Throughout my childhood, as of grade 1 onwards, I developed "nervous ticks". They changed from year to year. But they were always present. It's not like life was peachy beforehand, only it got worse as of then. Can the fact that I was supposedly "my dad's favourite" be the reason why he was so hard on me? No clue..
My grade 1 teacher, had been my sister's teacher two years prior. For all that she loved my sister, who had been her favourite student, she hated me all the more. She was intent on thinking I was a troublemaker, that I didn't listen, that I made things up. I was not my sister, I was not a "model" student. No matter what I did or tried to do, every single day without fault, I'd wind up at the principal's office. I can remember my classroom a little, but the principal's office is engraved in my head.
We used to have washroom breaks, where the whole class would proceed to the washroom. Only, when we went, I often didn't feel the need to go. So, all I would do is drink some water and then head back with everyone. Usually, around 5mins after being back in class, I'd suddenly had to go to pee. The first few times the teacher let me go. But afterwards, she thought I was doing it on purpose to get out of class. I honestly wasn't. When I was young, if I had to pee, the washroom had better be right there because I couldn't hold it in. Well, when she had set her mind that I was only asking to go to the washroom to get out of class, she no longer let me go. She'd tell me to sit back in my seat. I would listen, but like I said, I couldn't retain it. So, on more than one occasion, there developed large puddles of pee under my seat. I couldn't help it, I had to go and she wouldn't let me. So, when this happened, she decided that I was out to spite her. And so, I'd be sent to the principal's office.
If we needed to ask a question, we were to go to her desk. If someone was already there, we'd have to form a line. I remember one time, I didn't understand a problem in the workbook. So, up I went, to the back of the line. I had a booger that was bothering me so I proceeded to remove it. Just as I was in mid process, the student in front of me (N.) turned around. Immediately his eyes got wide. "Miss!! A. is sticking her middle finger up at me!" When asked about this, I said "I was just picking my nose".. So much for honesty, she thought I was lying to her and off I went to the principal's office again.
This action, these words, were not a part of my vocabulary. I lived in a household where English wasn't the main language and these expressions weren't used. How was I to know the "middle" finger was such a bad word?
Many times, I would sit in the principal's office, alone, as he didn't always stay in there. I'd pass my day there, sitting with my back against the wall. Looking around, at the empty desk, or the shelf with the owl cups, or out the window through the blinds.
Our school was far enough that we could take the school bus, although my dad never permitted us to do so. A good 30 minute walk to get there, another 30 to get back. And every day my dad would come to the principal's office to pick me up. Every day, without fault on the way home I'd be told to walk in front of him. Then he'd say I was walking too fast, tell me to walk slower and pull me back by my ponytail. Then he'd say I was walking too slow, to walk faster and would kick me (in the butt) to push me further up. Rinse and repeat, all the way home. Every day, for a whole year. It's no surprise (to me) that I developed "ticks". It's not like they helped me to relieve the stress of my every day life, but in a way I guess it was one way of coping. Not like it was something I could control though. Thankfully, in elementary school, no one ever bothered me about my ticks nor did they ever tease me because of that. High school is another story altogether.
There's an expression here "avoir eu des coups de pieds dans l'cul" (having received kicks in the butt) which means someone's tall.. or what my relatives tend to say "n'a pas eu assez de coups de pieds dans l'cul" (not having received enough kicks in the butt) in reference to someone being short. Because the idea is, if you've received a lot of kicks in the butt, you'll be taller. I joke around from time to time, because I'm taller than everyone in my family, yet both my parents were considerably shorter. So, I say, I received enough and that's why I'm taller than anyone. Why should I mope about something that happened in the past, right? Might as well make "use" of it even if it's in a joking manner. Maybe that also explains my being taller than my older sister, as she never received kicks. Lucky her.
Wednesday, 28 December 2011
Memories of a child..
Most of my childhood memories, those that make me happy, are of my friends. Sure I have a few with family... but whatever started out as "fun times" often ended in "punishment". My dad never liked my mom's family. Not that they were bad people, but the fact that he didn't like the "regional accent" and that if they saw a wrong being committed they weren't the kind of people who would stay quiet about it, made him not like them. There were other reasons, he also considered all of her sisters (but 1) to be "sluts" as they had different partners (not simultaneously, but basically sex before marriage). So, I didn't see them often growing up. Scratch that. "Often" in and of itself, is too many times. To say "see them rarely", would probably be more accurate.
We lived in a different province, alone, with no other relatives. One could always say, even if you live somewhere where you had no family, they were only "a phone call away". Not so, when you don't have a phone...
I'm trying to think back. I can recall visiting my mom's family only twice, but I know we went there 3 times. Only because the first time was "documented" of sorts, by pictures. I was too young to remember. So, that means I saw my grandfather (who was also my godfather) twice before he died. The third time we visited, was for his funeral and only because my mom fought long and hard to convince my dad to go.
You might be inclined to say "why did she have to convince him", but that's because you don't know what our living conditions were. We weren't allowed out of the house if my dad wasn't home. If he was gone on one of his many long walks, and someone came knocking at the door, we were under no condition allowed to open the door to whoever was on the other side. His own mother visiting, was no exception. That was changed thanks to my mom, because one time his mother did end up coming to visit while my dad wasn't home. My mom took pity on her, how can you let an elderly woman wait outdoors on the balcony until he'd come home. So, she let her in. When my dad came home, he was furious. But she had been able to convince him, that at the very least for his own mother he shouldn't be so mean. I digress.
On the time we did visit my mom's family, the time I remember seeing my grandfather, I think I was no older than 5. It was Christmas time. We had originally shown up at my nanna's (dad's mom) home. However, she had left with the "golden years" club to Florida. Seeing as there was no one there, we headed to my grandparents' place. I remember we took the train. That there was no empty place to sit, so we all stood, but then my dad offered me his knee (hoisted up) so that I could sit down.
