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Post by Crimson on Jan 30, 2019 10:43:51 GMT -4
Hey everyone! Where I'm from, today is a day called "Let's Talk Day". It is an open discussion day sponsored by Bell Canada in an effort to bring awareness of Depression and Anxiety. Every year I try to bring this discussion to my boards and spread that awareness, give people a chance to talk about what has impacted their mental health in their lives. Keep in mind this is a JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE, I don't want to see anyone putting down someone else for anything posted here. If you do, I swear to god I will come down hard on you. Everyone is entitled to their feelings and their struggles, and it does everyone some good to talk about them. Without further ado, here is my blurb on the subject, copied over from my Facebook account:
I'm a huge supporter for Bell let's Talk Day! Which is today, yay!
My message from last year really hasn't changed much at all, but I'm glad to share my struggles with everyone again.
For many many years I've suffered through extreme anxiety and depression, and there's never been one sole reason. Sometimes I'll feel like absolute shit for absolutely no reason at all, and you know what? There doesn't need to be a reason for you to feel the way you do.
Growing up, I went through a lot, and I mean a lot of bullying, to the point I've been punched in the face in grade school, and (attempted  ) to beat me up in Highschool. These factors have had a huge factor to my mental health and self confidence. To this day I still cannot look at a picture of myself and be happy, when I look in the mirror, I always hate what I see... However, those things are skin deep. While I don't like the way I look, I'm learning to accept it. While I don't like the way I think, I'm learning to deal with that.
As an adult, I've had many struggles with infertility. My first pregnancy was an absolute blessing, a joy that made me so happy I could forget all of those things affecting me. In the end, I lost that pregnancy early on and it had to be one of the hardest things I've ever had to deal with. After that, I got pregnant with Luke and my anxiety just sky rocketted for the duration of that pregnancy. Thankfully, we are now blessed with an amazing little boy who is able to bring that much more light to my life.
After Luke however, I've lost another 5 pregnancies, and my mental state has never been hit harder. Now not only do I have no confidence in myself, I've felt like a complete and total failure because of this. Yes, these factors still bother me to this day, but nowhere near to the same scale it did only a year ago.
The true factor that tipped my decision towards seeking help was a simple one. Every day when I would drive to work, I would drive by the Ottawa River on HWY 17, and the highway gets really close. I would be bringing Luke to Shannons at that point, and I would look over and catch myself thinking of the absolute worst case scenarios. What if I got into a car crash and went over the railing and into the river? What would be the best course of action? I would have to remove the headrest from my passenger side seat, I would have to get Luke safely out of his carseat and find a way to the surface. This obviously never happened, but the thoughts made the possibility feel extremely real.
I finally decided to approach my family doctor with these feeling, with my history and she didn't hesitate. She suggested meditation as well as various ways I could deal with my anxiety, but never once refused to give me the medication I needed.
I was on Escitalopram for about a year every single day. A low dose, but it was just enough to snap by brain out of it. I wasn't thinking of the worst case scenarios anymore, I wasn't afraid of every little thing. The past is still there, it is what it is, but with the help of this drug I've been able to set myself right.
I now only take Escitalopram about 1 week a month whenever my anxiety gets really bad, but for the most part I am feeling much much better. I can see things without facing the worst case scenarios, I still feel like myself, more like myself than I've felt in a long long time.
Moral of my story, if something feels wrong, don't assume it's normal. If you see a situation one way, and other people don't, that doesn't make you wrong. You need to trust your feelings. Don't be afraid to reach out for help, whether that be talking to friends and family about whats bugging you, or your family doctor who can prescribe medication to help you. There is NO shame in taking medication or seeking help from people, none at all.
If any of my friends and family are going through anything like this, I want you to know that I am here to listen. You want to have a cup of coffee and talk about it? Absolutely I will make time for you. You want to just come sit and watch netflix and say nothing? I'll do that too, my couch is your couch.
