Your Story Isn't Over

I've written before about how I use to abuse myself. I will have to admit sometimes I am still hard on myself, more than I should be. However, I know people who are still stuck in this loop.
I get to say I moved past it. I moved past harming myself.

Does that make my story over?

It was for attention, mostly. I did like the control of it. It was something I could control. I could control the things that were happening for the first time in my life. That was something that felt better, even through the pain, the control felt better.

I've talked to my boyfriend about some of this and he's opened up some about the way he feels like he is in control of his body. He has different ways than I did, which I'm thankful for; however, in the end it will cause more problems than not.

He was talking about "Project Semicolon". I had heard about it and knew people who supported it, but other than that I never really paid much attention to it.

Today I was looking it up and reading more about it.

This is from their website:

"We envision love and hope and we declare that hope is alive;

We envision a society that openly addresses the struggle with mental illness, suicide and addiction; 

We envision a conversation embraced by churches and addressed with love;

We envision a society that sees their value and embraces it; 

We envision a community that comes together and stands together in support of one another;

We envision a world where an escape is not found within drugs or alcohol;

We envision a world where self-destruction is no longer a escape to be used;

We envision a revolution of LOVE and declare that our stories are not over yet;"

-Amy Bleuel

Founder & President

Just reading that alone I was pulled in. It connected me into a new sight. It brought back these feelings when I thought all hope for me was lost. I was lucky enough to be found, found by my own self. I know some people aren't that lucky. However, like it says on Project Semicolon, your story isn't over. The point of ";" in general. It's so small, simple, but beautiful. 

Read more about Project Semicolon here: http://www.projectsemicolon.org/

Part three: Trying Or Just Pretending.

 I can't pretend things are okay when they're not. I can hold my head up and push through and one day it will be okay. Until then, everyone needs a day to just cry. What about after that though? What can we do to pull ourselves out of that? 

Person A:  "I've actually tried believing what my husband says.I don't vocalize any insecurities I may have. I don't put myself down, and I don't make sarcastic remarks about myself. I originally started doing it because of the way it affected my husband. Whenever I'd "correct" him and say "No I don't," or "You're just saying that because...", I wouldn't always notice it, but it DID affect him. Here he was, lovingly telling me something he likes about my physicality, and I was telling him he was wrong. I wasn't validating his feelings. I'm not saying I was being "ungrateful," but after I while, I could tell that it legitimately made him sad. He loves me, and is verbalizing said love, and I would dismiss it. How sad are we when we try to comfort someone, honestly and earnestly, and they openly deny said comfort? I was openly throwing his affirming words, telling me things I wished someone would tell me my whole life, back in his face, because I was too insecure to even TRY to believe him.

Simply saying "thank you" has changed everything."

Person B: "I am a very depressed person. I’m not going to lie. I hate myself for eating poorly. I hate myself for being diagnosis with PCOS. I hate myself for being afraid to love myself for who I am and what I look like. I now hear my friends say I’m beautiful. Of course my family would say that even though I know I’m the ugliest out of all my cousins. Yeah I may have a pretty face but that doesn't help my hatred of my body. Going from a size 13 to 18 in one year was really bad. Then finally being diagnosis with PCOS after not knowing what was wrong with me. I never ate that much growing up. I never ate candy. But I still blame myself for the weight gain. I feel like someone would love me if I was skinny. I'd get guys falling for me. Get leads in plays for being skinny. No one loves the fat girl. They always think I’m big because I eat. Not necessarily. But then my anxiety triggers my depression. Which triggers my thoughts on why i hate myself. I hate myself because I’m fat. I’m trying my hardest to fix it. I go to the gym. I take the right medication now. I’m slowly trying to stop drinking pop. I’m trying to love myself as every other human does."

Person C: "Overeat....cry....get mad...crave fruits and veggies....not much good to be honest."