We reached my grandparents' place, were given a room. I got to meet my cousins. I can't remember how long we had been there, but one day my grandfather was about to leave to go to the grocery store. He asked me if I'd like to go with him, I agreed. He was the nicest grandfather you could have. A person who genuinely loved children. A very sweet man. We were both really happy, I got into the car and off we went. I don't really remember what we did while shopping, I just remember feeling happy when we arrived back home and were pulling into the driveway. Happy, until I was pulled out of the car, dragged inside and into the basement.. Where I was yelled at and beaten so badly that I had to spend the rest of the day hidden away. Fun fun. I had to spend the rest of our stay there, either by my dad's side or upstairs in the room we were staying in.
We lived in a different province, alone, with no other relatives. One could always say, even if you live somewhere where you had no family, they were only "a phone call away". Not so, when you don't have a phone...
I'm trying to think back. I can recall visiting my mom's family only twice, but I know we went there 3 times. Only because the first time was "documented" of sorts, by pictures. I was too young to remember. So, that means I saw my grandfather (who was also my godfather) twice before he died. The third time we visited, was for his funeral and only because my mom fought long and hard to convince my dad to go.
You might be inclined to say "why did she have to convince him", but that's because you don't know what our living conditions were. We weren't allowed out of the house if my dad wasn't home. If he was gone on one of his many long walks, and someone came knocking at the door, we were under no condition allowed to open the door to whoever was on the other side. His own mother visiting, was no exception. That was changed thanks to my mom, because one time his mother did end up coming to visit while my dad wasn't home. My mom took pity on her, how can you let an elderly woman wait outdoors on the balcony until he'd come home. So, she let her in. When my dad came home, he was furious. But she had been able to convince him, that at the very least for his own mother he shouldn't be so mean. I digress.
On the time we did visit my mom's family, the time I remember seeing my grandfather, I think I was no older than 5. It was Christmas time. We had originally shown up at my nanna's (dad's mom) home. However, she had left with the "golden years" club to Florida. Seeing as there was no one there, we headed to my grandparents' place. I remember we took the train. That there was no empty place to sit, so we all stood, but then my dad offered me his knee (hoisted up) so that I could sit down.
We reached my grandparents' place, were given a room. I got to meet my cousins. I can't remember how long we had been there, but one day my grandfather was about to leave to go to the grocery store. He asked me if I'd like to go with him, I agreed. He was the nicest grandfather you could have. A person who genuinely loved children. A very sweet man. We were both really happy, I got into the car and off we went. I don't really remember what we did while shopping, I just remember feeling happy when we arrived back home and were pulling into the driveway. Happy, until I was pulled out of the car, dragged inside and into the basement.. Where I was yelled at and beaten so badly that I had to spend the rest of the day hidden away. Fun fun. I had to spend the rest of our stay there, either by my dad's side or upstairs in the room we were staying in.
Tuesday, 27 December 2011
Once upon a time...
I was speaking to someone recently about my childhood, or at least certain aspects about it. The person I was talking to was adopted. I asked if they knew anything about their past, like pre-adoption? I have a few friends who were adopted as babies. One of which was a family adoption, so she knew of her biological mother but didn't really start looking into it until a few years ago. I'm a curious person by nature, so ya, I was definitely curious about that.
But at the same time, I told about what I used to do when I was young. I'd often go up to my mom and ask her if I was adopted. When she'd tell me that I was not, I'd often ask her if she was sure. Hoping that she was lying to me in hopes of not hurting my feelings or something. Around the time I found out babies came "from the tummy", I asked her if she could open her mouth, so I could go back inside. Knowing that food that goes into your mouth, winds up in the tummy. Silly, maybe even weird kid that I was.
When I was telling this person about it, it made me think. What was the reason behind my constant asking my mom if I was adopted. I didn't get into that with this person, afterall, it's not really someone I know and I'm not sure how much I want to divulge about my past. I used to be extremely open about every aspect of me, the thing is, most friends whom I've told the happenings of my past to, often tell me it was too much to take all in one shot. I guess, when I talk about things, it just spews out all at once. It's also opened me up to being hurt by others. Not that everyone has ill intentions, but those that do seem to think that "hey, this girl's been treated like shit before, let me continue". I'm straying from the topic now though...
So, I asked myself "Why is it that I was so intent on wanting to be adopted?" I know that while I was growing up, I thought what I lived through, was normal for everyone (until I found out later that it wasn't). But maybe there was a part of me that hoped it was different. Because I wanted so much to have been adopted. I think that I hoped that if I was, there was someone out there who might have treated me better. Sometimes as kids, I think even if we don't really know what's going on in a situation, we can still kind of feel the want for a better place.
I told this person that maybe I was just a weird child and maybe I was. But I also think that any child living the same life might hope and dream of a better place to be. Still, I'm weird. I admit to that. I've had a nickname that describes my weirdness since the age of 12 and I wear that nickname (and always have) with pride. Yup that's right! I was considered weird and was happy to be way before "weird became the new cool".
But at the same time, I told about what I used to do when I was young. I'd often go up to my mom and ask her if I was adopted. When she'd tell me that I was not, I'd often ask her if she was sure. Hoping that she was lying to me in hopes of not hurting my feelings or something. Around the time I found out babies came "from the tummy", I asked her if she could open her mouth, so I could go back inside. Knowing that food that goes into your mouth, winds up in the tummy. Silly, maybe even weird kid that I was.
When I was telling this person about it, it made me think. What was the reason behind my constant asking my mom if I was adopted. I didn't get into that with this person, afterall, it's not really someone I know and I'm not sure how much I want to divulge about my past. I used to be extremely open about every aspect of me, the thing is, most friends whom I've told the happenings of my past to, often tell me it was too much to take all in one shot. I guess, when I talk about things, it just spews out all at once. It's also opened me up to being hurt by others. Not that everyone has ill intentions, but those that do seem to think that "hey, this girl's been treated like shit before, let me continue". I'm straying from the topic now though...
So, I asked myself "Why is it that I was so intent on wanting to be adopted?" I know that while I was growing up, I thought what I lived through, was normal for everyone (until I found out later that it wasn't). But maybe there was a part of me that hoped it was different. Because I wanted so much to have been adopted. I think that I hoped that if I was, there was someone out there who might have treated me better. Sometimes as kids, I think even if we don't really know what's going on in a situation, we can still kind of feel the want for a better place.