I know what it's like, and I'm here for you 
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Post by Perry Possum on Jan 30, 2019 11:59:09 GMT -4
We had allot of problems even at a young age, My brother I think had allot of problems with our dad too but given we had a eight yer difference in age he had moved out at eighteen I was never fully sure. But our dad always had a way of getting mad and verbally violent or rarely physical but I always just figured that was normal even when I felt scared of him now and again if not resentment as well at times later in life now. Things could go from a great day to awful in a instant for simple not realizing he wanted help with something or just figuring things out immediately on your own even from a rather young age. Feeling often like a failure or being told I was. My mother usually just timid and overly quiet or shy with trouble with her emotions given she had to deal with it as well just as much as we did. I'd be paranoid even at a young age about doing something wrong, messing up on small things or work given even at a rather small age we had to help work at construction jobs picking up stray roofing or moving materials. Made to feel weak when even as a young kid unable to life or do things that would have required the strength of one much older. Often it was simply this had to be done and if it couldn't be for whatever reason it was our fault. I'd feel paranoid allot and things that felt like whispers in my head about what not to do or worried I'd mess something up or get in trouble. Given I was also very hyper and prone to mood swings as a child and later too. I tended to miss step a bit now and again. In school from a small age to later years I'd just feel a race of whispers in my head and I'd dwell on any thing I did wrong or anything people said. A few fights as well some coming out on my side sometimes not. But from a small child into teens just feeling empty most of the time or dealing with troubles of keeping up and other family problems I often just ended up trying to throw myself into hobbies to keep myself distracted anytime time I had free time. Just so long as I didn't have to see in silence and thing and let things creep in my head. For awhile I felt hollow and just void of any emotion as well allot. There would be times I'd use cutting or burning myself to have some feeling or not feel stuck in a hole I often felt trapped in. Always the worst feelings being either stuck on a rush where my mood swings would throw me in quick snaps of emotions. Either a tiny thing triggering me to 100% anger or a small bit of fun sending me racing on a hyperactive rush, Sometimes talking at a mile a minute impossible to understand, Or a small mistake or problem that normally shouldn't bother me at all just taking everything out of me. I at one point dropped out cause of how miserable I was and had for years when days were at their worse forced myself to become sick to leave and also not have to deal with people when I was home. Relationships often never ended well either and came with their own set of drama from my problems sometimes not as well as being stolen from before in such things x-x I had a few friends during and after high school I mostly kept in contact small circles but a few that seem to understand. Allot of the worst times though simply had been always unable to control myself when I'd fly off in one direction or another in random emotions as if stuck for the ride and just moving purely on impulse whether it be a good or bad emotion or. sensation. Being in a class or crowds or even sometimes just near a small few people having thoughts rushing through your head like whispers and a intense sensation under your skin wanting to just get far away or talk to people as fast as you could and get out of there. At times when alone I'd just find myself stuck in bed for days unable to sleep or sleeping for all the free time I had even putting off eating at times for long periods of time. The only time getting up when I knew I had to or for work. The first time I tried to explain things to my parents I was either told things that it was things everyone dealt with or when it came to suicidal thoughts that popped up more and more growing up I was told to man up about it or how that was the pussy way of looking at things. Plans never brought to execution. We never had the money to visit therapists or medication beyond a brief two or three visits when I was young. I took some medicine for being hyper though that just made me feel like a zombie. But when I became more independent later in life and was able to get insurance of my own I was able to talk about my problems and sensations in my head. The dwelling and voices that make me feel useless or as if I don't want to live for sometimes out of nowhere. Allot of the problems and the past I don't know how or simple don't want to explain well so I imagine most of what I said won't paint much of the full image. Given theres other stuff I'd rather not share as well. But at least about if I had to put a number on it days are about 50% better then they once were. An sometimes just a little bit is enough. A 'normal' day and just feeling normal without any problems of that sort popping up is the best. And to help with that. I take a few medicines such as. Bupropion, to help wake up and stay awake and try and work my way though actually getting out of bed and getting moving. Buspirone, to help with dealing with people and the anxiety whispers in public. Or just being out for the day when I need to get things done and not feeling like everything is gonna explode just being around people or even out in public at all. Sertraline, To help with the depression in some aspects and help with a bit more directly for that purpose. Quetiapine, For the the mood swings and difficulty controlling the Bi polar and manic episodes I deal with at least to some extent. As well as the whispers and other problems with what I feel in my head or try and convince myself about things at least. >.> I guess if I had anything to say to someone with problems of suicidal thoughts or planning, being bi polar, or manic depressive, Would be don't be afraid to seek help and you don't have to feel weak asking for help. <.< It doesn't make you weak cause people don't understand and some people think 'manning up' is the only answer. >.> The answer is different for everyone when it comes to mental help but you should always ask and find out what help works for you with the aid of a professional. <.< Family and friends can be support but at times as I've stated in what I said not always. But a professional is there for the reason of helping and educated as well to find whats ailing you and how to fix it. Even if it doesn't all get better asking a doctor and figuring out what to do and only getting a little better a day can make all the difference. |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2019 11:59:47 GMT -4
Hi! This is something I had no idea was even a thing until now, but this sounds like something wonderful, and I would love to be a part of it. As I sit here typing this, I have absolutely no idea what words to put down. I guess I'll just have to wing it and hope for the best.
