You Are Not Alone

It’s easy to think of all the things I don’t have yet. The negative self-hate talks in my mind get louder the older I get. SO, I’ve had to learn to shut it down quick. It’s like, who am I?! How the fuck did this narrator in my mind get hired. Where does this self-loathing and hate really come from? Why have I given the little self-hating bastard so much ammo? Where did I even get the ammo? Some mornings I wake up and the thoughts start pouring in, “You’re not going to wear that are you?” “You should really cover up, you’re pretty large in the back”, “You’re not cute and you’re not funny”, “You’re just a part of a generation that lived at home until almost 30”,”You’ll always struggle” “You’ll never be able to make it on your own” “Wow, you must have been hungry, look how much you ate!” “You’re an ungrateful bitch”, “Who do you think you are? ”Get real, you think you’re the only one who’s been cheated on?” “What makes you so special?”

Having an internal dialogue is normal and mine is under permanent renovation. Even before the blog I couldn’t stand my thoughts and my mind was feeding grounds for self-loathing and negativity. I became friends with another girl in Pleasantville when I first moved in with my dad and stepmom. She would pick me up in her Ford Taurus and was always sweet; she was a cheerleader and was a good friend to me for as long as she could be. I would literally start cussing and freaking out at 7 am. She never said a negative word to me about it, just laughed and tried to be there for me. Can you imagine, having to be a friend to someone who hates everything, including him or herself. Home is not a place to relax for them its just a place to sleep and eat and be watched under a microscope…

I get that I’ve been a victim. I get that I know the truth, I get that I was a lost cause and completely drained all the people around me, but I’m better now. I own my story and I’ll carry on. Reflecting is just a part of my process. I accept my story and turn over my doubts to God. I still have a few loose ends to tie up and have a few people in my life that I can depend on. Most importantly I now know that the most toxic people to my existence are not in it.

I watched a documentary about a gentleman that was in a cult. He revealed that the greatest tactic a person could use on another person, to get that person to behave how they want them too, is to have the victim create their own prison in their head. It becomes the choice of the victim to stay and not because the abuser had anything to do with it. Manipulating a person’s mind is the easiest way to control them and least likely to be noticed. By dropping subtle hints to the victim that they are unattractive, rightfully have low self-esteem; don’t know how life really operates, etc. The abuser can take on a God-like persona to the victim, which feeds into the insanity of the abuser. To internalize the projections of an abuser is a form of mind control. I was living in a mental prison created by control freaks until I was almost 30. My family tried to break me with subtleties, and to the rest of the world I was living a privileged life. Go figure.

I found that I naturally turn to running when the self-hating narrator starts up. I’m not a fancy runner like these marathon people or 5k racers. I’m like fucking Forest Gump. I run at a pace that works for me and won’t stop until my legs go numb or my lungs give out. The fastest I’ve run is a 13-minute mile, but I was wound pretty tight that day. I turn over the rest of the bullshit in my head to my higher power and I seem to be able to navigate through my emotions more clearly after a good run or spending time outdoors.

I took my little guy on a hike the other day. Standing on a trail and away from all the noise of other humans I was able to admire the ant. It never tires and moves with purpose… Never questioning whether it should because it knows its destination. The playful chipmunks reminded me not to take myself to seriously. When I looked up all I could see were the canopy of trees and I felt protected, like they were hugging me. It was my little ones first time on a trail and he definitely held his own and enjoyed seeing all the bugs and a waterfall. Towards the end of the trail he ended up on my shoulders. I immediately felt a sense of pride. I needed to be in the forest and to push myself to carry him uphill. The sweat was pouring down my face and he’s close to 40lbs now, I felt like a super woman. I wish someone could have recorded it for us. We were quite the pair.

The weight of my struggle is heavy but I will persevere because that’s who I am. My new motto is ‘Sustain the hunger to hustle harder’.

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