I told this person that maybe I was just a weird child and maybe I was. But I also think that any child living the same life might hope and dream of a better place to be. Still, I'm weird. I admit to that. I've had a nickname that describes my weirdness since the age of 12 and I wear that nickname (and always have) with pride. Yup that's right! I was considered weird and was happy to be way before "weird became the new cool".
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
What to think of it?
Back in June I went to visit a friend. A best friend from my childhood. She's accomplished so much regardless of what life has thrown at her. At 15 she gave birth. Yet she finished high school and later on did a course to become a nurse. She now has 3 kids, and is about to turn 31 in a few days. We've always been very close, even though there was almost a decade (if not a bit more) where we lost touch. Around the time I moved yet again, she got preggers for the 1st time and when she finally found me again on fb (I too had searched for her, but she had changed her name so it was impossible for me to find). She's a true friend. The type where no matter how long you've been apart, once you get back together, it's as though you've never parted. She gives me confidence in myself, to do the things I want to do. Achieve the dreams I have.
We talked about my past. Living in the same city, what life was like for me behind closed doors. What it was like after my dad stowed us away to a different city. How she was always mad at my dad for that, for taking me away.
You know, I've always wondered what my life would've been like had I stayed there. Afterall, my dad did ask me that day if I'd want to move. I only agreed because he said we'd come back often to visit. Had I known it was but a lie, I'd have never agreed. So many things changed after we moved. The me who was never shy, retreated into a new found shell and became so shy I barely talked. The me who loved school could no longer wait to be done before the day even begun, so much so I would often get sick in the morning to the point of almost puking. The me who used to have friends was now surrounded by two-faced people who made fun of me because of my nervous ticks (that I had thanks to my dad, since grade 1) and because of my "funny way of talking". To pretend to be my friend so that I'd hang around them, but when I did would only make fun of me, belittle me and try to force me to smoke. When I refused to smoke on numerous occasions, I was told I wasn't their friend and could no longer hang around with them. They no longer talked to me, they shunned me in class and out of class. If that's where it all would've ended it would have been blissful. But no, I had to suffer harassment (from M and a few others) and being molested (from Al). You would think teachers would do something, instead nothing. I remember this one time Al had me up against the wall, rubbing himself on me. He was HUGE. Yes, I tried pushing, kicking him off and screaming at him. There walks the history teacher..... right past us, 2 feet away. Dumb fuck. For years Al got to me, until FINALLY he was held back a year and was no longer in my classes. It didn't stop him from coming to rub on me, if and when he was in the same area as me and cornered me in the hallway.
People often say that when a person is being bullied they ought to tell someone. Who do you tell at school, when teachers walk past you when it's happening? Who do you tell at home, when your only parent (my mom) who cares about you is gone all day and night. Because they're back in school in hopes to get a better job to sustain and support you and then the rest of the day, they're working. Because money has to come in, in some form. They're gone moments after you wake and come back after you've already gone to bed. Where was my dad? He had kicked us out (my sister & I). Couldn't go to him, couldn't even cross him in the street for fear he'd kill us. Who do I talk to? Nobody. My sister could only do so much, she'd let me sit with her and her friends during lunch time. So I wasn't completely alone. I found the library club and joined that one year so I finally had something to do and I finally made some friends. They were in a lower grade, so we could only hang out during breaks and after school, but it was definitely something to look forward to. I became best friends with T. In my fourth year of high school, I finally made a best friend in my own grade. She too came from another province and got teased for "sounding different". We also had similar backgrounds i.e. her dad was abusive too. We became close like sisters. Finally I could enjoy classes again. With her help, I started making more friends. Because I was capable of being myself, even acting a little crazy, people actually came around and started talking to me. Who knew it would take so long, but it finally came. Peace lasted for 2 years. Then we graduated. Went to different colleges... and there I was, alone again. And the harassment started again, from M. I was hanging out in the activity club my sister had brought me to and she had noticed I was feeling down. So I told her what had happened. Finally something got done. K became a mother hen, and took me to the student advocate. Finally something was done and I gave that idiot M a letter written by me and signed by both myself and the student advocate. So that if he continued, we'd take him to the Dean. All harassment stopped immediately from him. But the damage he had done was already done.
There are so many things that happen, that for the most part, I've always just tried to forget about them. But if I'm forgetting about them, all I'm really doing is pushing them down, not dealing with them. So are they ever really gone? If you sweep dirt under a carpet, is it ever really gone because it's out of sight? Or does it sit there, only to resurface once the carpet is touched in the least. Is that what's been happening with me?
I wonder what people mean. They keep stating they don't want someone with "baggage". Is that to define that they don't want someone who's had bad experiences or? I'm confused. Because yes, I've lived through shit, but the shit I've lived through, I don't walk around sulking "oh woe is me". I'm talking about it here, like I said, as a form of therapy. But when I get into a relationship, I don't let what I've lived through in the past affect how I am in a relationship. Maybe I should though. I'm always too trusting. I'm too nice. I let myself be walked over, belittled, abused. Always thinking of ways I could improve the situation. What am I doing wrong? What more can I do? Should I try harder? I'm not comfortable, but I want to please him. What else can I do? This last one "R".. *scoffs* he told me he thought I was never doing enough *jaw drops open* I work nights. I would cut my sleep so that he could eat. He couldn't cook.. he'd come over on days he knew I was working and I'd have to slave to make him food, have sex with him, and then rush to get to work. It'd have been nice if he would've helped out with making the food.. but no, it would aggravate me SO much that as soon as I'd go to the kitchen to start preparing food, he'd leave, plop on the sofa, flick on the TV and stare into oblivion. He'd blare the TV (I have neighbours!!), and would glare at me when I'd ask him to turn it down and then bark out if the food was ready yet because he was hungry. That one.... *exhales* he once told me he only loved the nice me, but hated the me that would get mad. Then he went on to tell me that he only liked my cute voice but was repulsed by my real voice... What did this stupid girl do? I apologized!!! SERIOUSLY I COULD HIT MYSELF Dx Sooooooo many red flags. So many!!! That I just overlooked because I was afraid of being alone. I needed that companionship.. not that there was much of it.
