October 31, 2021

I am 20 years old, just had a birthday last month.. I have written in diaries all my life and have burned and thrown them away as a way of getting rid of the past and entering the new times once I felt ready to let go of all those hard and painfull memories.. but I have also always had the small thought in the back of my mind that tells me that I shouldn't let be confiding all of my deepest feelings and most tramatizing memories in a small little book anymore. Just to throw away later and never confront the problems.

and if anyone is honestly willing, and has a good heart... I am sure you will keep reading this.

but if you chose not to listen, and just be nosey well then... I can only ask of you to not judge me; because I am about to spill everything that I have been bottling up for the past 14 years of my life.

I am the eldest daughter of my family. Both my parents are hard workers and they have come so far in the past 14 years of my life that I can remember clearly.

When I was a young child I always saw what my parents tried to hide from us... but because I was a curious child I always saw more than what they wanted.

We grew up struggling, counting pennies and dimes just to make sure that we could have enough for gas to get to the doctor or to go gorcery shopping.

We hopped houses when the rent became to much of a struggle, and my Daddy worked many hours day in and day out, and even weeks on end out of town or state.

My Momma has always been a stay at home mother, and even when times got harder and she also needed to work.. she tried to hide that too. But it was always easy for me to figure out.

My life was always, dont ask for anything that is not needed; and as a child I never fully understood what was needed and what was not needed. So I never asked for anything.

If I got hungry, I would mention it to my paretents and depending on thier response I would either ask again or wait it out... If I needed help with a homework assignment, I would not say a word and wait for the next day when I could ask my teacher for help, and most of the times my teachers would get mad and just fail the assignment.

but those are only the small things...

All her life, she was fed wtih a silver spoon... through my parents and through me, because growing up watching my parents work so hard I never wanted them to have me as a burden.

so I secretly helped my mom hide things from her... by telling her stories that made everything seem as though it was all ok.

That instead of going to McDonalds like we both wanted, she could have the first serving of mac and cheese at home, and the last hot dog in the fridge.

and if Mom was able to save up enough money for us to go shopping for new shoes or a new shirt, then I would insist on helping her find the most cutest pair of shoes we could find and the settle myself for whatever my mom picked up for me with the remaing budget we had.

Little by little over the years, I have always done for others and never for me.

At school I was always bullied, and never had any friends... because the clothes I wore were a little to small for me, or the shoes I wore were not pretty like the other girls' shoes... my accent was not normal, because growing up in a bilingual house hold did not help language skills.

speaking backwards in both languages, as well as not knowing how to say certain words in your main language at school.

Eventually books became my escape, as well as drawing.

When I was in the 5th grade I finally started to make few friends, I had only one friend who was a true friend for me since the 3rd grade, and he was the person I could alwys run to after school when I needed that hug and those fun hang out times. He also helped my with homework sometimes... just so that I could go outside to play with him for the rest of the day.

He never judged and was always kind, and I can honestly say that I am blessed to still be friends with him now.

but by 5th grade year I had to move out of the county we lived in, my parents found a better place to stay with what they hoped were better schools and a better community. So of course I lost contact with everyone at my old school and neighborhood.

I was about 10 or 11 years old then, and I was obviously devestated because I only just begun making new friends at the time as well.

When we moved I became quiet for a while, and I did not want to talk to any of the kids in the new school, becuase I did not want to get bullied... but the kids thought that I was being rude and decied that they were going to bully me anyhow.

At home the financiall state of my family was growing better and my parents did not have to count dollars as often, only when they needed to save up for something important or because they wanted to make sure that they were not overspending.

I was still the odd ball out.. and the kid who always did wrong, because I no longer had my friend to help my with my studies, my grades started to fall again... and I was struggling with school and house chores.

The teachers at first tried to help me make up grade by giving my extra credited work, but when they saw that I wasn't completing the assignments that they had given me, they assumed it was becuase "I didn't care about school" and instead submitted my failing grades.

At home I was always being screamed at and put down because of my grades and my poor work efforts in the home, but I was depressed, and I was always scared to tell them.

Depression is not something that a child is born with, but is a development within the brain that is triggered by past traumas.

My depression was developed through always being the singled one out and never being appreciated, as well as the emotional abuse that my parents always gave me.

My mental state was at its worse going through puberty, because of the inbalenced hormones and the already developed childhood deppression, I was driven to the point of almost attempting suicide.

Until I had only one friend save me from myself.

Luckily I was still able to make one new friend when we moved, and she had a older brother in our grade level and he only tolerated me because of his sister. Till one day I dont know what switched in him, but when I was hanging over at their house; his sister left me alone to do something and we were left alone.

He grabbed me and pulled me to where no one could see us hiding and looked me straight in the face and said

"You are not going to do it."

I asked him what he meant, because I had never told anyone about my ideas and thoughts, other than his sister one time after I had a huge arguement with my parents and I wanted to cut myself.. but at the same time I knew it wasnt a good idea so I txted her and told her, and she was able to help calm me down enought to think clearly.

He still continued to stare me in the eyes and said it agian.. but this time with more force behind it as well as with a more gentle tone. That is when I broke down in front of someone for the very first time... 

I remember feeling weak, and vulnerable.. I tried pushing him away, but instead he just yanked me into a hug and told me that it was going to be ok.

He never asked me to tell him what bothered me, what he was always sure to make it known that he would be my big brother when I needed him.

and because of him and his sister I their family grew to accept me as one of their own children.

I had a second family, and this family was less toxic and they appreciated me as I was.

On my 12th birthday I wanted a small party, because my bestfriend had one for hers the few moths before and I thought it would be a good idea.

My Dad on the other hand blew it all out of porportion and gave me a down dogging lecture about how I dont need friends and I dont deserve a party because my grades where barely passing as well as the fact that I was still lacking on chores.

I was devestated... all I could think about was all those years of emotional and mental abuse from them, was because he did not want to believe I was his daughter, and because my mother blamed me for their poverty as parents...

My mind raced and I my angered rised... I was so angry that I started to verbally attack my Dad and scream at him, calling him names that any decetly raised 12 year old should never use.

I was slapped and sent to my room after and hour of agruing back and forth with him... and that was when I learned to never speak up agaisnt my parents again...

I kept my mouth shut.. and I only ate when food was given to me.. and when it was given to me at home, I ate as much as I could...

I gained the weight fast, and I puberty was not any help at all.

My deppession worsend.. but I started to become good at masking it. I taught myself to cry in the bathrooms at school when I knew I was alone, in the shower at home because I couldn't feel my tears in the water, and when I was alone in my room laying down to sleep.

but the crying eventually stopped because I was no longer able to cry anymore without feeling as though it was useless.

I decided to mask my deppresion with jokes and funny stories about the kids at school.. I would ramble all day at my family about school so that they wouldnt yell at me and so that they wouldn't see me crying inside.

I went 8 more years this way... and I never showed anyone my weak side, other my bestfriend and her brother... any one else may have been able to uncover little things about me, and possibly try to help me out where they could.. but I always evnetually pushed them away...

~ The feeling of being alone for too long can become comfortable, but once you try to not be alone... you still try to push them away so that you can remain comfortable.

but I also learned that feeling alone harms you more... becuase my big brother became alone at the age of 16 and he was alone for 4 years... before I lost him through suicide..

the very thing he stopped me from even making a plan to attempt... he committed and ever since then.. I have felt alone all over again...

Now here I am here my very first time reaching out for some one to listen to me agian in a very long time...

I dont ask for pity, or for any one to make me a priority... but I did make this account in hopes to be heard and without judgement and without hate.

thank you to those who have read my story all the way through.