I've been feeling really weird lately. Kind of like I'm disconnected from life marching on around me. In the past month or so, I have felt the sharp sting of rejection, bubbling fury, the black fingers of depression pulling me into the abyss and above all, a sense of emptiness that I feared for a while could actually consume me.
Sometimes it sucks being a complex person in a world where people like to pretend they have the answers to everything, including what ails me. I don't feel the need to be defined by anything or anyone for that matter.
So, in light of this, I'd like to introduce myself so that you can understand why I am the way I am.
If I was to describe myself in one word, I would say I'm passionate. Not in the sexual way, but just in the way I live my life. I don't do things by half and sometimes this leads to trouble... Usually for me. Sometimes for others.
I was sexually abused by a friend of a family friend when I was 8 and my life changed forever. My child's mind put that experience into a solid filing cabinet deep within my sub conscious and there it remained buried for almost 35 years.
I never told anyone about the sexual abuse. I don't know why. How does an 8 year old child find the words to tell a parent that they had been raped when the concept of sexuality is a mystery.
As a direct result of this trauma, I became very introverted, shy and at one stage suffered from agoraphobia and suffered sever panic attacks. This condition overtook me in my teens, probably the worst period in any person's life. I never sought help or told anyone because I thrived on acceptance and I feared that if people knew how pathetic and sad I was, I would be friendless for ever.
I spent my teenage years combating panic attacks and low self esteem. I believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was worthless and ugly and no one would or could ever love someone like me. These feelings helped me hone my razor sharp tongue and biting sarcasm. I hid my fears behind a mask of humor and was regarded as a funny person with biting wit and an extensive knowledge of of all things sexual.
Little did my classmates or friends know, that due to the abuse, I was terrified of men and the thought of even kissing one brought on a panic attack.
I know logically that I was perhaps not as hideously ugly as the reflection in the mirror. I had my fair share of male attention. In these instances I convinced myself that there must be something seriously wrong with the young man if he found me attractive.
And so my teenage years passed in panic and anxiety. I befriended people who quite frankly treated me like shit, mainly because I allowed them too. It was only when I was in year 11 in high school that I had the opportunity to befriend a group of girls at school who genuinely liked me.
At that point, I yearned, with every fiber of my being, to find my Prince Charming, the one man who would heal by shattered heart. But the icy fingers of fear squeezed the breath out of me every time a boy tried to talk, dance or get to know me better. I became very good at being a complete and utter bitch. "Hurt them, before they hurt me" became my philosophy. So I spent my 20's alone and miserable, praying for the right man to come along, the one who would break through the layers of protection I had put around my heart.
Throughout this entire period, I teetered towards full blown depression and then I'd swing back to being confident. Despite all of the dramas going on in my head, I held down a full time job and had a very active social life.
People who know me think I'm tough, strong, self sufficient, loud, bossy, domineering, arrogant, aggressive, annoying and probably some stronger words could be added. Sometimes it sadness me that they fail to see that sometimes I hide behind these things because it's the only way I can cope with what life has thrown at me.
The past few years have been pretty ordinary. There are moments in life when I just want to sit in a dark room and not talk to anyone. My life is so hectic and chaotic that it's very hard to shut down my mind. As hard as I try, sometimes it's easier to let the blackness swallow me for a bit so I can stop and recover.
I don't want to complain, I have a wonderful life. I have an amazing husband who loves me (although sometimes I wonder why), two amazing kids and a wonderful and diverse group of friends.
But even with the knowledge that I'm luckier than most, sometimes it's not enough to completely erase the feeling that one day someone's going to jump out and say "Ha ha. Fooled you. This is NOT your life to live"
I've managed to avoid them so far. I plan to actually evict the negative forces from my life one day soon.