I met a guy last year in September on the same site I met R. I met him way before I met R, "lil D" as I call him, we got along spot on ever since our 1st email. Around December we decided we ought to hang out but things kept falling through. Finally in May, the same month R broke up with me, I met lil D in person. We went to a Rammstein concert together. We're like 2 peas in a pod. With him, the more I hang around him, I see the real me coming out. He's a true friend. Not the type that will tell you something just because you want to hear it. He tells it to you how it is, the harsh truth if you will. Because it's what you have to hear. Over the past few months, I've been seeing the real me come out more. The real me was always there, just more often than not hidden away. A friend of my sister's (and later on my friend) named me "Creature" since the age of 12, when she met me. It was the only name she found described me, but it was my non-shy self. When she'd introduce me as Creature to others, it's as though that barrier I had when I was my outer shell-self (that shy & withdrawn me) would melt away. I could be the real me, just like I was in my childhood days. With lil D, I see me coming out more. But it's not just with him. The real me is coming out with new people I'm meeting. I finally feel like I'm breaking free. It's also in the same way as when I meet people from my hometown. My true me comes out. There's not a ounce of shyness in me. There's a type of comfort within me that I can't explain. It's weird but not weird at the same time.
I don't know what life would've been like had I stayed in my hometown. But I'm happy to know, that even if it took almost 20yrs, my true self is finally coming out again. You know, I've been through a lot in my life, but overall, I'm a pretty happy person. *nods*
We talked about my past. Living in the same city, what life was like for me behind closed doors. What it was like after my dad stowed us away to a different city. How she was always mad at my dad for that, for taking me away.
You know, I've always wondered what my life would've been like had I stayed there. Afterall, my dad did ask me that day if I'd want to move. I only agreed because he said we'd come back often to visit. Had I known it was but a lie, I'd have never agreed. So many things changed after we moved. The me who was never shy, retreated into a new found shell and became so shy I barely talked. The me who loved school could no longer wait to be done before the day even begun, so much so I would often get sick in the morning to the point of almost puking. The me who used to have friends was now surrounded by two-faced people who made fun of me because of my nervous ticks (that I had thanks to my dad, since grade 1) and because of my "funny way of talking". To pretend to be my friend so that I'd hang around them, but when I did would only make fun of me, belittle me and try to force me to smoke. When I refused to smoke on numerous occasions, I was told I wasn't their friend and could no longer hang around with them. They no longer talked to me, they shunned me in class and out of class. If that's where it all would've ended it would have been blissful. But no, I had to suffer harassment (from M and a few others) and being molested (from Al). You would think teachers would do something, instead nothing. I remember this one time Al had me up against the wall, rubbing himself on me. He was HUGE. Yes, I tried pushing, kicking him off and screaming at him. There walks the history teacher..... right past us, 2 feet away. Dumb fuck. For years Al got to me, until FINALLY he was held back a year and was no longer in my classes. It didn't stop him from coming to rub on me, if and when he was in the same area as me and cornered me in the hallway.
People often say that when a person is being bullied they ought to tell someone. Who do you tell at school, when teachers walk past you when it's happening? Who do you tell at home, when your only parent (my mom) who cares about you is gone all day and night. Because they're back in school in hopes to get a better job to sustain and support you and then the rest of the day, they're working. Because money has to come in, in some form. They're gone moments after you wake and come back after you've already gone to bed. Where was my dad? He had kicked us out (my sister & I). Couldn't go to him, couldn't even cross him in the street for fear he'd kill us. Who do I talk to? Nobody. My sister could only do so much, she'd let me sit with her and her friends during lunch time. So I wasn't completely alone. I found the library club and joined that one year so I finally had something to do and I finally made some friends. They were in a lower grade, so we could only hang out during breaks and after school, but it was definitely something to look forward to. I became best friends with T. In my fourth year of high school, I finally made a best friend in my own grade. She too came from another province and got teased for "sounding different". We also had similar backgrounds i.e. her dad was abusive too. We became close like sisters. Finally I could enjoy classes again. With her help, I started making more friends. Because I was capable of being myself, even acting a little crazy, people actually came around and started talking to me. Who knew it would take so long, but it finally came. Peace lasted for 2 years. Then we graduated. Went to different colleges... and there I was, alone again. And the harassment started again, from M. I was hanging out in the activity club my sister had brought me to and she had noticed I was feeling down. So I told her what had happened. Finally something got done. K became a mother hen, and took me to the student advocate. Finally something was done and I gave that idiot M a letter written by me and signed by both myself and the student advocate. So that if he continued, we'd take him to the Dean. All harassment stopped immediately from him. But the damage he had done was already done.
There are so many things that happen, that for the most part, I've always just tried to forget about them. But if I'm forgetting about them, all I'm really doing is pushing them down, not dealing with them. So are they ever really gone? If you sweep dirt under a carpet, is it ever really gone because it's out of sight? Or does it sit there, only to resurface once the carpet is touched in the least. Is that what's been happening with me?
