A Not So Christmas-y Post

I had so many ideas for this post. I mean Christmas is right around the corner so, my heart (and tummy) should be warm with the holiday spirit, right? The only problem is that it isn't. No, actually, my head, my heart and my spirit are cold and heavy. I understand if you would rather not read this post since you all are probably in the holiday spirit and I really don't want to be a downer. However, besides writing for you all, I also, write for myself and I need an outlet right now. So, please, do not let me bring down your holiday high, but if you wish to continue reading on, then, please do.

Recent events have made me question my strength. Not just physical, but both spiritual and emotional strength. You see, for the majority of my life, I have had a hard time dealing with stress. I suffered from hive breakouts as a child. My family thought that I was allergic to something so, they began to watch how I reacted to food. Of course, the food never made me breakout. One time when I broke out, my grandmother rushed me to the doctor. My mother (only in DNA. I use the term loosely) refused to take me. The doctor asked what happened before the break out. I told her about the morning argument my "mother" and grandparents had and how I had a test in school. Her conclusion? Stress was the cause of my hives. My family tried to laugh it off, wondering what stress someone as young as me could have. Well, I eventually, learned how to stop the break outs. They occurred less and less before, finally coming to a complete stop. I had learned to stop my body from reacting to the stress by placing all the pressure on the inside. Now my mind and spirit were the ones suffering. But, at least, the pain wasn't so obvious,so people couldn't see my weakness. It was kind of an upgrade, right?

Well, years later I learned that, like the body, the mind and soul have their limits, as well. My emotions (especially anger) became harder and harder to control. It would feel like something else was coming out of me, like a red eyed monster was taking me over, but you know what? I liked it. I didn't mind the anger taking control of me because I knew this red eyed monster could protect me. She wouldn't let Fay (I'm tired of calling her mom) hit me or my brother anymore. She wouldn't let her call us nasty names and make us feel bad. She would stop Fay. She would hurt her because Fay was the true demon, not her, so any pain she dealt out was justified. The problem was that I didn't want to be angry all the time. But, I was so use to feeling that way nearly 24/7 that I didn't know how to turn off that emotion and just be.

I tried to simply suppress my emotions. Worst idea ever. In high school, I began to notice that I was having some sort of internal battle. You see, I was still angry about what had happened to me int he past and what was still happening to me at the time. I wanted to be happy and move on, but the anger inside me was still present and flaring. It would fight for control at any moment. I was slowly losing control and began hating myself for not being strong enough to regain it. This resulted in breakdowns when presented with lots of mental or emotional pressure.

Let me give you a brief history of me. This way when I talk about my past "issues" you all will actually know what I am referring to. So, first. Fay was both a drug and alcohol abuser, though, she preferred alcohol over pills. Up until about the time I turned 10 or 11 she would physically and verbally abuse me and my brother. When I got old enough I could finally defend myself. I remember one night she was coming at me, still believing me to be the weak child she could do with what she pleased, when I swung. Yes. I swung. For the first time in my life I swung at her. She was shocked. From that moment on she knew new boundary lines had been drawn. We fought many times after that. More times than I can count.

She couldn't physically abuse me anymore without fear of having some dealt back at her , but the verbal abuse was still rampant. She would call me fat, ugly and tell me no one liked me. I was a nappy headed nigger, stupid, a piece of shit and any other lovely things a "mother" should day to her daughter. We lived with my grandparents, but they would never put Fay out. She was their daughter. To them it just wasn't right. So, me, my brother and everyone else who lived in that house just had to suffer. Some of the worst years of my life. Some of the most learning years of my life. Some of the darkest thoughts of my life. You shouldn't be an eight year old thinking about suicide.

Let's bring it back to the present. Recently, I have been placed into a situation that has caused my internal conflict to rise up again. I know the right thing to do. I don't want to be violent. I don't want to be angry, but my emotions are getting the best of me. I'm afraid I'll lose it. I thought I was strong enough to fight against it, but now I see that it is still stronger than me. I'm having a hard time going on and I am losing myself in this red fury. What should I do?

I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar errors. As you can see this was an emotional post, so, sorry. I just need to be strong and move on. I need to remember that no matter how many people hate, no matter what they say or do to me, it all only effects me if I allow it. I'm better than that. I know I am. I want to keep smiling the way I am in the picture above. Truly smiling, not the ones that cover up darker feelings.