The Storm Inside

"I wanna hide the truth

I wanna shelter you

But with the beast inside

There's nowhere we can hide

No matter what we breed

We still are made of greed

This is my kingdom come

This is my kingdom come"

-Imagine Dragons

Most people think anxiety and depression are phases, and for some that can be true. However, for me, I face a chemical imbalance. I struggle with demons and disorders that have become beyond my control.Some people know about what I battle daily on the inside, but very few know the severity of it. 

In the, almost, twenty-one years that I have been alive, I can't really remember a time that I haven't struggled with the thoughts in my mind. I grew up a lot quicker than most, and unfortunately, in that, I lost a my ability to know how to relax, and let things go. I learned to worry at a very young age... I was worrying about things that children that age shouldn't even be thinking about. 

I was born into what I would call a very confused, and unhappy family. Alcohol, drugs, divorce, significant others who meant more, domestic violence, threats, etc.. How do you learn to cope with such things at such a young age? Luckily for me, I had an older sister who sheltered me from the bullshit the best that she could, but in the end- it was all still there, and I knew that. 

I grew to feel unwanted, and unimportant due to all the arguments I'd overheard and all the things that were said to me. Though, those feelings got much worse once my sister wasn't there to protect me anymore. I didn't have anyone to shield me from what was being said. There I was, right in the middle... Knowing and being told things were my fault. Being ignored by one parent, and bailed on by the other. Living with mom's alcoholic boyfriend,who wanted me put up for adoption or dead. By that point, I had lost my place and had nowhere to belong. 

I found myself turning to journaling to release my emotions. I don't think anything has been more heartbreaking than rereading those journal entries from my 13 yr old self begging God to end my life because I didn't have the strength. No one should ever feel pain to that extent, especially not a child. But back then, NO ONE really knew. If they did know, they didn't understand. There came a point that I couldn't even leave my room once I got home from school because "he" didn't want me in the way...I was given my meals through my door, and when I was done I had to text my mom telling her that the plate was on step for her. 

By then, Mom had turned to bribery to try to make up for everything I was going through. Which in turn, I began to be called spoiled. Little did those who called me such know, that I would've given up EVERY single thing that I was given for a simple "I'm proud of you", "I love you", or "I'm sorry"

For years, I felt I was my mother's mistake, for that's what I had been told, and I was no stranger to being called a little "bitch". 

As far as my dad goes, I have SO many rotten, haunting memories. From punching my mom, being questioned for his arrest, watching him pull out knives and threatening people I loved, restless nights of worrying, not talking for long periods of time, to drunken phone calls. I never felt as though I was apart of his life, or at least not a part that ALWAYS mattered. 

I honestly just wanted to belong. However, that's tough to do when it feels as though, not even your parents want you around. I had become a very angry person, and I chose who I let that show to. To others, I had learned how to fake the best smile. Soon, journaling my pain turned into writing poetry about it, and with that, I had my outlet. Granted, the pain was still there, but the feelings weren't exactly bottled up anymore. I could just sit down with a notebook and pen, write my heart out, and cry. 

I'd have good days, and bad. Days where life wasn't so horrible, and days where I wished I had never been born. But one thing never changed, I HATED being home. I got away anytime I possibly could. Friends made for a distraction, especially the ones that were completely oblivious to how I felt. That's when dating came into play.

I was looking for LOVE, desperately. I took relationship EXTREMELY serious and to heart. But unfortunately, even though all I ever was to be loved, I didn't know how to be loved... or how to love. I allowed guys to do and say things to me that I would honestly hurt them for doing or saying to Marleigh. I put up with exactly what I knew, what I had always been subjected to. Strangely as much as it hurt, I saw nothing wrong with it. Even though I swore I would never put up with such things,it seemed to be that's just how love worked, or that was all I was worth. 

I allowed myself to be put down to the point that I LOATHED every single quality about myself. I was back to the place of finding myself ugly, stupid, fat, unlovable, crazy, and unworthy of life. I turned to starving myself, obsessively weighing myself, the occasional cut here and there, scalding my body with water in the shower, anything I could that would take my mind off of the mental pain. The pain of feeling as if I was never going to be good enough for anyone, not even myself. 

Between the years of a toxic home life, and toxic relationships, I finally cracked. I broke down and I spoke to my doctor. Granted, I only told my doctor that I was depressed over my Mimi's death, which in part, was very true. I was too ashamed to tell her the truth, afraid that she'd see so much wrong with me, as I did myself. She prescribed me a medicine, that I still take to this day, and suggested therapy.

Therapy? I didn't want to go... Then that would really mean there WAS something wrong with ME, it was bad enough I was on medication. It also didn't help that I had people close to my heart who treated me like a nut, and if I got the slightest bit upset, their response always was "Have you taken your meds today?". So if they treated me crazy then, what would they do with me seeing a shrink? That or I had my some family that liked to tell me that I only wanted attention.

Yes, positive attention would've been nice. But, I wanted something so much more. I wanted to be able to turn my mind off, to have balance in my thoughts, to act my age... I wanted to love myself, and I wanted to love life. Those are all things, I still want today. S

ome days my mind creeps back into the darkness. My mind constantly obsesses, and worries. It truly takes over my life, and I can't help it. After awhile, I get overwhelmed and that is what brings all the darkness back. The feeling of a failure, the pain of the past, and utter fear of the future. 

The other day, something gave me strength, that in prior years I would've called a weakness. I made a phone call to help change my life. I called to make my very first therapy appointment. I need to be a better me now, not only for me, but for my daughter. I never found myself worth helping, but I know I need to help myself to help her. 

Therapy and medication may never change the past, or take everything away, but I have hopes that it can teach me to manage, and maybe even how to relax. Life is only so long, and you only get one. I don't want to waste the one I have in the nasty cycle that I've grown up in. I want to break that cycle, and I want my daughter to never feel the way I have, especially not because of me.