I wonder what people mean. They keep stating they don't want someone with "baggage". Is that to define that they don't want someone who's had bad experiences or? I'm confused. Because yes, I've lived through shit, but the shit I've lived through, I don't walk around sulking "oh woe is me". I'm talking about it here, like I said, as a form of therapy. But when I get into a relationship, I don't let what I've lived through in the past affect how I am in a relationship. Maybe I should though. I'm always too trusting. I'm too nice. I let myself be walked over, belittled, abused. Always thinking of ways I could improve the situation. What am I doing wrong? What more can I do? Should I try harder? I'm not comfortable, but I want to please him. What else can I do? This last one "R".. *scoffs* he told me he thought I was never doing enough *jaw drops open* I work nights. I would cut my sleep so that he could eat. He couldn't cook.. he'd come over on days he knew I was working and I'd have to slave to make him food, have sex with him, and then rush to get to work. It'd have been nice if he would've helped out with making the food.. but no, it would aggravate me SO much that as soon as I'd go to the kitchen to start preparing food, he'd leave, plop on the sofa, flick on the TV and stare into oblivion. He'd blare the TV (I have neighbours!!), and would glare at me when I'd ask him to turn it down and then bark out if the food was ready yet because he was hungry. That one.... *exhales* he once told me he only loved the nice me, but hated the me that would get mad. Then he went on to tell me that he only liked my cute voice but was repulsed by my real voice... What did this stupid girl do? I apologized!!! SERIOUSLY I COULD HIT MYSELF Dx Sooooooo many red flags. So many!!! That I just overlooked because I was afraid of being alone. I needed that companionship.. not that there was much of it.
I met a guy last year in September on the same site I met R. I met him way before I met R, "lil D" as I call him, we got along spot on ever since our 1st email. Around December we decided we ought to hang out but things kept falling through. Finally in May, the same month R broke up with me, I met lil D in person. We went to a Rammstein concert together. We're like 2 peas in a pod. With him, the more I hang around him, I see the real me coming out. He's a true friend. Not the type that will tell you something just because you want to hear it. He tells it to you how it is, the harsh truth if you will. Because it's what you have to hear. Over the past few months, I've been seeing the real me come out more. The real me was always there, just more often than not hidden away. A friend of my sister's (and later on my friend) named me "Creature" since the age of 12, when she met me. It was the only name she found described me, but it was my non-shy self. When she'd introduce me as Creature to others, it's as though that barrier I had when I was my outer shell-self (that shy & withdrawn me) would melt away. I could be the real me, just like I was in my childhood days. With lil D, I see me coming out more. But it's not just with him. The real me is coming out with new people I'm meeting. I finally feel like I'm breaking free. It's also in the same way as when I meet people from my hometown. My true me comes out. There's not a ounce of shyness in me. There's a type of comfort within me that I can't explain. It's weird but not weird at the same time.
I don't know what life would've been like had I stayed in my hometown. But I'm happy to know, that even if it took almost 20yrs, my true self is finally coming out again. You know, I've been through a lot in my life, but overall, I'm a pretty happy person. *nods*
Monday, 12 December 2011
Weirdness...
I'm not one to remember my dreams. But somehow, recently, this past week.. I've been having the weirdest yet most vivid dreams and I remember them when I wake up. I should have written them down as it happened, as my brain being as it is, I'm starting to forget some of them. I joke that I suffer from elephant syndrome, wherein my brain is the size of a peanut and whenever I have an overload of info, it just gets pushed out. So, my memory doesn't last long. I joke, but I'm also a tad worried as it seems to be happening more and more often lately. On to the dreams. The first of my extremely vivid ones started last Saturday night after playing Skyrim. The game itself is so vivid and that night I dreamt I was in the game. So real, so lifelike. But I knew I was within the game.
The next vivid dream I had was a few days later (I haven't re-played Skyrim since that Saturday). Again, everything was so life-like. Very real.. But this time, in my dream I was going out with someone (I think) and someone else was talking about him and I was scared because this person that I was supposedly with, looked A LOT like G (my real 1st bf). So I felt almost traumatized that I'd go out with him again. But then, there he was standing next to me and he leaned over to introduce himself to someone. I didn't catch his name, but he said "Hi, I'm from Barbados" and I had instant relief. Pheeewf he's not Jamaican. It's NOT really him.. just someone who looks (waay too much for comfort) just like him. I woke up not long after that. How weird is it tho, that the very next day, who calls my work but G himself for assistance. That's just too freaky in my book. Was the dream a preparation for the call that was to come? It totally freaked me out.
The next day I had yet another dream, I was going out with some white guy... at this moment, I can't remember much of it anymore (it's been over 4 days) but I remember I was happy, there were no unpleasantries within it. I just felt at peace. I don't know what's bringing on all these dreams of me being with guys. It's not like I've gotten around, and they're also not perverted dreams. It's just that in these dreams, I'm with different guys and just happy. Weird right? Most relationships I've had were the opposite.
You know, lately I've been thinking a lot. Me thinking, this is never good. But I've been remembering things that happened from before my last past relationship. How I thought this new guy "R" looked almost creepily like my first bf. The Chinese version, as my first way Jamaican. Creepily so. But I overlooked that at the time. How I wasn't interested in him, not more than getting to know him as a friend. Yet he asked me out and I didn't know how to turn him down without being rude, so I agreed to it. I didn't think anything would come of it. But it did... After the movie, he wanted to go to the bookstore (for the record, the next person who suggests this to me, I'll say "bye" right then and there). G took me to the bookstore too... eerily the exact same one... *shudders* how did I not see that at the time. I realized it afterwards, but I have a certain way of pushing away my alarms when they're ringing damn loud. How not surprising that he'd try to kiss me there. Creepy follows.. he took me to the exact same shopping mall afterwards. It's NOT the closest one to that bookstore.. I remember, after that evening, when I went home and was talking to my friend C, I told her how badly I felt. Yes I allowed him to kiss me, but then I kissed him back. And there I was beating myself up about it. I decided I'd break it off before it went too far... but the next day I went to meet him, on the spur of the moment I thought to myself "no, I think I might really like him". There commenced 5months of agonizing hell. With my body rebelling. Basically, I'd get upset over everything. I don't become that bad. The only time I can ever recall from my past 4 relationships that I was ever that bad, was during the 1st one with G and this last one with R. Can anyone understand why I'm a bit scared to venture into another relationship? I become too trusting of others. I'm like that by default. But when I myself sees red flags, I dismiss them. I'm not scared of being in a relationship, I'm scared of myself and how I treat myself when I'm in one. Welcome to my Abyss.
