This is going to sound a little deranged but I think I partially figured out why I separate myself from people ever more when I was sick (beyond the amount I did before all this) and yet, I still struggle with how to let people back in.
My feeling where all in a disarray, both my head and heart felt airy but heavy at the same time? It’s almost like I was a grenade… or am one..I’m not quite sure about that part yet; sooner or later i was planning on completely exploding and being done with everything, life itself- finally confessing to my wallowing worst.
I’m convinced that I wanted to “minimize the casualties.” I preferred to stay away from people so whatever was going to happen to me wouldn’t hurt them as much as it potentially could have if I never disappeared.
I wanted to be extraordinary but it feels as if that has become one of the heaviest burdens because as of now, I’m nothing but sickeningly, ordinarily trapped in turbulence.
Chills up and down through my body.
The room spinning.
My heart beating faster than I can catch my breath.
I hate myself. I hate myself. I repeat as I try to gasp for a breath.
I feel the tears flow down my face.
i feel the pain rip through my heart.
One by one I see the ones I’ve hurt along the way way. They’ve come back to haunt me.
I go numb.
I think I’m dead. Finally.
I had to write this for part of my treatment, I thought hell with it… I might as well put it on my blog. (who would read this long ass thing anyway.)
Back in the day on April 25th 1994 I was born in Canada- and no I do not speak Canadian. Mum always told the story of how she thought the doctors had switched me and her ”real” daughter up on accident, because supposedly I looked a lot like an Eskimo toddler…imagine that, the total opposite of my older brother. Even if they did switch me up, I like to tell myself my parents got pretty damn lucky with me- that’s definitely just a joke. I am the one who is truly blessed to be in such a loving family and to have them as such a strong backbone.
A few years after I was born my family and I packed up to move to the states; our first stop was in New Jersey. Not to long after, we made our next trip all the way down to the south, in Alpharetta Georgia. I lived in a few different houses there but I was lucky enough to be able to grow up in what I’d call my dream home. It’s like I had a storybook childhood- the beautiful large house with the pool and trampoline in the backyard that was perfect on a sunny day; I had my three best friends (Rory, Evan and Connor) that I could not imagine living without, even up to this day. I met them when I was five and since day one we were the definition of inseparable, along with ‘troublemakers’ next to our names. I absolutely believe time flies when you are having fun, but atleast I have countless stories and memories to reminisce on with them.
Being raised by parents who were star athletes themselves, and having best friends that were only guys, I was bound to hit my tomboy stage and did that ever last a lifetime. I played every sport under the sun, but softball was the one that stole my heart. I can thank my mum for the competitive mindset and attitude that I developed over the years. The first time I stepped onto a softball field was when I was five years old, everything changed for me. It sounds cliché but its like I became a different person; nothing else crossed my mind. Right then and there I was convinced that I wanted to make it my life, paving a path for college and then having a dream career involving the sport. I played competitively up till last year, I’ll state the obvious and say it was a love/hate relationship but it was my identity wherever I went and I was perfectly okay with accepting that title. As I got older and continued to improve my skills, the competition and my commitment increased too- I played on varsity throughout high school, on top of my demanding travel teams. That’s what you have to do though when you want to become the best you can be; test your mind, body and energy. Not every season was flawless for me, and there was never a time where one of my toughest critics, who was my mum, wasn’t afraid to point that out. Being younger, I used that as my motivation- wanting so badly to impress her and gain some sort of acceptance or approval. My fear was disappointing my mum and not being able to live up to her standards, I think that’s something I still struggle with even today.
My parents became my biggest motivators. I put so much time and effort into this sport; waking up for morning workouts and then two team practices along with individual practices and training after that. Every weekend I was traveling to a tournament, I had no idea what a social life was or what a typical high school teenage life consisted of. I got knocked out of my fantasy for a little when I found out my mum was sick. It was in January of 2010, the 22nd to be exact. When I got a call at school from my dad saying he was taking mum to the emergency room, I swear I felt my heart about to burst but he said I didn’t have a thing to worry about and that they would be at my game later that night. Before the game started, I remember looking up into the stands and my parents weren’t there, that’s when it hit home, it was something worse than I thought but I’m not one to show my feelings of being scared, hurt, or broken. I got home and my dad sat me down to explain as best as he could that mum had a stroke and she shouldn’t be alive. The doctors couldn’t have done anything and had to give up themselves but my mum is one of the strongest fighters and wasn’t ready to leave for good just yet; Its truly a miracle that she pulled through. I sat there not saying a word because I knew if I tried tears would flow out of me. I managed to make it to my room before collapsing…that’s when it all hit me, and it hit me hard too. I realized if I added up all the time I invested into softball, I was missing months-shaving off peoples lives that I didn’t know how long they are going to be around for, just like my mum who was sick and I was too caught up to even notice it. I’ll admit now that it scares me a lot even though I wont express it - I was seen as the strong, unbreakable girl, how could I not live up to that. Her and my dad are the most supportive people in my life and the ones who actually love me unconditionally. I mean I know a lot of people love me and I’m certainly thankful for that but to love someone unconditionally is entirely different. A lot of guilt came up for me too, it’s like my brother was left hanging in the cold and had to live in a world that revolved around my schedule, when he was the one who needed more attention and support; he is legally blind and I cant imagine the fears and struggles he has to cope with everyday of his life. I’ve never told him, but he is someone I can really look up to and be proud to call my brother.
