Breaking Free

To start off, all of this is true; this is me getting everything off my chest, out into the world, in an effort to maybe, just maybe, help other people feel a little less lost and alone.

None of this is for the faint of heart, and if abuse, self-harm, or even general negativity isn't for you, I strongly recommend that you do not read any further because I will be talking about it and discussing it frequently. My story is dark and twisted, but the purpose of me sharing this with the world is to hopefully be able to let it go and move past it all. I will officially start this by explaining the unhealthy mental state I had, and where I am now.

It's been almost two years since my parents kicked me out, and in my time away from my abuser I have learned that my perception of the world was wrong. I grew up being told life isn't worth it, you can't trust anyone, and that the outside world is dark, lonely, and unrelentingly cruel. Key word there being "unrelentingly" because I do still believe the world is cruel to a certain extent. But in the 21 months and 22 days I've been out of the reach of my abuser, I've learned that I have to trust people and that the world isn't dark and lonely so long as I don't let it become that way.

My abuser was my mother, the very woman who brought me into this world. She got pregnant with me at the age of 16, and I came into this world when she turned 17. She didn’t have a choice in having me because my grandparents said she “had to deal with the consequences of her actions.” This is where everything started; my mother had many issues growing up including being diagnosed with BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) at the age of 14, and I’m sure many other unchecked-for issues like a Bipolar Disorder and PTSD.

Most of my childhood I was told I was a mistake, and when I was in high school, she changed that to “you were a mistake I made, but you’re a mistake I’m glad I made.” That, despite how horribly "sweet" it may be, didn’t make me feel any better about being a mistake. I still felt as if I had no value and that everyone’s lives, especially my mothers, would be better if I never existed. Some days I still struggle to find value in myself, but my friends, the family I still talk to, and my boyfriend all help me see just how much they need and value me. If it weren’t for them I’m not sure I’d be here right now.

I grew up surrounded by negativity and hate, and that’s the attitude I developed. Some days I fall back into that mindset, but most days I find the positivity in everything because there is too much good in this world to focus on what negativity is in it. I’m trying my best to come out of my isolated shell, but I’m still struggling even with all the people in my life helping me; not because they don’t do enough to help me, but because I am still so broken and unconfident in myself that I struggle to want to leave it. I was dealt a not-so-great hand by life, but I'd like to think I'm doing the best I can with what was given to me.

This is my story, my truth, my hope, and maybe my way to make peace so that I may be free of the broken chains I still carry with me.