Person D: "There was this exercise in my psychology class. Every single day we had to look in the mirror and say "I love you." At first, it felt like a waste of breath but over time, it worked. Now I can happily say that I loved myself again. The support of my family and friends helped a ton. Slowly I am repairing myself from the years of self-hatred and I can go into a dressing room now and look in the mirror and say "Wow, I look awesome." Just this past year I purchased two pairs of booty shorts. My legs and butt are the parts I'm most self-conscious about. It was a statement for me, a stepping stone, a big leap. And it felt great."

Person E: "I work out and try to eat right. I tell myself I need to be healthy and being healthy is really what matters. Roller derby and being surrounded by incredible supportive people helps too.

Eating is something I've always struggled with though and I fall back into old hanks of not eating, continuing to feel bad about myself, and then gorging on everything. I usually just end up feeling sick though and then try to get back on course with eating regularly and as healthy add possible."

Person F: "My exterior is imperfect and many things have helped. I think I came to terms with what I was given. I will never be a small woman, but I like that now. There were small things, like a website I found that showed real women's breasts in a nonsexual manor, and that helped immensely. I used to think there was something wrong with them because they weren't perfect and airbrushed. They are real and mine.

I have always hated having big feet, but it means heels are more comfortable; I hated my height, but I like being able to see over stuff; I hated my legs, but even if they don't fit pants right, dresses and skirts are great for that; I have a big head, but it motivated me to make my own hats.
Really I have always loved me in spite of everyone else's input. The most difficult thing to do was tune out all of the negatives. Embracing others faults was a huge step towards excepting their ignorance and judgment. I may dress a bit differently, but it's not to appease others, but myself. Actually I always dressed for me, I just try a little harder to match now."

Person G: "It has taken years and I am still struggling with it. I am finding confidence now that I am in my 30s but still lots of work to be done on the inside to be ok with the outside."

 

Person H: "Therapy helped me get to a place where I didn't internalize blame. Blame for my pain and how I felt unreliable. It also taught me that I could ignore the voice of my mother, telling me how to look and feel.

Now I dress how I like. I'd say the genderfluidity has always been there, though I didn't have a name for it. I just liked some parts of men's clothing and liked how I look in it. I wasn't masculine or femme. I was me. I think that mindset really came into being when I started taking birth control pills that eliminated my period. I forget sometimes that periods even exist. It's AWESOME! I think that was the last time I really thought of myself like a lady, per say, and not just like me. That last thing that made me truly female in my mind. I want to note that I don't really see myself as having a disconnect between my physical body and my gender or anything like that. I'm me. I dunno. I'm sure if I talked to a doctor there's a specific term for that."

Person I: “Eating. I love it. So much. But again every day is different. If you ask my friends, I can eat like a horse – just keep piling food in, never seeming to get full. If you ask my boyfriend, he may agree – but he knows a darker side. He would tell you that I rarely eat, I only eat in front of people, that I only eat tiny amounts of food in private (unless it is a video game marathon where I can’t get enough junk food). I do not eat any fast food. I haven’t since December of 2013. Just something I believe is super unhealthy for you. Don’t get me wrong if a friend bought some micky d’s I sure as hell am going to have a French fry – but no more than 3.

 I think the 100lb mark is scary. While that may seem crazy, it is the truth. I don’t want to be over 100lb. I have stretch marks on several different parts on my body, with new ones popping up almost monthly. This is where every day is different. I look in the mirror, I can see sag, I can see stretch marks, I can see my rib cage, I can see my hip bones, I can see an hourglass, I can see someone who looks sick. This is what I see most days – not what I should be seeing, a confident young woman. But don’t get me wrong, I do have those days too. They are just few and far between. I can feel beautiful, take a selfie then two weeks later look and say “what the hell were you thinking” You look terrible, look at the bags under your eyes, the cellulite on your thigh.

