Breathe Before You Act

Before I got a tattoo done beneath those beautiful scars I had others beneath them. At first glance people see my artwork displayed on my body, but under the black lines lie physical and emotional scars that are still healing. Since I was a child I’d begin life on a shaky start, I was born into homelessness and had the usual childhood traumas that followed me to adulthood, mainly the ones I tried to forget. I was full of so much anger inside that I turned to alcohol and drugs to self medicate my issues. I even went to therapy to help me get better, but all of it felt like a tidal wave forcing me back under. As a child I was considered to be the odd one out compared to other kids throughout my school years. Instead of women I preferred men, however I dated women because that was the gender structure I’d grown up with, when I realized I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with a woman I spent three years just making a mistake after another followed by several choices which defined me in the eyes of many others. In my world I was alone...after all a fuck up meant nothing if they didn’t at least “get over their problems” advice was everywhere I went but it always went along the lines of “If you weren’t gay then maybe...” or even at times “If you just acted normal then...” however the worst comment came from my mother “If I would’ve known I was gonna have a child like you I wouldn’t have had you in the first place”. Growing into all these words from friends and family made me at the time feel worthless and even my existence felt pointless. I have both burned and marred skin from the rage I felt inside, not just rage but also disgust. I slept with one too many people out of spite that one day I got high with a man I considered a friend, due to many reasons I won’t ever mention his name, however I will never forget their faces. The pit I buried had collapsed and one day this friend of mine, along with a stranger I didn’t know, took advantage of me while I was riding one of my highs and I was raped. I felt sick to my stomach to the point where even though I had cheated on my girlfriend at the time, I couldn’t even begin to explain to someone that loved me that my rape happened because I went out with a man I’d been with before. That’s the traumas that come with rape, your voice quiets down to barely a whisper, your reflection makes your own skin crawl, and no matter what you do the kindness behind someone’s touch won’t ever feel comforting. I hated my own flesh with a passion, I hated what the men did to me, I hated how I felt inside, but I blamed myself for what happened and instead of dealing with it head on I’d push it to the side because when I drank and snorted a line of coke or smoked meth I would soon forget what happened, yet when I’d wake up I would find out from my family that I’d been a mess the night before. From the videos that my family showed me I couldn’t finish the amount of destrustion and self sabotage I would contantly do. I had so much self guilt that I failed to realize that I was not only hurting myself, I was hurting my family and friends too. I started to cut my body hoping that it would somehow soothe the pain, it did for a while, however that is when my nightmares began. I couldn’t sleep, eat, or even move I lost all my motivation towards life. The day I finally stopped binging was due to two reasons, the first was when I realized my nephew was watching me and suddenly repeated what I was saying...”I hate myself” it was a broken record and hearing a small child of 4 saying what you as an adult is one of many wake up calls that will happen before one day they just stop. The second happened when I tried to kill myself. I forgot how many times I tried but it was the second time in a mental ward that I decided to seek help for my alcoholism. No matter how much someone helps or claims to care, it’s as if mental illness forces a person to view themselves as so un-unique that eventually you just give up. Giving up was never in my vocabulary. I found myself a month later and still in the same spot. Drunk and coked out laying in my room covered in blood. My bed was ripped apart and my book case was halfway across the floor, glass had cut my skin open from my collection of snow globes, and my art was ripped and shattered against the walls. I needed to restart, continue somewhere that I would never again repeat that night. I started to quit smoking, doing drugs, and now I limit myself to a few beers a day instead of 47+liquor. I will not forget my family’s words or even my friends for that matter. I lost my first love to betraying her trust, I destroyed my marriage before a ring was even presented to me officially, and I ruined almost every other relationship after that because my emotions always got the better of me. My tattoo is made up of a heart, the sand krist symbol for breathe, the branches of a willow, and eyes with my Astological sign, the moons, and a sunflower and a rose. They mean “Breathe My Heart And Your Mind Will Ascend”. It was through my own soul searching that I finally found myself again. I had to learn to break before I learned how to officially bend and take the weight of the obstacles that appeared in my future. I have faced hatred, rage, depression, frustration, stress, and more. I’ve also faced many laughters and joys and I’ve met some of the most amazing people. The day I was sent to the hospital I remember crying and saying “I don’t want to die knowing that I have never lived” there is no worse heartache then feeling yourself letting go of life unwillingly and watching your younger sister break down your bedroom door only to find you with a blade in your hand and your arm covered in blood. I’d made my family cry in the past however seeing the looks on their faces broke a part of my heart. To this day many people that have told me they love me have held a special place in it for a long time, I hope they continue to live happily. I still drink alcohol but I no longer drink more than less than a quarter of a 140 ounce, I do drugs every so often but now it’s medicinal marijuana to help with my anxiety, and I still smoke cigarettes as well. I no longer do meth or coke or even heroine. The small victories made me who I became and no one in this world can take that power from me. The men who took the last of my youth allowed me to open my eyes to people that didn’t have good intentions for others, the hateful words towards me only prepared me to fight my own battles in the outside world and no amount of words can hurt me, finally I learned to love myself like the man I deserve to be. I’m still healing on the inside, but it doesn’t mean we’re broken or useless. We are butterflies who’s environment is being destroyed by greedy hands and there is nothing and nobody in this world who can take your beauty away. I wish I knew this sooner before I turned 21. I kept the pattern of hate going on and eventually I managed to stop it. To this day I am now in love again, I have a boyfriend of five months who’s also been my friend for three years through the ups and downs of my personality, I have a supportive family that loves and cares for me, and most of all I never let go of my morals to get ahead in life. I learned to hold myself and others on a pedestal so that we keep holding others and ourselves accountable for our actions, and if there’s changes that occur to keep allowing yourself to grow and expand. The words “I am“ will define you. If I could give myself advise I would hug and kiss myself everyday to remind younger me just how beautiful he really was and I’d say “Don’t let your own words come out of another mouth because that will set the course of how others will treat you later in life, be better than them because one day you’ll see and feel more than you think”. It is hard to recognize your own worth when you’re your own harshest critic, be glad if your different and see yourself in a new mirror. Just like you outgrow your clothes, allow yourself to grow into a new and enlightened mindset. Treat yourself better before you save anyone else. Thank you for reading my story.