Like I mentioned before, one of my biggest fears is not living up to my parents expectations (especially my mum); I let that hold me back from being something that I considered great. I had the opportunity to play for the Jr. Canadian Olympic team and to also play in college but I let my fear of failure and disappointment beat me up. I used the excuse of me getting injured and being in a cast and on crutches for about eight months overpower me. I guess I used that as my escape route, even though I wanted so badly for my mum to be proud of me; its like I forgot why I started playing in the first place, nothing was fun anymore- it became a job and almost like a competition between my mum and I of who was the better athlete and the prize was bragging rights. She pushed and tried to encourage me to become better, ofcourse hurtful words were said here and there but I acted as if they didn’t phase me because I knew she was doing what was best for me…who am I kidding though, those comments have stuck with me ever since. By senior year I made some pretty enormous changes for myself; I moved to California with my parents… hoping that it would bring the change and excitement that I’d been craving for for so long. That’s also when I hung up my bat and cleats for good, leaving everything I wanted and dreamed of on the fields behind me. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about who I could have become or where I could have gone if I kept playing; plus it broke my families heart-not only were my dreams shattered but also my parents, those thirteen years of my life must seem like a waste to them.
When someone hears California, I’m sure they think of how the movies portray it; beaches, sunny days, warm nights, no worries of working or school. I’m pretty sure I was caught up in the “California Dream” myself, and I was definitely blind sided with that mindset. I was ecstatic knowing that I get to experience something brand new and I could go to a new place filled with all new faces that couldn’t judge me or see me as only an athlete. It wasn’t till I got comfortable on the plane when a flood of emotions came, realizing that I was leaving the place where I grew up, the place that made me part of who I am. A few tough, dragged out months past and I started to head downhill; I felt as if I didn’t fit in right at school, my parents were in the same situation as I was but with themselves, I mean it wasn’t a place to call home. Plus, I had no idea who I was; softball and sports always backed me up, I was so inexperienced with being a “normal” teenager in school. Don’t get me wrong, I did meet some incredible people and California is a beautiful place but it wasn’t something positive for me at the moment. My eating disorder began to creep in, all I did was exercise there- no going out, no more trying to fit in, I had given up. My parents wanted what was best for me and they moved me back to Georgia so I could graduate with the kids I grew up with; I ended up living with my old neighbors while my parents stayed in California.
With living on my own, I had to make room for a whole lot more responsibility and decisions that I would face alone. The first few weeks were great, seeing my old friends and even meeting brand new ones. The first thing that people noticed about me though was how different I looked, I had lost weight but not a dangerous amount…my eating disorder still went unnoticed though. Looking back now, I got consumed in everything that I missed out on during my senior year in California. I got sucked into the parties every weekend, a relationship that was horrible to be in and no way to get out of. I also got sucked into the disorder more and more, I used the gym as a stress reliever and something to bring me back to reality because I lost control of who I was becoming and what was going on around me. As time passed, people began to notice how much smaller I was getting, it was unhealthy but it was something I laughed off and ignored because it was how I coped with feeling abandoned (always moving, living alone, being treated horribly) I took it out on myself with not eating and exercising instead, being drowned with others thoughts of how I looked. Maybe it was the fact that I always believed that if I were thin, my life would be perfect.
The relationship that I got involved in pushed me to my limits too. It all seemed so picture perfect in the beginning, like any other relationship normally feels like. I saw him as somebody who would never, ever hurt me- and that’s what I was holding on to, someone that didn’t exist anymore. Now I can think of all the times he screwed me over, but had me believing it was always something that I’d done. He dragged me down mentally and yanked me around physically. He also did some shady things behind my back but my self confidence and self respect was non existent, I sank deeper and deeper because I felt as if I deserved it all and it was no big deal if I was hurt this way. I began to believe that nobody ever really wanted me in the first place, it was like I was just an accident- people took in out of pitty or felt obligated to. I think one of the worst feelings in the world is feeling alone, and to be quite honest, I was scared to feel it all over again. I forgave him just because I didn’t want to lose him or anyone… even though he didn’t deserve forgiveness. My whole life was turned upside down, I had a hard time coping with life and love and being lonely and watching all my friends walk away from me, even the ones I didn’t think would leave. By the time I was going to move back in with my parents, in North Carolina this time, it was all too late.
