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Us Together or Not

I am facing myself today. I am combing through my thoughts with probing intentions. This sort of thing comes by surprise for me usually, and I don’t exactly go traipsing through my thoughts. I barge into my surefire and contented mind and upturn all of my perspectives to get a different angle.

To give some history I have not been this super girl NatureSL for very long. I had a muddy past with depression, drugs, abuse and all the things that come with that. My family like many peoples families is broken. My coping mechanism is consumption of anything be it food, clothes, booze, or drugs. My womanhood like many has been taken advantage of. My confidence has been shattered, and I barely made it through. I was abused mentally and physically, but I fucking made it. Here I am past self. I lived, and unlike you thought I would be... I am happy.

Within the last year I have seen my darkest days. I decided there was nothing more I could loose, so I might as well do what I loved or die..... and believe me when I say I tried. Again, and again, and again. (It isn’t pretty, but it is true) Then I was put to the test by another bullheaded man who I worked alongside with. I left my job, and I am not looking back. I am putting my art, and my lust for nature in the forefront of my rose tinted world. I am dedicated and driven to be all that I know I can be, but sometimes my foundation feels like it’s made of jello. I feel like a fraud who doesn’t believe in god or myself. What stops me from going to the place that I have lived as long as I can remember? Who’s hand will I hold now that I’ve cast away all those that were once close to me? Am I a bad person? Am I doing the right thing?

I don’t have answers to these questions, but the time doesn’t stop flowing. My emotions never stop showing, and there isn’t an easy way out. So I face myself. I look at my distrust in others and remember the horrible things that have been done to me, but I can’t live in fear of this. I look at my distrust in myself and I hold back tears as memories of being put down or being put into mental traps and gaslit daily. I look at my meekness and wonder if the asshole who didn’t consider my needs is happy. I look at my body and remember the 70 extra pounds I used to carry along with all that baggage. These things I wish to forget, but I can’t. They are a part of me. Extra hurdles I was given to jump after I was born, and whether I like it or not I made it here.

I’m not here to tell you that a sticky note on your bathroom mirror with a positive mantra is going to fix your problems. Instead I am here to say I still struggle, and I see all of you out there struggling too. We can do this together. We can put our faces on. We can look at ourselves and give credit for growing. We can look at others and really wonder if their company is good for us, and hopefully it is. We can look at the rest of the food that didn’t get consumed to fill the void that others damage has left. We can see that we are getting better. We can keep trying. We will persevere. We will make a positive impact. We will love ourselves one day. With that notion we will feel proud. Proud to live in this diverse world where shit is fucked up and there ain’t nothing we can do about it. We will be proud that we didn’t let the guilt consume. We will proud that we don’t lay down for bullies anymore. We will be proud that we show up to therapy month after month. We will keep putting one foot in front of the other until the day we can’t anymore. We need to do it all. We need to just do the damn thing.


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