychologist, I got diagnosed with depression and anxiety. My health physically and mentally was crap, I was spiralling into a downhill tunnel and I never saw light at the end of it. I now have trauma therapy every week but they refuse to give me any drugs and I haven’t slept in ages.
Then exams came around and they didn’t go too well to say the least. I am a smart girl. All of my grades up until those exams have proved so, which is probably why my school, family and myself are confused with the results that I got. My therapist said she wasn’t surprised due to the lack of sleep but now all I do is cry and cry and cry and feel disappointed in myself.
so that was what was going through my mind when I wrote those two posts. I’ve been having a few bad days recently and the words came pouring out. I just wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who was kind enough to help me through those times and to everyone who left a lovely comment. They all made my day and actually cried reading them. They made me realise that maybe I do have something to live for?
Maybe people do care, maybe I’m not alone. I should learn to trust in my friends more and not feel like they don’t care because maybe they do. I hope they do.
Maybe I should learn to love, not just in others but in myself.
Maybe I should learn to always chose life.