I continued my unhealthy habits and my parents were just watching me waste away. On top of it all, my dad got sick, another congested heart failure scare-it was his second time being in the hospital for that and once again the doctors were shocked and I’m sure confused to how he was even still breathing. He needed to be strong for himself but also for me because through all that I was still focused and wrapped up within my eating disorder; I felt like I couldn’t be there for him when he needed me, which is an awful feeling. I couldn’t see the endless string of consequences for myself that were a result of my actions. It’s hard to admit that I was slowly killing myself and a week or so longer, I might have been dead (that’s how sick I became but my mind was to distorted to actually believe I had a problem at all, it’s the ugly truth though.) My parents were the ones that had to get me help, because I was still planning on continuing loosing weight, being in denial should of been considered an understatement at the time. Loyalty is something I live by and look who was left standing right by my side through it all, my family. I taught myself how to become my own best friend and not trust anyone, its horrible and unhealthy in itself. I tried to tell myself that I was happy with who I was, but in reality, I hated almost everything about myself. It wasn’t just about being thin anymore; it was about hating every single part of my body. Actually, worse than that- it was hating every little thing about who I had become. I was pushing the human body to its extreme limits, I was seeing how far I could stretch my mind and body before it collapsed.
Ever since I was little, I’ve had big dreams to be successful. Out of all my friends, I was the one with a plan for my life, but now look how things turned out. While most other people my age are in school, I’m getting treatment for an eating disorder where everyday seems like a damn marathon of my life; I swear I get told “everything happens for a reason,” almost everyday, but no one has ever told me what exactly that reason is. I know I’ll probably never notice what most of them are, but even if I don’t have the power to chose what happens to me, I can still choose were I go from here and be okay with it. I don’t understand why I like to complicate things when it should all be simple; find what makes me happy and who it is that makes me happy and I should be set, right? What a journey the search for happiness has put me through.
After 12 years of rarely going a day without seeing you, a certain kind of bond builds that no one else can fully understand. We had everything from baseball/softball positions and numbers to our favorite ice cream flavor in common. Our personalities couldn’t be any more alike either, we were both so quiet and shy but once we got comfortable around whoever, our expressions changed to laughing and smiling nonstop. Our parents use to always joke with us on how we liked each other and we were going to get married when we got older. We would say that we were going to have to go to college with each other and then live together after because we didn’t think we could function right without each others company and life just isn’t as fun without the people you care about the most not around. I trusted you with everything and you were the only one I would open up to, I know you trusted me the most out of anyone. I couldn’t ask for anyone better than you to come into my life and impact it the way you have, so thank you for that.
Having to say goodbye to you and then watching you and your family drive away to start a new life up north had to be one of the hardest things for me to watch. You told me that no one would ever replace me and that I was your best friend, your “wife.” You called me all the time but as years passed we started growing apart and our conversations got shorter.
You fell in love with some girl who broke your heart in the end, just knowing you loved her and not me broke my own; guess who was on the phone with you every night listening to you vent and cry, wishing that we were both together like back before you left…yeah that was me. You know im going to always be here for you no matter how long we go without talking or getting to see each other, because I’ll probably always worry about you and want you to be happy.
Not a day goes by without me thinking about you, I mean I miss you..talking about anything, spilling out our problems. Maybe I had more feelings for you than you had for me at the time. After all these years it took me this long to figure out that maybe it wasn’t you who I fell in love with, maybe I fell in love with our friendship. You know, Im actually okay with that because i’d rather have you as my best friend than having nothing.
It kinda hurts, even though we weren’t anything special. It hurts to know that we’ve grown apart and it seems like it all went by so quickly. We were selfish to think it would never end.
By the way, you broke your promise.
I wish I could tell y’all a brief story of who this is about and why i wrote this but there is no way I could shorten it. My friend and I use to always write out our problems, and as months passed we would eventually burn what we wrote… almost like leaving it behind us, forgetting the past.
She was your ex girl and she came back out of nowhere. Probably promising you the world, and I know I can’t give you the fucking world. But I did try to make you smile, I tried to make you laugh. I thought you wouldn’t be my past.
Until I got on Facebook and saw statuses about you, now I’m mad at that girl, but before I even met you, you had a girl up at some school. You told me the reason you didn’t say the truth is cause you didn’t want me to think that was really you, or that you was a hoe. Thats cool, I understand. I mean I was the one who pretty much ended it in the past, but that didn’t mean I despised you.
So let’s fall into amnesia, don’t worry about us. Relationships ain’t shit if they never based on trust. My best friend called me on my phone asking about you, but that was way before I met the “new” you.
You went behind my back, you friended all my foes. Now you see, I could never lay with a man who has a motive, a scheme or a plan. I tried to wish you the best, but you have to know, thats not really what I meant. Now your ex girl would probably try and talk shit, acting as if she knew me. I’ll just let it go though, wishing it was you who still knew me.