thefox

I was going to post this as a comment to Persephoenix, in response to this entry, but decided that it belongs here.

I used to beat myself up in middle and high school... I probably would have gotten into cutting if I had known somebody else that did it. I punched the shit out of my forearms (sometimes my legs) while crying on my bedroom floor. I don't know when it started, and usually didn't realize I was doing it until I'd already left bruises. I would wear long sleeve flannel shirts in 90 degree weather just to cover it up.

One day, I was sitting on the floor, crying and beating the shit out of myself. The session had gone on longer than usual, and each punch was hurting pretty badly. It was like the severe pain (vs. the normally dull pain) broke me out of a trance... I looked down at myself like I'd caught myself doing something horrible, and finally realized what an idiot I was for doing this to myself.

I think that's the moment that I became angry at the world. I've been ranting ever since.

Though, sometimes I get angry at myself, or frustrated at others in ways I can't express, and I'll hit myself, again. Not very often, and it's been a while, but the temptation still creeps in.

To Persephoenix: I adore you, pretty lady, and realize that it's hard to overcome. You could be completely naked, fully clothed, dancing, still, rambling, or silent and I would still adore you. I think that knowing people like you, who seemingly have no reason to think anything negative about themselves, are struggling with demons that I can't fathom makes me want to overcome this even more. Because we are awesome. And we are gorgeous. And of all the horrible things that have caused us to be this way, none of them are our fault. We might have perpetuated it, but we didn't cause it to happen to us.

I didn't make my mother drink and cry and say horrible things about herself, me, my sisters, and (most of all) my father.

I didn't make my father disappear for more than two years.

I didn't make my sisters raise me, and subsequently lose their childhoods.

I didn't make my mother sleep through picking me up from school nearly every single day.

I didn't make our house a filthy place that I was embarrassed to bring friends to.

I didn't make my sisters fight.

I didn't make that kid try to set me on fire.

I didn't make my mother work nights, leaving me alone most nights.

I didn't make those men touch me and manipulate me.

Therefore, I shouldn't be punishing myself. I am not to blame for the things that have made me the way I am, today.

However, I am to blame for how I've reacted to them, and those are things I can change. I don't have to beat myself up. I don't have to push people away. I can teach myself to be clean and organized. I can keep in touch with my sisters and their children without feeling guilty. I can have children and not be cruel or selfish. I can enjoy sex for myself, and not to spite those who would use me for their own pleasure. And, most of all, I can forgive these people for doing these things to me... because, quite frankly, they probably didn't know any better... and I can be stronger than them by breaking the cycle.

I can, and do, love myself. I can let other people love me. I can let other people not love me.

And, I can take all the good I have in my life right now, and snuggle up with it, as a reminder that I can, and have, overcome some of the darkest corners of my past. Because I am awesome. And I am gorgeous.

No matter what anybody else says, thinks, or does.