For as long as I can remember, I've always felt ...well I guess down would be the correct term to use here? I don't know. I wouldn't go so far as to say I've been depressed from the very start of my life, since I do remember being happy (or close to it) at one point. I was just a kid. One with no idea what the hell I'd do with my life, but one with a glimmer of optimism.
But I was also incredibly shy. I remember not wanting to talk, approach, or even look at the other kids in my class. It wasn't that I was antisocial. I'm not, seeing as I generally don't have any problems talking to people once I'm there. It was getting there to begin with that was the problem. I wanted to socialize. I wanted friends. So one day, I finally worked up all the courage I had, walked up to a classmate, and said hi.
Then it turns out that that kid I said hi to was a bully. And then I became one of his favorite people to bully. Welp.
It was not too bad at first, since my family usually moved to a new neighborhood almost every year or two. So I would not have to see that rude kid again. New neighborhood, new people to talk with, maybe someone who would want to be my friend?
Nope, more bullies. WELP
It's easy to see why I began to lose hope. It seemed that, no matter what neighborhood I decided to move to, no matter how far away I was from the bullying, it seemed as though nobody was willing to extend the hand of friendship. At least, not towards me. If I wasn't being picked on, called names, bullied, or any of that crap, then I was being ignored. Nobody wanted to be friends with that weird kid, that dumb loser nerd.
You know how a caterpillar eventually becomes a pupa and then some time later a butterfly? I felt like a caterpillar that was stuck in its pupa stage. I felt discouraged every time I tried to be kind and reach out to people to find others to talk to and befriend, only to get rejected time and time again. I began to try less and less to reach out and talk to people, until I reached a point where I just gave up altogether. Why bother socializing with others if they would just either ignore me, mock me, bully me, threaten to punch me, etc.? I just decided to isolate myself from everyone else. A caterpillar inside a cocoon who did not want to come out into the world just to be hurt again and again. I would not get to become a butterfly, and no one cared. So why should I care?
I did okay, for a while. Throughout high school, not many people bothered me. There was the occasional asshole, but overall, not as terrible as elementary and especially middle school was. I stopped trying to make friends or talk to anyone outside my family. I just kept to myself, my family, and my video games. Because why bother with anything else if it would just lead to pain and tears? I just bottled up my emotions and kept to myself, even lying to my family about how I was truly feeling so as not to worry them.
Of course, bottling up everything was a terrible idea. Things just keep on building up more and more, with no way to vent, no way to blow off steam. If you keep that pressure built up and refuse to let it escape the bottle, then that bottle will eventually rupture and burst.
Keeping things to myself, not wanting to be anywhere near strangers, and not talking to my family about the worsening feelings of depression, anxiety, lack of self-esteem, and sometimes dark thoughts that would find its way into my head, it all made everything far worse.
Seeing as everything I typed up has been all gloomy and shit, let's bring up a more positive thing for a change. One day, I was bored af. Sad, lonely, all that stuff. With nothing better to do, I went to the usual Pokemon sites. I then stumbled across a certain forum. Enjoying the various posts and stories I read on that forum, I decided to join, because why the hell not? I wasn't expecting much. Hell, I was probably going to see the usual assholes and bullies on this forum.
So when I instead found some of the kindest, wholesome, and understanding people I've ever seen in my life, I was mind blown. Holy shit, there are actually people outside of my family that aren't horrible shits? Of course, depression's hold on me was still as strong as it had always been. But for once, I was able to tolerate it. For once, there were people outside of my family I actually cared about. For once, there were people outside of my family who actually cared about me of all people.
For once, I had friends. Ones I still love and cherish to this very day.
And then sometime after my friends and I moved on to Discord, I continued to find and make even more friends. All of these people on the internet whose names and faces I don't even know for the most part. I have had far more happiness from them than I have ever gotten from anyone irl. I may have given up on trying to socialize with people irl, but it didn't matter. Because I had made so many wonderful friends online.
And then one of my wonderful friends helped me discover my love for RP by bringing me here to True Path, where I've been posting ever since. And that pretty much brings this story to the present.
Now I'm not gonna lie. Even with the happiness I recently felt and the wonderful friends I made in the past few years, I'm still depressed. I still get anxious all the time. I still have feelings of isolation and wanting to just be left alone to wallow in my misery. I still have no confidence in myself. I'm still too shy to approach anyone irl in fear of getting hurt for like the thousandth time. And I still sometimes wonder if I'm better off disappearing so I can stop being a burden to everyone I love and care about.
