So today seems to be a pretty boring, un-motivated day. All I really want to do is look at ads for horses that are for sale and then dream about buying one and possibly write some of my book that I have been neglecting. BUT I'm a grown up, with an actual grown up life (I say this as I write to people on the internet that I do not know....) who, even on my day off, has work to do because I'm too damn lazy to do it on the days I am working. So today is going to be about motivation. Ughhhhhh.... Okay, ways to motivate yourself. Drink a lot of coffee so you get a fake sense of energy. I, for one, cannot focus when I wake up and just start working, so I like to look at pictures of cats on the internet and laugh. Do that if you want, but you MUST PULL AWAY FROM THE SCREEN. Then drink more coffee then repeat for like an hour. Ugh I'm so un-motivated. Life needs an off switch.
Okay, so I know how I should motivate myself, by motivating you. I'm assuming most of you have lost someone close or maybe not so close, or maybe you had a rough childhood and that is why you like reading my blog... Right? I'm going to tell you about my rough childhood and maybe you can relate and feel not so alone.
I've lived with my father my entire life and I would have weekend visitation with my mother on and off till I was about 13. My mother was a schizophrenic, a drug addict, and probably a little bipolar, and I have to say probably the most terrifying thing is that I could end up schizophrenic.... This is normally where people say "No you won't" and I nod and smile and say "Oh yeah, but still it's a bit scary." Because it is scary, I'm kinda exposed to this disease and I have no idea what could trigger it. I think other people know that, especially my father, and that is why he has tried to keep my life pretty stable.
When I would visit my mother I was exposed to a lot, and some of it I'm not willing to go into because, frankly, I don't want to re-live it. Because my mother was sick I was normally pushed to be an adult at a young age. I was surrounded by strange men, so I would dress and act like a boy, I was rude and crude and it was my defense mechanism. I was by my mother who was drunk most of the time, and on top of it she had episodes. I remember once when I was little she tried to wash my mouth out with soap because I asked for more mac'n'cheese and then didn't eat it all. She got into a fist fight with her sister in front of me, my younger brother, and my cousin. I came back to my dad with my voice gone from screaming..... I saw a lot. And to this day my way of being okay with it was to pretend it never happened, which is pretty crappy but I'm trying to use my situation to help others now. I didn't tell anyone anything, and when they asked how it was at her house I would say "It was fine." Because I was fine wasn't I? I wasn't bruised that bad, I wasn't broken, I wasn't bleeding, I was fine. I remember one weekend I visited and she went to her boyfriends house to get a tattoo.... She spent the night; leaving me and my brother with my grandmother who was on a respirator. When she came home the next day she kissed him in front of me and I lied and told her I was crying because my fishing pole was broken....
Wanna know the worst part? I have never told anyone other than my father and one therapist that I didn't want to see my mother. I was put through all this s**t and I still cared, I still care to this day. I think that was the worst part, because you always have a connection to your mother. I loved her, she was my mother, she gave birth to me, without her I wouldn't be here. And I mean that in more than a physical way, if my mother, my father, and my honorary mom weren't the people they were I wouldn't be who I am. If my mother hadn't done what she did I wouldn't know that that world even exists. But it does, there are kids who are abused and don't say a word because that is your mother. They go through hell and don't say a word because without them they don't think their mother would survive. So they shut up and quietly live this life that sucks.
What's worse is that after you get through the rough exterior of these kids, hidden deep down, is a little kid who is scared. They're scared that one day they'll go home and their mother or father or family member won't be there; they go home and don't know what they'll find.
So maybe you're going through/been through this, and maybe it didn't effect you in a good way. So I'm going to try and motivate you to speak up. Go to someone you trust, maybe that is a teacher, a friend's parent, or a coach or anyone you trust and say "Listen, this is what's going on in my house and I need help." Because YOU deserve help, and just because you are a kid or underage does NOT mean you can/should take abuse. It will help your parent/family member too. And if you went through something like this and are having trouble coping with it go to therapy. If you decide you can't be around the person who is treating you/acting poorly you don't have to be around them. Just tell someone and get help.
Remember, you deserve to have a voice, it's your life. I don't care if you're a kid, if you are being abused you say something to someone, understand? And if you are an adult and still have that scared little kid inside of you, you get help. I still have that scared little kid in me, hell I don't know if it will ever leave, but it is getting a little bit less afraid and growing up. You have this amazing thing, want to know what it is? You have witnessed this world, you have lived it, and now you have the power to take one of the most negative situations and make it positive. You can do whatever you want with it, you can take it and start helping other kids who are going through the same thing, or you can do something great and be an inspiration for those other kids. Or you can just speak up and save yourself and that in itself is a great achievement. Speak up. It will save you. It saved me from that world.
-J
Edit: Can't believe how many people read this! Really hope it helps someone out there. You have a voice! <3 -J
No comments:
Post a Comment