just a list of things i'd do if i could fly

all i’ve ever wanted to do was tell my story, to inspire people, to show how i was lifted out of the dark and into the light, to show that if it happened for me, it can happen for you. but i let fear hold me back, fear of how people would look at me different, fear that people will think i’m making it up or wanting them to feel sorry for me, and well, fear of not even knowing where to start talking. then i realized, i shouldn’t be afraid of my story. you shouldn’t be afraid of your story. i shouldn’t hide what happened to me and the things i’ve been though because it’s not about the bad i went though, it’s about the beauty that god creates from those ashes. 

so here it is. it’s long. i decided if i’m going to tell it i’m not going to cut a whole lot out. but, first of all if you’re reading this, i love you. thank you. (p.s. i’m sure i have spelling and grammar mistakes. i’m sorry for that, also i dislike capital letters.) 

well, i guess everything started in 2nd grade when my parents decided to divorce. it honestly wasn’t a shock to me. the shock was the fact that my mom cheated on my dad and got pregnant. how is a 7 year old supposed to take that? i wasn’t close with my parents so then started the feeling of me being completely alone. from there it all went downhill. within a year my mom moved out, i had a new baby brother, and a step dad. if that wasn’t enough to deal with at my dad’s house his new girlfriend moved in faster than i could comprehend and she brought two of her four boys with her. both older than me, one by a year and the other by four. at eight years old my life had been completely and utterly flipped upside down, and i had no one to talk to. 

soon after my “step-family” moved in i started noticing strange behavior from my oldest step brother. he’d come into my room late at night and want to sleep in my bed, or just really weird things that i knew weren’t normal, but i didn’t know how to deal with it. quickly, things escalated to becoming something that would haunt me for years and years. he started molesting me at the age of 9. and i wish i could say it stopped there, but it didn’t.

it would be simple to say “why didn’t you just go live with your mom?” well the problem with that is, my mom suffers from bipolar disorder, along with border-line personality disorder. living with a bipolar person is truly one of the most difficult things in the world. every single thing you do is wrong. even if you do exactly as they say, it’s still wrong. they say unspeakable things then turn around and say they love you. they have violent rages and scream over nothing. then after their rages they don’t even remember what they said. they get mad over things normal people don’t get mad about. that’s my mother. it’s a horrible complex to have growing up.

walking into my 7th grade year i had learned to deal with my life. i was okay with the fact that i was completely and utterly alone. i could count the number of friends i had on one hand. i was never completely happy with myself, i always felt like a bad person, i always felt ugly and fat. 7th grade i couldn’t even look in a mirror without hating myself. eventually, i just avoided mirrors and found things to distract me from the horrible things around me. you can’t avoid life forever though. it will catch up with you eventually and that summer, that’s exactly what happened.

i was determined to have the best summer of my life. i had to. even if i was alone. all i wanted was to  be happy. i needed to be happy i needed to feel whole; a feeling i had never had. everything hit a plateau that summer; my world literally came crashing down, and i wasn’t so sure i’d come out alive. 

right off the bat that summer started with a horrible car accident (with my mom, step dad, (half) brother and a friend) our car flipped over and skidded down the opposite side of the expressway. we were all supposed to die, that’s how bad it was. thank god that physically everyone was okay. emotionally was another story. this triggered my mom’s emotions to a new height. i couldn’t bare it anymore which is why i went to live with my dad that summer. my step brother had pretty much stopped so i figured it would be alright. i figured wrong, so wrong.

the accident left me even more vulnerable than i usually was. my step brother was a predator, therefore, he thrived on that. now, this is the part of the story that i can never bring myself to say. but i promised myself i would do this so i’m going to just say it. he raped me. he took everything to a new level i never expected or knew existed. i wish so badly that i could say it was the only time. but it wasn’t. it went on for almost a year before god gave me the strength to walk away.