I spent a lot of time thinking after my final breakup. How I didn't want to get into another relationship until I had things worked out. The thing about "working things out" is that, you can only do so much on your own. But you can't apply it in a relationship, because how do you know what you'll be like when you're in one again. >_> But I know that whatever relationship I do get into next, I'm taking it really slowly. People seem to like going fast, but I need to be able to get to know that person as a friend and really get to know them (regardless of how cute I may think they are) before I get intimate with anyone. The thing with me is, once I get intimate, I attach myself emotionally.. and it's those emotions that keep me from thinking with a clear head. So, ya. Slowly, I think for my benefit, that ought to mean no kissing either.
I had another one today. It's weird. I woke up originally at 7am and though my eyes felt tired still, I felt fine. But then I fell back asleep.. and had yet another dream. Of yet another random guy I was supposedly with. I don't quite remember this one as much, but upon waking up at 10:30am my head is killing me. Isn't it supposed to be that when you can remember your dreams it's that you've slept deeply? So, why is my head killing me right now? I'm starting to wish I didn't remember my dreams.. But at the same time, I think they're subtly talking to me. Weird, right? I kind of feel, that they're showing me that it doesn't matter who I'm with.. I can still be happy. That's good, right?
The next vivid dream I had was a few days later (I haven't re-played Skyrim since that Saturday). Again, everything was so life-like. Very real.. But this time, in my dream I was going out with someone (I think) and someone else was talking about him and I was scared because this person that I was supposedly with, looked A LOT like G (my real 1st bf). So I felt almost traumatized that I'd go out with him again. But then, there he was standing next to me and he leaned over to introduce himself to someone. I didn't catch his name, but he said "Hi, I'm from Barbados" and I had instant relief. Pheeewf he's not Jamaican. It's NOT really him.. just someone who looks (waay too much for comfort) just like him. I woke up not long after that. How weird is it tho, that the very next day, who calls my work but G himself for assistance. That's just too freaky in my book. Was the dream a preparation for the call that was to come? It totally freaked me out.
The next day I had yet another dream, I was going out with some white guy... at this moment, I can't remember much of it anymore (it's been over 4 days) but I remember I was happy, there were no unpleasantries within it. I just felt at peace. I don't know what's bringing on all these dreams of me being with guys. It's not like I've gotten around, and they're also not perverted dreams. It's just that in these dreams, I'm with different guys and just happy. Weird right? Most relationships I've had were the opposite.
You know, lately I've been thinking a lot. Me thinking, this is never good. But I've been remembering things that happened from before my last past relationship. How I thought this new guy "R" looked almost creepily like my first bf. The Chinese version, as my first way Jamaican. Creepily so. But I overlooked that at the time. How I wasn't interested in him, not more than getting to know him as a friend. Yet he asked me out and I didn't know how to turn him down without being rude, so I agreed to it. I didn't think anything would come of it. But it did... After the movie, he wanted to go to the bookstore (for the record, the next person who suggests this to me, I'll say "bye" right then and there). G took me to the bookstore too... eerily the exact same one... *shudders* how did I not see that at the time. I realized it afterwards, but I have a certain way of pushing away my alarms when they're ringing damn loud. How not surprising that he'd try to kiss me there. Creepy follows.. he took me to the exact same shopping mall afterwards. It's NOT the closest one to that bookstore.. I remember, after that evening, when I went home and was talking to my friend C, I told her how badly I felt. Yes I allowed him to kiss me, but then I kissed him back. And there I was beating myself up about it. I decided I'd break it off before it went too far... but the next day I went to meet him, on the spur of the moment I thought to myself "no, I think I might really like him". There commenced 5months of agonizing hell. With my body rebelling. Basically, I'd get upset over everything. I don't become that bad. The only time I can ever recall from my past 4 relationships that I was ever that bad, was during the 1st one with G and this last one with R. Can anyone understand why I'm a bit scared to venture into another relationship? I become too trusting of others. I'm like that by default. But when I myself sees red flags, I dismiss them. I'm not scared of being in a relationship, I'm scared of myself and how I treat myself when I'm in one. Welcome to my Abyss.
I spent a lot of time thinking after my final breakup. How I didn't want to get into another relationship until I had things worked out. The thing about "working things out" is that, you can only do so much on your own. But you can't apply it in a relationship, because how do you know what you'll be like when you're in one again. >_> But I know that whatever relationship I do get into next, I'm taking it really slowly. People seem to like going fast, but I need to be able to get to know that person as a friend and really get to know them (regardless of how cute I may think they are) before I get intimate with anyone. The thing with me is, once I get intimate, I attach myself emotionally.. and it's those emotions that keep me from thinking with a clear head. So, ya. Slowly, I think for my benefit, that ought to mean no kissing either.
I had another one today. It's weird. I woke up originally at 7am and though my eyes felt tired still, I felt fine. But then I fell back asleep.. and had yet another dream. Of yet another random guy I was supposedly with. I don't quite remember this one as much, but upon waking up at 10:30am my head is killing me. Isn't it supposed to be that when you can remember your dreams it's that you've slept deeply? So, why is my head killing me right now? I'm starting to wish I didn't remember my dreams.. But at the same time, I think they're subtly talking to me. Weird, right? I kind of feel, that they're showing me that it doesn't matter who I'm with.. I can still be happy. That's good, right?
Saturday, 10 December 2011
Where it all began..
I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. A few months back, while talking to an acquaintance, I was asked where I saw myself when I'd be 40 or 50. My answer? "Happy" I don't know what my circumstances will be, nor where I'll be, but as long as I'm happy, that's what's important to me. It seemed, to him, that wasn't enough. Our conversation continued, wherein he continued to put my thinking into question.
Because of our conversation that day, I found myself going into an almost depression. I didn't know what I wanted anymore. Things I thought I knew from long ago, I was no longer sure about. It felt like I was stuck within a mental whirlwind, not knowing where to find answers, filled with uncertainty about what it was that I truly wanted out of life. In all the lows I've ever experienced in my life, this was the first time I found myself contemplating death.
