Oh man...

Where do I start? I guess from the beginning. This is gonna take some time, but surprisingly I think I'm ready. So...here goes?

I'm gonna start at 17. I battled depression and self loathing for some time before, but this is when things truly started to turn around. By turn around I mean I was up shit creek without a paddle and a lot of lessons to learn, but my destiny was finally in my own hands. I'm gonna be 100% open here so you may wanna rethink reading through. 17 years old. Moved out of my parents. In with my brother. I partied like no other. Be still my broken heart, my best friend Jew-fro was still there (please don't be offended by that nickname. Kid isn't even Jewish he just had stereotypical hair) He faced his own battles but loved me so much he stuck around for mine. The truth about friends zones? They were created to keep saviors at bay when we women don't feel worthy of ourselves. The truth about knights in shining armor? They're bleeding hearts looking to save the world they see behind the eyes of a broken girl. Anywho, already I digress. 17 I took a turn for the worst. Parties every night, terrible decisions, promiscuity. I've told you all this part before. I let men use me in ways I shouldn't have. But if I had a warm body next to me I wasn't alone on the bathroom floor. I didn't have to face myself in the mirror. All that hurt and anger from years of abuse, neglect and tears. I drowned it out with alcohol and faces I can't remember. Oddly, the names are still there. I knew it was a bad road. Jew-fro tried to save me over and over. I wasn't ready. Boo tried too and then distanced herself because she couldn't handle it anymore. I don't blame her. She was doing what she needed to make sure she stayed healthy. If only I had been so wise as a teenager. She doesn't know it to this day but her parting words snapped me back to reality. She said you're gonna end up dead in a gutter. Nobody will even know who you are anymore. Ouchies. But she was right. And so I turned my attention elsewhere. Introducing (drum roll please) my ex-husband. The first thing I noticed was his laugh. The second was his incessant chatter. Now, here was a safe distraction from that pesky mirror. But it wasn't safe. I fell in love with the brokenness behind his eyes. And of course, I've shared the rest. Thought maybe if I could save him I had a chance at saving myself. Turned into a selfish perfectionist that wasn't happy with anything. He wasn't ready either. We imploded on each other. His parting words stuck too. "You never loved me for me, you loved me for the man you thought I could be." Ouchies. But he was right. Of course, now we consider each other friends for our kiddo. And we learned a lot of lessons from each other. But I've noticed his laugh isn't quite so entrancing and that chatter becomes a dull roar quickly. I don't want to lose myself in anyone. Not now, not ever. The very things that first attracted me to him now grate my nerves. Not his fault, so I bite my tongue these days. During that time I also met No. Great unrequited love that we all must have at least once in this lifetime. His demons drowned out my own. Flames so fierce it would set your heart afire. And it did. But loving him meant seeing a reflection of me I wasn't ready for. After that was the greatest mistake of my life. As Ollivander Wood once said "great things — terrible, yes, but great." So, in the essence of that quote Country Boy has been renamed Voldemort. Fitting. Quite so. I lost myself in his wild abandon. His recklessness. And I saw the signs, the red flags, but I didn't care. I let him control me. Of course at first it didn't seem that way. But deep down I knew. And there began my journey. Self healing. Growth. My first blog. Took me quite a while to get there. I started it when I began sleeping on the couch. I knew something wasn't right. Inside of me was something waking up that I had thought long buried. My hopes. My dreams. My heart. In its purest form. Aching and bruised, beaten to a pulp over the years. Not just by others. By my own decisions and neglect too. I had to get out. I had to shelter her. Nurture her. Let her grow. She was ready. She came out of nowhere and in the blink of an eye everything changed. She couldn't be controlled. Couldn't handle being manipulated anymore. At the time I had no idea the reasons, I just knew I needed out of there. But something more came with her. A price I had to pay. In awakening my hopes and dreams my demons sprang from the shallow graves where they were buried. In awakening my demons who should come about other than the very No my demons used to play with. And I still wasn't ready. But the journey had begun. There was no turning back now. So I left that controlling relationship but I was still bound there. Had nowhere to go. And I let my demons out to play, further damaging my already fragile heart. In the end I shattered. No disappeared as I knew he would (thanks for that, seriously) and Voldemort broke when he realized he had lost control. I wound up on my ex-husband's floor completely broken and waiting for none other than my mother. Woman I had sworn I would never depend on. Swore I'd never let in. I knew my demons all too well and where she was concerned I had always hid behind anger. But that night I was too broken to care. And as mothers do she set aside her own broken heart to rescue her daughter. Unconditional love. Something I had never understood, but that night I began to. Step two. Or three. Or four. Or whatever. I still couldn't face the stranger in the mirror. Full of grief and despair I quickly lost the hope I had just so recently found. I locked myself away from the world. But, then, a miracle. I was numb for a bit but then I started to feel. Real feelings too. There was grief, there was despair, but there was also a budding recognition. I was free. I was safe. For the first time in my life, locked away in that tiny apartment with just my son and mother, I was safe. They didn't judge me for the tears. They didn't ask questions when I acted crazy. They were just there. Called me out on my bullshit, for sure. Yet still they were there. Waiting for me to get better. Holding me accountable while loving me still And in the midst of it all her and I even began to grow closer. We had to hash out a few things first, but I had a new understanding. She made mistakes but she never stopped loving me. She tried. She loved me as her daughter even when she couldn't love herself. I knew that struggle. And for the first time ever, she gave me hope. If she could make it through the horrors of our past so could I. For a while I lost myself in that safety too. I needed it. I needed that shield from the world. And honestly I probably could have stayed there forever. I worked on projects to give myself a sense of purpose. I painted and sang and