My Story 

So, I've been journaling on and off for a while. When I'm on my emotional high, I stop, you know, because I'm magically fine. I've always had self-loathing, but I didn't really have crippling depression and anxiety until the last year. I've found solidarity and peace knowing that others who've had similar upbringings experiences share the same issue, and it's my hope to really heal myself and provide a story for others that are trying to heal themselves. In other blogs I've read, the first step is writing your story; this allows you to first, get out your bottled-up emotions out, and second, to identify reoccurring themes in your life. So, here goes... 

Early Life 

Well, my mom had me at a really young age. She was 19, didnt graduate high school, and was still a child mentally herself. She was sexually abused by family members: her brother and her uncles. My grandmother knew, but didn't do anything, in fact, she told my mom to lie about it when my mom told her teachers. I still harbor resentment towards my grandma. So, as you can imagine, my mom coped in unhealthy ways. She tried to commit suicide, drank. did drugs, would leave, fight with my dad. I can't really blame her though. I would be much worse. I grew up feeling like, maybe if I was a little better, than I would be enough for her to stop those things and let go of the past. That never happened. 

My dad was just a kid, too. I never really knew if he had been abused as a child or not. His dad wasn't in the picture, and his mom was a little coo-coo, but he never verbalized his trauma to me. He would take me shoplifting when I was 5 or so. Stole from his friends. Did dumb stuff like do drugs at my grandma's. He and my mom used to fight. Really bad. This one time I vividly remember my dad proposing to my mom after a fight, he bought her a ring from walmart, she got mad that it was from walmart and threw a mirror at him. She had this distinct demonic-like scream. I remember taking my siblings and hiding in the room until they were done. I'm sure there are other fights that I dont remember, sometimes I'll be doing something random, and memories just pop up that I didnt know I had. 

Now, this is where my memory is all jumbled up. I know I lived with my aunt, my grandma, and my dad, and my mom, all individually and all during separate times. What I dont know is when each portion was. 

I remember going to elementary school in Anchorage with my aunt for part of the year. She crazy. She has her own issues of substance abuse and physical abuse. She would fight with my uncle and break his stuff. like his drumset with a hammer. Anyway. That life wasn't bad. I was in school, my aunt had money, so she bought me nice things, like clothes and hair stuff that my mom wouldnt be able to afford. My mom got sober again, so I went back with her. 

I think this is around the time when my dad left my mom. Which was good, they were awful together. All they would do is fight, do drugs, drink, and have sex. I mean, I still have good memories. like, when my dad would go to the gas station and buy us all milk and icecream. or when he would make jerky. but most of my memories that I remember arent that great. My mom was drinking as a passenger while my dad was driving. she got mad and pulled the wheel. we got into a car crash. we all ended up in the hospital. I remember my dad in a cast coming to my room and telling me that he is so sorry and crying. I remember rage toward my mom and adoration toward my dad. I remember the X-ray. I remember walking around when I wasnt supposed to. I remember hating my mom for letting my dad take the blame. 

I think for a while I just lived with my grandma, which looking back now, I resent my mom for letting happen. If my grandma let those things happen to her, why would she subject me to the same things? Anyway, those were great memories. My grandma was fine, by herself at least. We would go fishing, camping, and berry picking. She adored me when I was little. I was her namesake. She was a little off. This one time we had a dog in the back of our car and she didnt notice she was dragging him for a couple miles. She had a lot of trauma that she never spoke about as a child. She did talk about my grandpa physically beating her up and cheating on her and drinking. She attributed him getting sober to praying. A thought process she passed to me. Like I wasnt a strong enough Christian in my prayer for my mom to stop. 

I remember staying with my dad's mom, my other grandma, in a trailer park in Anchorage. My grandma doted on me. Every time I went to the store, she had to buy me something. She was a hippie, a little weird, but nothing awful that I remember happening. 

When we moved back in with my mom, just her. She would leave. She would just leave while we were sleeping and not come back till the next morning or the next day or a couple days. I developed a habit of staying up until she went to sleep, not wanting her to leave us. She would still go. I really remember that happening when I was in 5-8th grade. I learned how to cook. I made food for Deandra and Nathan and got them to school and I stayed home and watched TV. Lydia was probably around a year or so when I really remember her taking off. I was just a kid. Why would she do that to me? And I just operated like it was okay. It wasnt. it's not okay to just leaving your child home alone to take care of your kids. it's not okay to abandon them. 

Takeaways 

hurt is hurt 

you need to address things from when you were a kid 

i never really thought about my past. I always dismissed it with, "people have it worse" "everything is fine" "I had a good life" looking back, I developed unhealthy coping mechanisms to hide my self-loathing.