It didn't last long (the death contemplation), just that one moment where I lay there in the tub, thinking to myself how easy it would be to just submerge myself and disappear. Maybe then the whirlwind would stop and I'd feel at peace again, albeit dead. As if on cue, my kitten meowed at me from behind the door. Which led me to think, who would take care of her? I'm not going to leave my baby girl alone in this world. It was time to get out of the tub and figure things out for myself because no one is going to give me answers but me.
What I need to know is, why do I react in certain ways?
When I was a teenager, I never wanted to get married. I remember talking about it with my best friend at the time. She too never wanted to get married. For similar reasons. How there's that saying that if you come from an abusive family, you'll end up marrying someone like your dad. We both had abusive fathers, neither one of us wanted to marry because of that. But I was a bit different. While she didn't even want to have boyfriends, I did. I just didn't want to get married. Maybe I thought a boyfriend would be different? Who knows.
Well, that first boyfriend, changed things for me. Before I knew it I was engaged. Next thing I knew I was being raped. Couldn't speak about it to anyone, I experienced my first low. Not knowing what was happening to me, feeling as if I was only hitting walls yet never going anywhere. Thankfully, in the end, we didn't get married. I spent the next 3yrs completely repulsed by the ideas being with a guy.
Until I met J, and was able to have my eyes opened up. Guys weren't all the same. There was hope still. I became close friends with J, we talked lots. He was doing an intern here during the summer and frequented my church. When he returned home, we kept in touch. We were really close (yup, I had a crush on him.. but was too shy to say anything). We were so close, that I was the first he told about a new girl he met. They were just friends at first, but I was also the first he told when he decided to ask her out. (Totally crushed me. But I made a decision that day. Did I want to continue being his friend and give up on my crush or continue my crush but risk breaking our friendship? I chose the 1st option. I was happy for him. It's a good thing I put the flame of my crush out, because I was also one of the first to be told of his engagement to her. They now have 2 kids, both adorably cute!)
J was my eye-opener. Not all guys are the same. Some are extremely nice. Also here began my attraction to nerdy/geeky guys.
Next I met N. (Also nerdy/geeky... and a hermit, the hermit part I'd never do again)
We dated for a year. He was really nice, extremely respectful. He knew of my past relationship. He new of the horrible things I lived through. He didn't pity me, but he did have compassion and respect. He never forced me. While he was very sweet, there was that fault. The one where he was incapable of saying "no". I never forced him to do anything, I'm not that kind of person. But like me, he's one who's willing to overlook himself to make others happy. Until you can no longer overlook yourself and need to do something for you. We broke up, but remained friends. One of the reasons we broke up was because we also weren't heading in the same direction. He wanted to concentrate on other things. While I was off in lala land... with ideas of marriage and the like.
It's like, I get hounded with thoughts of insecurity when I get into a relationship.
I feel like no relationship will last unless I get married. Because if someone's willing to take that step and dish out the money to get married, then they really love you and they'll make the effort to keep the relationship intact. Which I know is stupid. My reasoning doesn't feel right. But that's what I thought. And it's only since September that I've started to actually try and figure things out for myself.
How did I go from never wanting to get married to feeling like I need to get married? I think to myself, that I should never get married. Not that I should never be with someone again but the act of marriage isn't a necessity. I know many people who lived together for long periods of time in common-law. I also know many people who have been in failed marriages. In the "I should never get married" I tell myself, maybe it will help me to overcome the fear that I'll forever be alone because I'll learn to "deal with it". But what am I dealing with? My insecurities? Where do they come from? Is it from a bad relationship that was meant to continue in marriage but didn't? Is it from fear that I'll never really be loved? Does it root deeper than that? Is it from the lack of love as a child? Does it stem from the relationship I had with my dad, or lack thereof?
Then there's the question, "Do I want to have kids?" I used to say "yes", it was like I was programmed into saying it. I never questioned it, I felt obliged to have some as my mom would constantly ask me (which each consecutive bf), when I was going to give her grandkids. She even went to the point of telling me once, that if I didn't hurry and give her grandkids, that she'd give their inheritance away to someone else's kids. I've spoke to her since, because I needed to collect my thoughts and unless I asked her, I didn't dare even consider not ever having any. She says she said it as a joke (she barely even remembered asking) and all the other times, she said it was more because of the idea that I had said I was to have kids (back when I was engaged) that she assumed from then on that my mind hadn't changed. So she was just checking up on them.... (potential grandkids). But she's since told me, that it doesn't matter if I have any or not. Because all she wants for me is my happiness. That took a load off of my chest. I don't know if I want kids. I love babies. I get shy around older kids. It's hard for me to tell people I'm not sure if I want any. But I'm not. I know that right now, I'm not ready. And I also don't want to have any past a certain age but that right now, I want to travel more than anything. So having kids wouldn't be ideal right now anyways. (Regardless of not having that separate entity to father the children if they were to occur).
I think what I want in that respect, is that I'm open to having kids but it's no longer a necessity. For that matter, I don't want to go out with just anyone. I want to find a friend. Someone who will be not only my lover but my best friend. I've noticed, from observing others, that the happiest couples are those who were close friends/best friends before getting married. That's what I want. Finding that feels hard. Everyone seems to have this idea of the ideal person they're looking for. No matter if I fall under all of the "requirements", I'm a bit overweight so... I'm not in their sight. Or they think of me as a really great friend and find me super sweet but they're not interested. I often become the close friend who's not on anyone's radar. I guess eventually the right one will come along. *shrugs* I know it's not necessarily because of my weight. There are guys attracted to bigger girls, maybe it's the insecurities in me that they see.
Even before that... I need to find out why I crumble whenever I get into a relationship. Look at me rambling away... *siiiiiigh* I don't even remember what I was trying to say anymore...
Abyss
Because of our conversation that day, I found myself going into an almost depression. I didn't know what I wanted anymore. Things I thought I knew from long ago, I was no longer sure about. It felt like I was stuck within a mental whirlwind, not knowing where to find answers, filled with uncertainty about what it was that I truly wanted out of life. In all the lows I've ever experienced in my life, this was the first time I found myself contemplating death.
