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*
No comments:
Post a Comment