So, back before I created this blog, back before I met kitten, back before florida happened... I was a mask. Or several, really. Marina didn't exist back then. What existed was a person who could not feel emotions because the trauma from being raped multiple times when she was ten made her cut them out of her. Total apathy. Laughter? False. Crying? Only physical pain, and incredibly horrible pain at that. Excitement? A facade. Sadness? What sadness? What fear?
The only thing I genuinely felt for at least three years of my life, was loneliness. Not your normal loneliness. It was like this all-encompassing hole of nothing swallowing me and making me see, every single day of my life, that I was completely, totally alone. That no one I knew understood me or would ever understand me because it was literally impossible for them to do so. So I made masks. I faked emotion. I was never happy, never sad, never angry, never upset, never scared.
Until I hit sixteen. See, I got a real bad case of walking pneumonia when I was fifteen, and was on a regimen of a narcotic cough suppressant to help keep me out of the hospital. Unfortunately it started bringing back memories of things, some good, some bad, that had happened to me as young as 3. I woke up from the dreams confused and befuddled, and convinced that they couldn't have happened to me.
Until I started asking my mom about them. And sure enough, every single dream I brought to her attention was something that was a memory. Of course, some things, like being raped, I didn't mention and didn't want to accept that had happened to me. Unfortunately all this culinated in an explosion. Very shortly before I hit sixteen years old, my masks broke, failed me, and I started feeling things again.
Can you imagine the agony emotions were to me after so long without them? Especially when, the moment I started experiencing emotions, I was experiencing severe bipolarity? I swung wildly back and forth between suicidal depression and dangerous mania. I felt anger so bad that I almost broke my sister's arm in a fit of rage. I was completely unequipped to deal with even normal emotions at this point of my life, and instead of even getting the opportunity to get used to it I was thrust into completely unpredictable instability.
Of course, eventually I learned to deal. Yeah, "dealing" included cutting and other forms of self-injury, "dealing" included becoming a kleptomaniac and thrill-seeker. But at least I wasn't succumbing to the suicidal thoughts any more (I have actively attempted suicide at least three times in my life, and listlessly attempted to waste away more times than I can count), and at least I had an outlet for the extra energy my mania gave me rather than allowing my anger to take control of me and hurt people.
No, it wasn't right, but it was better than what could have happened. It was better than what happened in florida, where I was abused, molested at knifepoint, raped, homeless on multiple occasions, had to steal just to survive. Just to eat. I've gone three weeks eating only one very small meal each week. I've never had to sleep on the street but I couchsurfed on the couches of total strangers for a month and a half. I let my boyfriend use me and his best friends abuse me, and repeatedly left somewhat stable situations in order to be with him, only to be kicked out weeks later.
I've been completely disconnected from any means of possible help and only by the grace of the divine managed to escape that hellhole with my life intact.
And that hole never went away. No matter how many friends I had, no matter who I loved, who I got into relationships with. Until suddenly it was gone one day and I realised that somehow it was kitten, the one person I actively pushed away and tried to avoid getting into a relationship with, that filled it.
The problem is, I'm not used to it being filled up. All those bad habits of pushing people away when I get into unpleasant moods, for their sake and mine both, they still exist.
What do you do when habit tells you to push someone away even though you know that it wont fix the problem? What do you do when even though you want to tell someone to stay, you order them to leave, and they have no choice but to obey you because you don't give them any other choice?
More importantly, how do you break these habits and form healthier ones?
I feel very lost and torn right now. I don't know what to do. I've been through so much shit in my life, more in my 27 years than most people experience in 90, and all my friends come to me for advice and I can help them just fine. I always have the right answers.. so why can't I find the right answers for myself?
I don't know what to do, and that's a really hard thing for me to admit.
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