It didn't last long (the death contemplation), just that one moment where I lay there in the tub, thinking to myself how easy it would be to just submerge myself and disappear. Maybe then the whirlwind would stop and I'd feel at peace again, albeit dead. As if on cue, my kitten meowed at me from behind the door. Which led me to think, who would take care of her? I'm not going to leave my baby girl alone in this world. It was time to get out of the tub and figure things out for myself because no one is going to give me answers but me.
What I need to know is, why do I react in certain ways?
When I was a teenager, I never wanted to get married. I remember talking about it with my best friend at the time. She too never wanted to get married. For similar reasons. How there's that saying that if you come from an abusive family, you'll end up marrying someone like your dad. We both had abusive fathers, neither one of us wanted to marry because of that. But I was a bit different. While she didn't even want to have boyfriends, I did. I just didn't want to get married. Maybe I thought a boyfriend would be different? Who knows.
Well, that first boyfriend, changed things for me. Before I knew it I was engaged. Next thing I knew I was being raped. Couldn't speak about it to anyone, I experienced my first low. Not knowing what was happening to me, feeling as if I was only hitting walls yet never going anywhere. Thankfully, in the end, we didn't get married. I spent the next 3yrs completely repulsed by the ideas being with a guy.
Until I met J, and was able to have my eyes opened up. Guys weren't all the same. There was hope still. I became close friends with J, we talked lots. He was doing an intern here during the summer and frequented my church. When he returned home, we kept in touch. We were really close (yup, I had a crush on him.. but was too shy to say anything). We were so close, that I was the first he told about a new girl he met. They were just friends at first, but I was also the first he told when he decided to ask her out. (Totally crushed me. But I made a decision that day. Did I want to continue being his friend and give up on my crush or continue my crush but risk breaking our friendship? I chose the 1st option. I was happy for him. It's a good thing I put the flame of my crush out, because I was also one of the first to be told of his engagement to her. They now have 2 kids, both adorably cute!)
J was my eye-opener. Not all guys are the same. Some are extremely nice. Also here began my attraction to nerdy/geeky guys.
Next I met N. (Also nerdy/geeky... and a hermit, the hermit part I'd never do again)
We dated for a year. He was really nice, extremely respectful. He knew of my past relationship. He new of the horrible things I lived through. He didn't pity me, but he did have compassion and respect. He never forced me. While he was very sweet, there was that fault. The one where he was incapable of saying "no". I never forced him to do anything, I'm not that kind of person. But like me, he's one who's willing to overlook himself to make others happy. Until you can no longer overlook yourself and need to do something for you. We broke up, but remained friends. One of the reasons we broke up was because we also weren't heading in the same direction. He wanted to concentrate on other things. While I was off in lala land... with ideas of marriage and the like.
It's like, I get hounded with thoughts of insecurity when I get into a relationship.
I feel like no relationship will last unless I get married. Because if someone's willing to take that step and dish out the money to get married, then they really love you and they'll make the effort to keep the relationship intact. Which I know is stupid. My reasoning doesn't feel right. But that's what I thought. And it's only since September that I've started to actually try and figure things out for myself.
How did I go from never wanting to get married to feeling like I need to get married? I think to myself, that I should never get married. Not that I should never be with someone again but the act of marriage isn't a necessity. I know many people who lived together for long periods of time in common-law. I also know many people who have been in failed marriages. In the "I should never get married" I tell myself, maybe it will help me to overcome the fear that I'll forever be alone because I'll learn to "deal with it". But what am I dealing with? My insecurities? Where do they come from? Is it from a bad relationship that was meant to continue in marriage but didn't? Is it from fear that I'll never really be loved? Does it root deeper than that? Is it from the lack of love as a child? Does it stem from the relationship I had with my dad, or lack thereof?
Then there's the question, "Do I want to have kids?" I used to say "yes", it was like I was programmed into saying it. I never questioned it, I felt obliged to have some as my mom would constantly ask me (which each consecutive bf), when I was going to give her grandkids. She even went to the point of telling me once, that if I didn't hurry and give her grandkids, that she'd give their inheritance away to someone else's kids. I've spoke to her since, because I needed to collect my thoughts and unless I asked her, I didn't dare even consider not ever having any. She says she said it as a joke (she barely even remembered asking) and all the other times, she said it was more because of the idea that I had said I was to have kids (back when I was engaged) that she assumed from then on that my mind hadn't changed. So she was just checking up on them.... (potential grandkids). But she's since told me, that it doesn't matter if I have any or not. Because all she wants for me is my happiness. That took a load off of my chest. I don't know if I want kids. I love babies. I get shy around older kids. It's hard for me to tell people I'm not sure if I want any. But I'm not. I know that right now, I'm not ready. And I also don't want to have any past a certain age but that right now, I want to travel more than anything. So having kids wouldn't be ideal right now anyways. (Regardless of not having that separate entity to father the children if they were to occur).
I think what I want in that respect, is that I'm open to having kids but it's no longer a necessity. For that matter, I don't want to go out with just anyone. I want to find a friend. Someone who will be not only my lover but my best friend. I've noticed, from observing others, that the happiest couples are those who were close friends/best friends before getting married. That's what I want. Finding that feels hard. Everyone seems to have this idea of the ideal person they're looking for. No matter if I fall under all of the "requirements", I'm a bit overweight so... I'm not in their sight. Or they think of me as a really great friend and find me super sweet but they're not interested. I often become the close friend who's not on anyone's radar. I guess eventually the right one will come along. *shrugs* I know it's not necessarily because of my weight. There are guys attracted to bigger girls, maybe it's the insecurities in me that they see.
Even before that... I need to find out why I crumble whenever I get into a relationship. Look at me rambling away... *siiiiiigh* I don't even remember what I was trying to say anymore...
Abyss
Friday, 9 December 2011
The First Step...
This blog will be a collection of thoughts, a form of therapy, if you will. A collection of memories, ranging throughout my life. I'm writing it in hopes that looking back on it, I'll be able to understand why I become a certain way at times. If there's something that needs dealing with or fixing, if only to better myself as well as my relationships with others.
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