Through all the twisting and grinding emotions that I feel deep within me on a constant basis, I never lose sight of the most important one; the drive that keeps me going.
I believe in myself.
My father is a bipolar manic. Growing up with him was not the easiest; my memories of my childhood are filled with fear and abuse. He would roller coaster; sometimes be a father, and others be a monster. I was almost arrested one night for protecting my mom and myself from him. He gave me a mild concussion when I flew into the wall. I sent him to the hospital shortly after. That was almost two years ago now, and he swears it happened differently, claiming innocence from the situation. Amnesia is a characteristic of mania, and hearing his version simply disgusts me.
I’ve tried drugs recreationally; prescription and illegal. However, I develop tolerances rather quickly so many things end up not working and I just give up. I have never and will never in my life take a drug out of mental pain; there’s too much of a risk involved of developing dependencies. That’s what my brother did, and I watched as he fluttered through countless rehab programs never quite getting better. It was all a drama show; he knew how to act in front of which people in order to get out after completing the programs. He almost died on my birthday from a heroine and alcohol overdose. To this day he’s still fighting drug addiction. I honestly don’t know if he’ll ever conquer it.
Therapy only helps if you let it. Mental barriers that a person has put up in order to shield them from life must come down in order to begin the rebuilding process. You cannot force a person into doing this; the person can only come when they are ready and are truly willing and wanting of help. My brother has taught me this.
There is a burn on my leg. It wasn’t an accident. Consisting of a design and five choice letters, I had planned it out rather than just hacking into myself with a white-hot blade. I knew it would scar, and I would have rathered something more ornate looking than a blotch. At the time that it happened it was a malicious act against myself, now it serves as a sacred and unworded symbol of what and who I am. With time it has faded, but some parts of the scar are deeply embedded, and will never part.
Someone once told me “Stand for something or you’ll fall for anything”. I am here today because I believe in myself. Though I may not know exactly where I am going in life or how I will get there, I know that the end results will be what I was aiming for, what I wanted. I believe in myself, even when it seems that no one else does. I am an awesome person, capable of awesome things.