sad girl ... how did i become her?

courtesy of unsplash

I've been a "sad girl" for as long as I can remember. I wish that was an exaggeration, but it isn't. I think puberty may have had something to do with it - but then again, maybe not, since my childhood was so depressing I don't have a lot of memories. It's possible that I simply "forget" when it started, or why. Or maybe it was always there.

I don't think so, though. I can remember, pre-fifth grade, having confidence. Being a happy, loud, fun-loving kid, willing to try anything, and convinced I was good at it all. Music, sports, drama club ... little me was a whirlwind. But somewhere around that same time is when I started losing it. In third grade, I wrote children's books that I asked my teacher to read to the entire class. In fourth grade, I wrote an essay on dolphins in my free time just cause I found them so interesting, and I asked my teacher to let me read it to the class. I was boring my classmates with essays before we even started learning what they were! But by fifth grade, I was a shadow person. I didn't want to have any attention on me - it always seemed to be negative. I think it was around this time that I realized my home life was not "normal". I couldn't trust my parents like some other kids seemed to. They always assumed the worst of me. They mocked me. They told my secrets. It was more than normal parenting mistakes.

My childhood of sadness and abuse primed me for an adult relationship that was also full of abuse and terror. I convinced myself I was the problem - if my parents didn't love me, and my partner didn't love me, and they all said I was the problem, I was the one making everyone miserable - well, that had to be true, right? Sometimes I still think it's true. Maybe I always will.
I started this blog because I know I am not alone - I read so many stories of other people trying to recover from abusive relationships, childhood trauma, and mental illness in general. This past month I could feel myself breaking, and I wasn't sure if I was going to kill myself, or implode my life. I still haven't decided. This is the action I'm taking instead.

Please, if you find this, and it speaks to you at all, please comment. Please share, please write to me. Let's commiserate together. When there is nowhere else that is safe to say everything you feel, this can be that place. Trauma, suicide, sadness, loss ... it can all live here. I hope you see my words, and know that you are not alone. I can't promise you that it gets better (I've been waiting 20 years), but I can promise that I know how you feel, and I will sit with you while you feel it.

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