I’m a nobody, really. Just a blip on the radar, a small voice calling out through the vastness of cyberspace. In the grand scheme of things, my life matters little. But to me, well, it’s all I have, so this little life is fairly significant from my perspective. And it hasn’t been an easy one to survive. In fact, it’s been pretty darned hard and it’s still a struggle to get through the day most days.
I am a perfect example of what happens to people when most everything in life goes wrong.
I was badly abused as a child by both of my parents. Because of this, I grew up in a nightmare of darkness, terror, insecurity, confusion and pain. They wounded me deeply and significantly in ways I’m still trying to uncover and understand. I have never fully recovered.
I then married a man I loved with all of my heart and I thought things were finally turning around. But shortly after we married, he told me he didn’t love me. He told me this for 22 years (yes, I was STUPID to stay, but I’m nothing if not loyal and tenacious!). Then he left me when he fell in love with another woman. I’ve not fully recovered from his rejection and disdain either.
I’ve crashed and burned more times than I like to admit. The story I’ve written in life has not been pretty or lovely.
I’ve struggled greatly with depression and most of the time, I think the depression has won. Medication doesn’t help in my case, so I have to force myself to keep walking in spite of wanting to lay down and quit. I force myself All. The. Time. No wonder I’m tired. Tired in ways that sleep can’t cure.
I have also struggled with an eating disorder. Struggle with it to this day. Like to think of myself as a late bloomer…who said young girls are the only ones who keep the company of ED. My first encounter with anorexia was in my late 20’s and early 30’s. Getting dumped by my ex seemed to set off another round (and no, I’m not going to tell you how old I am now…I’m OLD). While I’m a little more successful in not winding up in the hospital and almost dying these days, it’s still a daily battle and I have no idea how the war will end.
Additionally, to keep things interesting, self-esteem is hard to come by and I often have trouble thinking of myself as a real person. In short, I’ve been through it and I have the battle scars, if not the t-shirt, to prove it! Some people call that “baggage.” Some call it having “issues.” Others call it experience. You can decide for yourself what you want to call it. To me, it’s been hard and it’s been hell. Hell is all I have ever known, though I would like to try something else before I die, if that’s okay with everyone.
I decided it might be a good thing to have an outlet. A place where I blog about my struggles and “experiences / issues / baggage” and share thoughts and observations. So here goes nothing…or something. I’m not sure how this will turn out any more than I know the end of my story. But I’m going to write and see what happens.
Just my small voice calling out through cyberspace, as I said. Maybe someone will hear. Maybe someone will listen. Maybe I can make a tiny difference as I cast my 1’s and 0’s into the vast pool of the internet. If not, at least I’ll leave a small footprint. At least there will be a record of sorts. And in the end, I guess that’s good enough for me. I was here. Maybe it matters; maybe it doesn’t. But I was here. And I survived in spite of all the opposition and the poor odds. In spite of the pain and struggle. I was here. And this is my story.