Finding Peace in the Dark

It has taken me many years to muster up the courage to finally share this. Quite a few years have passed now and I'm ready to open up about a story of my past that has, and still is, always difficult and emotional for me to talk about. Still to this day I tear up talking about it.

This is a story I kept quiet about for over 13 years. It lasted for 10 years. Even the few in my life who know of it, don't know the horrid details that come with it. It happened dozens of times. Things would be blissful, then he'd find some reason to blow up on me. I was always treading on thin ice.

It started off unexpectedly. There would be days I had to "write punishments." This wasn't your average "write what you did wrong 20 times'' kind of punishment. I spent countless sleepless nights writing OVER 1,000s of times. One night I was so tired, I began to doze off. Little did I know I'd be woken up with a smack to the face and a bloody mouth. This is how it started, until it got worse.

Once it began getting worse, there was no turning back. This is when my anxiety began. Still to this day any time I hear voices getting louder than normal, my body will begin to tremble and my chest will feel like it's closing up. There were days I didn't want to come home from school. I was terrified to go home. There were honestly days I didn't want to be alive. I contemplated taking my own life countless times. I'd run away after arguments and beatings. Then I'd wonder if I should just go back home or go to the nearest bridge. (I can't swim so I thought it'd be the easiest way to go.)

I once stood up for my mother because I couldn't just sit around watching her get hurt too. What did I get out of that you might be wondering!? He kicked me straight in my chest and I stumbled and fell into the next room hitting my back onto a radiator. My back was in so much pain and it took me a minute to catch my breath. There was another time I watched my mother faint to the ground after being choked. And there was another time that he held me down to punch and kick me until I had control of my own arms and legs to fight back. Yes, I eventually worked up the courage to fight back. This wasn't about respecting your elders anymore. He wasn't my father. He wasn't a friend. Nor a step father. He was nothing. Pure evil. Yet he thought it was okay to beat me. He thought it was okay to call me a "dyke," a "whore," or every other name you could think of. I wasn't any of these things. I was just a girl, lost and in pain.

"You did not have the ability to stop what was done to you, but you have the power to choose how you overcome it."

What some people don't realize is that "trauma permanently changes us." This is the big, scary truth. This is not a negative thing. Healing from trauma can also mean finding new strength and joy. For me, it took me a while to finally come to terms with my past. It's hard to let go. We all have the ability to do it, yet holding onto the pain becomes comfortable. It was something I was trapped in for many years and I didn't know anything outside from that, until we finally got away.

People always tell me to "just get over it" or "you're overthinking it." As if my pain meant nothing. As if I was faking it. For so many years, I was upset with myself. I blamed myself. Angry at the world. I resented this man for what he did. I sat in pain everyday. Wondering why I had gone through something like this. Why that was my reality for so long.

Some days I still have nightmares where I see his face. Sometimes they'll be a flashback of what I've been through. Although this is what I've dealt with, I am stronger than I know. I've made it this far and I am beginning to learn how to let go. I have people around me now who love me and help me through rough days. They're all patient with me and I couldn't be more thankful to be surrounded by love rather than hate.

Emotional and Mental abuse is N E V E R okay. Whether it be from family, friends, or whoever. The many sleepless nights, the bruises that have once laid upon my skin, the blood that dripped from my lips, the tears I shed from the pain I was in ..... It was never okay. It was never my fault. It was a terrible situation to have grown up in, but it was something that has made me the person who I am today. I might not trust so quickly, I might not open up to new people as fast, and I might be quite of an emotional mess .. but this is M E.

This was really hard to talk about, with a few missing details because it would take a book to share my pain after all those years. I did not decide to share this for sympathy nor attention, but to hopefully be a voice for others. I can only hope my story comforts others who have been through the same to see that they aren't alone. Know that you have someone on your side and willing to be there. You're stronger than you think.