Wherein I talk about mean people and happiness. (TW: Abuse)

I’ve been dealt a bad hand when it comes to friends. I had some friends once but they’re not friends any longer. There was a time when coming to that realization would hurt me to the core but I’ve had some time to mend and pick up my pieces and well, it’s not so hurtful anymore. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I am a good person; I’ve never picked up a cigarette, done a drug, and I don’t really drink (not that people who do those things are bad people; some of the best people have addictions). I did get arrested once but it was over the stupidest reason (yeah, yeah, sure, that’s what they all say…), but really, it’s the truth. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and it’s just my luck, and by ‘my luck’ I actually mean that I don’t have any. A while back I thought that I was in love; I thought I was in love with someone who was self-centered, who didn’t put me first, who loved his Playstation 3 more than he loved me. We had a baby and my “friends” slowly dwindled away. Our friends turned to his friends who urged him to leave me. He did, in the worst possible way. My “best friend” lured him to her all the while pretending to be there for me. I can’t even describe the pain I felt from that, and I don’t really remember how I moved on. Having your heart smashed to pieces is hard enough when it’s done by one person, but two people? That was tough. Really, really, really tough. I was alone after that. I didn’t trust anyone I knew. At some point I even blocked every. single. person. from my graduating class (and his) because I felt like I was the subject of their gossip and mockery. I didn’t want to be that girl that people pitied; “Oh, that’s so sad that he left her and her baby.”, “It’s such a pity, who will want her now?”. I just disappeared; vanished; gone. No one knew where I went. I was hurt and I didn’t know how to cope so I just left. Who cared anyway, right? I didn’t.

Going from a family of three to a twosome was difficult for me. I didn’t have support. I didn’t have a chest to lay on at night when I was overwhelmed and needed comforting. I didn’t have anything but a five month old and a dog. I almost became homeless and I starved myself for months so my baby didn’t. My entire life fell apart with the blink of my eye and there was nothing I could do about it. I dwelled in the darkness; in the pain. I wallowed in my own pity for so long and cried myself to sleep so often that I didn’t know how to pull myself out of bed in the mornings. I don’t think I got out of bed except to feed N the entire time I was in this state. It’s hard for me to think back on those times because I honestly have no idea how I pulled through it. I’m just not a strong person. At least I didn’t think I was.

Skipping forward, I started to ‘reappear’ and trust select people. It was a lengthy, drawn out process with lists of people, with their names crossed off as if I was inviting them to my 10th birthday party. It’s not easy learning to trust again. It’s not easy at all, especially when you’ve been burned. I’m still learning to forget my past aches and breaks, even after nearly three years. I am constantly reminding myself that life is a roller coaster; that life sucks. C’est la vie.

I never deserved the things I’ve been handed in my life, apart from N. She is my entire world and there is never a moment that passes by that she doesn’t make me a better person. I become better every single day and I wish other people could have someone in their life to make them better people because God knows they need it.

I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, stemming from my childhood. My mom always told me to suck it in, her (then) husband called me a fat cow. I wasn’t even a teenager yet and I had already been a victim of verbal and mental abuse. If only the physical abuse never happened, but unfortunately it did. I went on to be with people who treated me like dirt; who used the back of their hand to show their affections for me. I went on to be with people who talked down to me and not only made me feel worthless, but made me believe it. I settled because my mother set a bad example by always being with a man and never putting herself or her children first. To my mother, a man would always come before her child and sadly that never changed. After back to back relationships and marriages she’s still the same unavailable ”parent”. She always will be.

Going back to my depression and heart break, I somehow managed to move on. I escaped the nausea that came with dealing with N’s dad and I got past the anger and resentment. I took steps forward and I haven’t looked back. Although I am the happiest I have ever been in my entire life, it has not come easy. There have been obstacles and a lot of name calling thrown at me since I took the necessary steps to get happy, but it’s all been worth it. Sticks and stones, sticks and stones. Words will never break me. Not anymore, rest assured.

Happiness does not come easy but it does come to those who are patient. It hurts like hell to wait, but you will be glad you did when it’s all over. Destiny, fate, whatever you call it. You will find it.



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