when 8th grade started in the fall i went back to spending every other week with my mom. bouncing back and forth from one hell to the next. it was quite the lifestyle. i walked into 8th grad a stone cold bitch, actually that might be an understatement. i was a horrible person. i would completely tear others down just to make myself feel better. my self hatred hit new heights. i opened a door i wish i had kept closed. a little voice was suddenly whispering in my ear, telling me that if i didn’t eat i would lose weight. not to mention it would be the only thing in my life i could have complete control over. even though, i would soon realize i, in fact, did not have any control at all. it controlled me. my demons became who i was.

i’d go a week or so of barely eating. i skipped breakfast, eat a bite here and there at lunch, and most nights i was on my own for dinner so i didn’t have to eat then either. but soon i couldn’t take not eating so i’d go into binge eating. i had tried to purge because it seemed so much easier. but i couldn’t, i physically could not do it. i realize now that was a blessing from god. i’d be lying if i said these roller coaster eating habits were few and far between. they still haunt me to this day. there’s something you should know about eating disorders. just because someone isn’t so sick they’re in the hospital, or they’re abnormally skinny doesn’t mean they don’t have an unhealthy relationship with food. food shouldn’t rule your life. 

things in my life hadn’t changed at that point, my smile was wearing thin. the pain became too much to bare. and i wasn’t allowed to cry. i was told that it’s a sign of weakness and i was not weak. i had no reason for crying so i better stop. i had no release, that is until i discovered cutting. but cutting wasn’t the only thing i discovered, pills helped too lots of them. so did drinking and smoking cigarettes. every single night i prayed to god that he would just let me not wake up in the morning. no one would miss me, right? all anyone seen me as was a fat, worthless pain in the ass that would never amount to anything, or so i was told. people at school hated me, i even hated me. i desperately wanted out, and god answered my prayer. i got out. i was still battling my demons, but i packed up my secrets and moved out of my dad’s house once and for all. sure it would be hard living with my mom but god gave me strength, when i didn’t even know he was there. 

walking into freshman year i still was the same person, just trying to survive. then my mom made me go to church. i hated it. i hated the world. why would i like church? i believed in god but i didn’t love him or even like him. through time i started making friends and people seen past my tough girl exterior. i was still living as two people but my walls started coming down and i started letting god in. eventually i surrendered everything and decided i couldn’t live this way anymore. i was going to live my life for him. i didn’t feel so hollow and alone anymore.

a week or so after i made this decision, when things were looking up, they came back down again. through a series of events and my careless mistake my mom found out. i left letters in my room in which had all my secrets. i know now that god lead her to those. my secrets were my shackles keeping me from being free. even though the truth is hard to face and it was one of the hardest times in my life. it wasn’t as hard as i would have expected it to be. because i wasn’t alone. it’s really kind of weird. the peace i felt was indescribable. he sent me true angles that without i don’t know if i fully could have made it. i was finally able to talk and cry. 

i know this has been really long, and i’m almost done but i have to tell you a quick story about how just before those secrets were realeased, i found out just how real god is. we had a missionary speaking at church one sunday and he did an alter call for physical healing. i went up with my friend as merely support for her. after all i was fine, right? up until this point no one knew that my heart was in shambles, and if they did they certainly didn’t know why. well, he stopped at me and said “i know that your heart is broken and you have been wronged in my ways. you’re strong, but it’s okay to surrender. god can heal your heart.” then he prayed for me. how did this man know that? it was surely the holy spirit. i held on to that through the coming weeks. 

my stories of the amazing things god has done don’t end there either. my life isn’t perfect, i’m not perfect but i have been set free. there’s no greater feeling than that. 

i eventually got professional help and had been diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder and clinical depression. my body image issues still haunt me and my relationship with food isn’t the greatest. but i try, and i give those demons to god when they come lurking back. that’s what’s most important.

if you’re still reading this, thank you. i truly love you for that. if you’ve gone through any of this, i love you. if you’re going through any of this now, i love you and i can promise you you’re not alone. while it may be dark now, it won’t be dark forever. 

if you take anything out of this, i want you to know that you are beautiful. three simple words. easy to say hard to believe.

you’re worth more than you endure. <3