began to enjoy life from the safety of my little hideaway. Boo came back. She's always been so wise beyond her years. Told me I couldn't lock myself away forever. She literally dragged me out of the house. The sunshine hit my face and Holy Hell it felt wonderful. So maybe I could do this. Maybe I could reenter the world and still work on getting better. I was terrified. But I knew I had to start somewhere. I dated a crazy man. Recovering addict that wasn't so recovered and full of anger. I dated Bread. I actually really liked him, poor thing. He was a sweetheart but way too immature and part of me knew that. The fixer in me, at it again. His priorities were all kinds of screwed and no matter how much I adored him we were walking two completely different paths. I was searching for myself in all these people when deep down I think I always knew it wouldn't work. A few steps back, but still a momentum to move forward. With each failure was a lesson learned rather than a reason to hate myself more. That was huge. I found a new job. I created tentative friendships that would end up playing a part in the bigger picture (didn't know it at the time though). And then one day on the way home I rediscovered a hidden treasure. Bernheim Forest. I spent hours walking the trails, exploring, soul searching. To this day I feel like there are little bits of me spread all through there. I grow with the forest. It is still my favorite place I've visited on this earth. I started to feel better. I took up singing again, invested time in myself, became closer with my kiddo. Throughout all the mistakes I somehow managed to keep growinh. With each failed endeavour I learned something more. It was a new outlook. A new perspective. I was no longer this broken girl, I had hope and a future. In the midst of my self growth high I thought I was ready for another relationship. I don't even know what to call him anymore. So we're just not gonna say. Oh, but buddy, was I wrong. He was fake from the start. My life had taken on this fairytale sheen with all the happy feelings that come from growth but not accepting the full picture. And he played that to his full advantage. You all know the story. Or maybe you don't but I'm definitely not getting into it here. He played me for the fool I was. But even then I was blessed to a degree. My baby boy is still a joy, even if loving him means dealing with his father. But I'm getting ahead of myself here. When the fairytale good vibes fell apart I hit an all time low. I lost sight of my journey because of fear and anger. I went back to Voldemort. Oh, what a nightmare. It didn't take me long to realize the mistake I had made. He was even more controlling, more manipulative. He had lost control once and he was determined not to lose it again so he continuously tightened his grip. Except this time I saw it for what it was. Took me a minute, but throughout this journey I had slowly started to see myself in the mirror. I rallied those tentative friendships around me that had shown themselves to be true. And finally I broke free. Never again, I said. Never again. It was the final straw. I took off the rose colored glasses and saw the world. I saw myself and the mess I had made of my life. The mess I was turning into again. But, wait, there's more. I drug a poor kid into my self destruction. I knew he was no match for my demons. He was too young, too whole. And of course he tried to save me. He tried to hold on for dear life through this life of mine that was more like a roller coaster. I saw it though. I will always feel bad for hurting him, but I knew we would never work and I wasn't willing to continue going down that road. And that's when I knew. Over the course of the next few weeks I spent a lot of time by myself and surrounded by friends that weren't afraid to make me look in the mirror. I was open and honest for once. I was able to breath. No more hiding. No more hating myself. I finally began to accept myself for who I was, what I had been through and the decisions I had made thus far. I bared my soul for the world, knowing that at times it would hurt. But also knowing that if I couldn't deal with the occasional hurt I would forever suffer. I'll take a little pain (though at times its felt unbearable) for those moments of true happiness just around the corner. I still struggle a lot. I get lost or backtrack. I start to ignore the mirror. I get depressed, though not near as much as I used to. There are good days and bad. But now I know myself better. I know what to look for and I've learned enough through my experiences to most times at least be alright. I'm proud of my progress. It took a whole frickin lot to get here. It takes a lot to stay here and continue to learn. But every day I grow. I can look in the mirror. I see myself and I don't hate the reflection. My perspective has changed these past few years. It's no longer self hate or hiding in fear. It's understanding that there will be good and there will be bad. It's acknowledging my mistakes, learning from them and trudging forward. It's falling down but being open enough to let others help me back up (when needed). It's not being afraid of the hurt or letting others down or being too afraid of someone else walking away. It's accepting that we're all on our own journeys, being there to help others on theirs but being strong enough to step back and say no if it starts to pull me off mine. I am the owner of my happiness. I create it in my heart. And when I get down that's what I have to remember. I'm lucky enough to have people around I can ask for that reminder. It took a lot of hurt and lessons learned to figure out who they are. It isn't about being strong. It's about balance. Being open to being vulnerable, because that's how we learn from others. Being open to possible hurt or disappointment, because if the door is closed love can't get in either. Being open and honest even when it's hard, because if not you'll die a thousand deaths from unspoken words. Being open and accepting towards others emotions, because they're on their own journey too and it's not always what's happening on the surface that matters. That one is my biggest struggles these days. I see others emotions and I've studied so much and worked so hard I can usually see where those emotions are coming from (not always, and I'm not afraid to admit that I'm sometimes wrong) but it makes me want to fix their hurt. I can't though. I'll just join them in their misery. Just like nobody could save me until I was ready to save myself. It's a battle we each have to fight for ourselves. All we can do is be there for each other. Openly, honestly, and without trying to force change for someone else's journey. And that last sentence I think it's why I was Inwood to right this. I needed to remember those words...another lesson learned (or re-learned; )