I have never truly shared my feelings, now and then I have a really bad day that can end in tears and I simply tell my boyfriend I am just having a difficult day. They always pass. My issues do not make me want to intentionally hurt myself, or make me angry, or resentful. I am me; I do what I can to make myself better every day- put on that eyeliner at work, if that is what I need that day to feel beautiful. I don’t like when any one comments on my weight. I think it is rude. The one I get most often is “how do you stay so thin” I don’t look back and say “Well, how did you get so fat?” That would be mean. I take it the same way. What if I was having a bad day, what if that morning I looked in the mirror and thought to myself I looked like a malnourished holocaust victim? How would that make them feel if I told them that? I wish people understood that I have just as many issues as other people.”

Try believing, surround yourself with amazing people, eat better, eating at all, take care of yourself more, say fuck the world?

I started this blog to track my progress. The DCP, derby....life and where I was going. Then I hit a wall. I often think about the past; the past being something I wish I would stop thinking of. I can't stop wondering how different life would be if the smallest of things were to have changed.

If I didn't sprain my ankle, I would've already taken my skills test and who knows...I might even be able to play derby. If I would've taken the DCP I would be going down there right now and enjoying my, seemingly, dream job. I wouldn't be applying for new jobs, stressing over what I'm going to do with the rest of my life.

Stressing. Part of me seems like that's all I've been doing lately.

When I started this blog, I wasn't stressing. I was in a pretty good place and I had big things planned out in my mind. That just goes to show where life can take you.

In order to get over some of this stress, I have to face the past. I have to face the past...have to.

I've already made a post about how depressed I once was...I was in a dark place for a while, blaming just about everyone else for my problems. It's easy to do. It's normal to do. It's called being a teenager.

However, being me, I had to take it to the next level. There was a few months where I didn't know where I was going. Just about fell in to the wrong crowd was step number one. I didn't really eat, something I still struggle with often, and I started doing self-harm. I recall just out of my little group of friends, about half us did self harm. It took me a while to admit it, even if others around me was willing to admit their problem. I'm happy to say it never became more than a couple of times of me being to hard on myself.

I remember that one time I told my mother that this was all happening and she just looked at me and said "it's okay." I was hurt. It didn't seem like she cared and it threw me. It made me realize at that point I was only trying to get some attention. I was being selfish and childish and I needed to grow up.

Being bullied through most of middle school is part of my issues as well. Because of that, I wanted everyone to like me. Feeling like if everyone liked me then life would be easier, I wouldn't get hurt so much..blah blah blah. I didn't understand back then that I didn't need to change, I like who I am.

Yes, I am crazy. Yes, I over think things. I like to plan things, I have a hard time relaxing and just going with the flow. It's been something I've been working on. People are always changing, growing and learning. Until then, I'm just trying to go through life being the happiest I can be.

Now, I realize most of my post lately have been down and mostly just annoying, to be honest. I'm working on a big post about body images, uses, and stories that people have been willing to share with me. I'm really looking forward to that. I'm working on spending time on me, spending time with my friends, and enjoying life as things come. It's hard for me. I'm sure it's hard for others as well.

I guess with these posts, I can only hope that someone reads it and realizes that they're not the only one that feels this way. They're not alone. They're not annoying people. They're not some thing that should be pushed aside. No one who truly cares about you will push you aside. They will be there for you even if they don't text back in the same day, if they don't see you every day...they care and they will be there when it counts most. Calm down. Deep breath. It gets better. It's not even as bad as you think. Tough words. Tougher to take in. Even tougher to believe.

I read this article on Buzzfeed that pretty much sums up what you're going through if you feel this way about anything: http://www.buzzfeed.com/annaborges/hello-anxiety-my-old-friend?bffbhealth&utm_term=4ldqpkl#.qpE644drv

Soon my post will be filled with happy thoughts and the best of times. With good times; however, come the bad. In posting with this blog I like to truly capture everything that goes through my mind. There is no point in acting like I'm perfect or like my life is perfect. It's not. It's an inner struggle most days to get out of bed. However, I smile, I put happy thoughts into my mind, and I realize that my life truly isn't a bad as I think it is. It isn't perfect, but perfect is boring.