And you know what? That's okay. Happiness is not something I think happens right away. It's something you slowly build your way up to. And it's not something you need or have to do alone. I'm not alone. I have the love and support of my wonderful family and my equally wonderful friends (even if all my friends are online). Day by day, I get a little better. Despite always feeling shitty, I have people to help me make it to the next day. I'm not alone after all.
And you don't have to be alone either. There are people who love and care about you. And if there aren't, then there will be. Just keep looking inside this humongous pile of shit we call Earth, and I promise you that with enough searching and digging, you WILL find diamonds. You'll find people who will love you, care about you, support you, be there in your time of need. I mean, if there are people who would show love, kindness, and care to a nobody like me, then you'll have no problem either.
No one should ever have to face something as big as depression and anxiety alone. I know I suck with words and I'm horrible with voicing my thoughts, but hopefully I did an adequate enough job of getting the message through. And if I haven't, then let me try again. This time, with two simple sentences:
No matter how tough things get, no matter how bad it is, you are never alone. Reach out, and people will extend a hand to help you.
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Post by Dessen on Jan 30, 2019 20:29:36 GMT -4
I wanna start off by saying thanks to y'all for sharing your thoughts and feelings. It's...really hard to express yourself in this day and age without being criticized(especially in America) so thank you very much.
So, ever since I was young I idolized my father. He was always smiling and always laughing. He was there for whoever needed a shoulder to cry on and, even though he had little in terms of money, he made sure that we were fed properly and taken care of. A typical hard working man that told me that it was okay to cry and okay to be who I was. Even at an early age, he told me if I was gay that I didn't have to hide it, though that never had to be addressed. It was just who he was. How progressive and caring...which was why it was so difficult when we found out he was diagnosed as a diabetic. He loved to eat sweets and drink alcohol, as well as sodas on a regular basis. I thought it would break him, but he kept smiling and joking in his typical sarcastic tone.
When I was about 16, I was pulled from class and taken straight to the hospital by my neighbor. They didn't say anything, even though I kept asking what was wrong. It was then that I found my entire family...Mom, cousins, aunts, and uncles all standing outside a hospital room. I saw my dad laying in a bed and my Mom telling me that he was dead. He secretly had stopped taking his insulin for days and I was too busy with school and work to notice that he was suffering. He suffered from depression because he couldn't do what he wanted to do. Eyesight going meant he couldn't play his games and being unable to eat what he wanted.
The thing is that he did mention these things to Mom and I, but we didn't listen. I claim it's because I was too busy, but I'm not too sure. I just assumed that he was complaining for the sake of it, but no. He was hurting and broken because of depression, but he kept smiling and laughing because he didn't want his friends and family to worry for him. In the end, he killed himself because of this. For the longest time, I was broken. I suffered from a deep depression because I lost the most important person in my life. I took my anger out on people at school, I hurt those who didn't deserve it. I even have a couple of missing teeth from some particularly violent days. I even eventually dropped out. I didn't want to hurt anyone, but I was so angry. Anger and sadness almost led me to take my own life at one point. I thought I was a monster. But then someone noticed how angry I was and soon became my best friend for life. He taught me to smile again and helped push me to get my GED and eventually get a college diploma. I will never forget him, even though he lives in a different state. The point is that a complete stranger saw how affected I was and gathered a bunch of his friends together, following me home to take me out for a night of fun...eventually welcoming me into their group. Hell, he's even the reason I got my first girlfriend. But that's neither here nor there. I allowed myself to open up to more people and talked with my family more.
I've seen darkness and I've seen intense anger/rage. Being able to truly smile and be happy requires seeing how ugly life can be, especially first hand. When I tell someone that I love them, it isn't a default response or just a nice way to see farewell. I love you means I love you from the bottom of my heart. Turning something ugly into something beautiful is organic art and something that is difficult to do. But it can be done. I practice every day! It's why I aim to be a good person because I never want to hurt someone, whether it be physical or mental.
Today I am surrounded by friends and family who make me laugh and smile on a regular basis and I am truly blessed. I particularly love my Mom, a very special girl, and a very special person that is close to my heart. Being alone sucks, so never go through life alone. A big takeaway from this(I'm sorry if it's kind of a rant) is that depression is not obvious. Someone who looks like their are happy...may not be so happy. They might be covering it up or are too worried that they will be bothering someone to tell them about it. Look at Robin Williams. Just please, if you see someone who is hurting, try to reach out to them. Or seek out a professional like a teacher, a member of law enforcement. Just anybody. Because all life is precious and we all go through tough times. But being human means that we can touch each others' hearts in ways that no other creature can. What you say and do can affect another's life in far greater meaning that you might not understand. You don't have to save the world; you just have to focus on one person. But losing my Dad has strengthened me over time. Depression has cut me once. I refuse to let it hurt me again.
Anyway, this was a bit heavier than my usual self. I just want to express how important this topic is. Thanks again for this opportunity to talk and for your listening ear. Every last one of you is simply amazing and beautiful. From the possums, the students, heroes, and villains of this site. Sword girl loves you all!^_^
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Post by Crimson on Jan 31, 2019 19:15:38 GMT -4
Might only be 3 responses so far but thanks so much you guys for opening up! =D You're all amazing people and I love to see how you've all progressed through life and the hardships you each faced. Don't give up! You're all important in your own ways ^.^
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Post by Hanako Hajimari on Feb 16, 2019 4:30:08 GMT -4
So the last couple of days, the general chat doesn't make me happy and I don't want to blame anyone but my overdramatically senses, I just decided to stay out of it because some comments make me very unhappy. What does this have to do with a discussion on depression and anxiety? I would say I am a depression sorta survivor as I am doing relatively better now than four years ago.
Four years ago I left for six months to South Africa, I lived with eleven people in one house, they were already together as a group and I was the last one to arrive, hello number twelve, not necessary to actually meet or ask to go on to things. They went out basically from Thursday to Sunday and leave every lights on (we had to pay for it in a pre-paid sorta way) and the floor was sticky of all the beer. We did not connect very well.
I promised to go out with them once, on Kingsday night, which is a Dutch Holiday (half of my house was Dutch) but I had a panic attack the night right before we were leaving. I was in the shower and I felt his hands everywhere. Three months prior to leaving one of my best friends a guy, broke up with his girlfriend of three years, I hurried over to come and support him through this period as he did not understand why they had to break up and could not even tell me how because it had gone so strange. At some random point when we went to his room to watch a movie, he went to kiss me, I had always had a crush on him but never told him as he had always another girlfriend that were absolutely different than I was. Though even if I wanted him to kiss me, it took me seconds to react because he just had a breakup, I did not want this. He kept kissing, he kept moving his hands on my breast and between my legs before I finally kicked him away and demanded him to take me back to the train station so I could go home.
Back on the train, I did something that I hate to do in public: I cried. Everyone watched, nobody did or said a thing but staring at me with eyes that did not know what happened. I felt vulnerable, naked and betrayed. At that point, the only guy that I allowed close was my dad, the person who did not tell me: I told you so like my mom would have said.
That's not all, the guy texted me never saying he was sorry but he did ask me how I was doing, I said I was not fine and that I would rather not speak to him at some point. Two weeks later I went to Strasbourg for school, keeping myself distant from my lovely classmates because my brain could not make a point, apart from my parents I did not dare to tell anyone because I thought that I would be an attention-seeker between those who were raped, I was nothing, I had my pants on still, I was fine. Two weeks after that I got a text message from him stating that it had gone too soon and that he did not know if he liked me like that. Even if the past few days had made me sad and used, I felt a surge of rage and texted him that it wasn't me who jumped onto him, it was the other way around and that I only came to get him through a day of the breakup, I did not attempt sex on my best friend who was heartbroken. Only making me realize that he did not think I was pretty, that he did not want me specifically, I was just a rebound, a woman, an object of sex and nothing else, no name, no face, nothing that mattered. Am I over this problem? No.
No, I even noticed this week that it might be a bigger problem, where I have had no panic attack in four years it happened two weeks ago again. One of my so-called friends wants me less prudish, sends me funny sexual text and I could feel it all again. He knows this happened more or less because I told him when he asked me why I was prudish, he found it funny to make me un-prudish.
I have never been skinny, I have been asked twice in my life when the baby was due and how I would combine a baby with my studies. I am not pregnant, I have never been pregnant, but the only fat I have is exactly there where a baby bump would be. I had skinny friends so I kept feeling bad about myself, of course, boys would pick a girl like them over someone like me, always, every time. I was bullied in high school, not because of the pimples I had or because I was fat, I was just not the right person at the right time. I was in a girl clique until the new girls came from another class and suddenly they were six and I was the odd one out. One of those girls, later on, went to date my best friend's elder brother, my brother's best friend. When asked if she could come over at MY house, we refused, they did not understand. So I lost my best friend at the age of 18 because of that, my brother lost his best friend because he did not understand and my mom lost her best friend as that was their mother. It felt not fair how she had them and we did not but I wanted to feel safe at home, this is my home, not theirs so it would not be fair, they just used to hang out with the boys here a lot because of space. I was unheard, no one asked my opinion at that short period because I was away from my home as I was with my dad (who divorced my mom when I was five). Even losing my former best friend and being bullied in year 1 till 3, I made great friends in the last 2 years. With ups and downs but that's normal, I met the guy who would be my boyfriend in 2015, three years after graduating high school. I fell in love with him at the end of high school, I told him, he rather wanted to stay friends. I found it difficult to get over him but I tried my best. Leaving to South Africa was an idea to get away from him after three years of an unanswered crush and to get out. He suddenly skyped me, missing me and we decided to try a relationship when I get back. A hard two months considering I didn't like the people I lived with and I just wanted to be home in general. He came to pick me up at the airport with my parents and (half)siblings. He organized a surprise party with my friends back home with my mom. He was at that point the sweetest. Until I went to live with him half a year later, I had no good relation with my mom and he lived on his own, it was easy and we would be able to be together more. He wanted me to change mentally, he said I was too negative all the time, we had a lot of fights because of that because he did not communicate at the moment of the problem but 3 weeks or even longer later. I got ill, for nine months I puked out every meal, again they thought I was pregnant, but nothing for obvious reasons. He was supportive when others asked, not to me. If I had spit out every drop of food I tried to eat, he demanded me to go to the supermarket with him to pick up food that I did not want to smell or see, he did not understand when I refused. I could barely stand as I could not keep much food inside to even have the energy, I slept most of the day. why did I not cook food for him when I was home, why did I not clean the house, why did I not do anything? Shouldn't I work on my graduation, shouldn't I try to finish my thesis? When we broke up after a fight, he was nice to me, said I wasn't worth his strange behaviour and I should absolutely get better. Two days later he texted all our mutual friends about how such a bitch I was and a hypocrite and everything badly. I fought very hard, got surprisingly or miraculously better when I left his side within a week, no cure, no medication, nothing. It just stopped, I had just ignored my body telling me the stress and the pain for nine months. I regret that. He is now dating one of the girls who dared to call me her friend. Again I feel betrayed as I do by many but I am not brave enough to say goodbye and leave them as I believe I would have no friends left.
My depression was very vivid during my relationship with him, I wanted to no longer live but that wasn't possible as I got the guy of my dreams, I was graduating, why was it so hard to be happy? When we broke up, I told my mom very bravely that I did not want to live on, because there was no meaning for this, the future looked bleak with every problem that I had in mind, not him, he was not part of that list, my mom and I made a deal to wait six months and she would do everything to help. We waited another three months and I don't want to disappoint her and just don't look too far into the future, time will tell. My mom and I are now very close, I tell her everything and she tries to listen and help and think and understand. We are mostly the same in our thoughts, that had not always been the same when she had a boyfriend when I was 13 who stayed until I was 17, they were in a bad relationship, he did mentally abuse her, took all her money and was not nice to us. He wanted my brother out of the house so he had more space and manipulated me with my stepmom to go and live with my father, which I instantly regretted but I could not go home. When I went shopping at the age of fourteen, I bought my first pair of high heels, my mom called me a whore, said I should live with my dad. She still doesn't know what the surge of rage came from but she still regrets it, if the word is said by someone else on the television, I see her eyes shoot towards me to see my reaction. I don't blame her, I blame him but that doesn't change the fact that it was said. I was the bad girl and yet he has no longer contact with his children and I am not surprised. He used and abused my mother and I am glad she is single because I don't dare to trust anyone else outside the circle of my mother and my brother.
So jokes about whores make me sad, it's not funny. It's not a fun word and even if you say it as a joke, it's not a joke. If someone says as a joke that I am not nice or am mean, I think I am and that it is my fault, that I end up alone because I am not nice. I will not mind talking to people, I don't hate or begrudge anyone but I can't stand those jokes in the general chat and now you know why.
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) to beat me up in Highschool. These factors have had a huge factor to my mental health and self confidence. To this day I still cannot look at a picture of myself and be happy, when I look in the mirror, I always hate what I see... However, those things are skin deep. While I don't like the way I look, I'm learning to accept it. While I don't like the way I think, I'm learning to deal with that.
