Now more than ever, people are finding common ground on one of the most scary balancing acts that makes up some peoples entire lives: anxiety.
With the economic downturn that has pretty much unfolded through out my life, their are so many reasons to be worried about what tomorrow might bring. However, that isn't what brought my fear into my life. I can never say I lay in bed at night wondering where my next meal would come from or if I would have a roof over my head the next day. In that sense in life, I have always been blessed. However, that is what created that feeling of being trapped: I didn't want to stay under the roof I was given.
When I came into the world a huge 10 lb baby, my mum was so happy to greet me and to love me. I had a caring big sister who attempted to change my diapers at age 3 and more than supportive grandparents that lived in another state. They came to visit me after I was born. I was clearly celebrated.
One person was however not as happy about my coming to the world: my dad. I have accumulated this information since he is the only one not pictured in any of my infant photos and never was until I was about 2. He had also reminded me almost every day of my upbringing that he wished I "would have never been born".
Without getting into much detail, my dad went on to abuse me physically, emotionally, and sexually from around 2 years old. I have a very vivid memory of these events. Every yell, every manipulate threat, every weary stare. Everything.
Being the youngest of the two, I was dubbed "Daddies girl" and I couldn't have been more afraid of the image. That meant I had to know that he liked 4 spendas in his coffee with the thermos turned to the right for his hand to fit to, how he liked his shirts creased perfectly down the sides, how he liked to be bragged about in certain ways. Every day was spent much like Ann Hathaways character in The Devil Wears Prada, faffing around trying to make everything for this person as perfect as possible to minimize your own punishment. How I loate that film.
Doing so for so many years started to really take its toll around age 11. I started having crying spells and panic attacks. My mum brought me to my family doctor who told me to go to therapy. However I never told anyone about the abuse that was going on at home between him and myself or him and my mum or sister. He had instucted me not to, so I obeyed. They couldn't find any reason as to why I would feel this way and told my mum it was probably just a phase…
As it did proceed to get worse and worse, I stopped playing into my dads game as much as the toll was too much for me to manage. I watched him slowly loose his mind more and more. He couldn't handle me feeling this way. That is when I noticed he was clearly the cause for my stress. I immediately started thinking of an evacuation plan.
With letting family members know about the abuse, my entire family was set free from it 4 years ago. My dad now has no rights to anything in my life and lives states away by himself. However, I carry the weight of everything that happened to me everyday. I now have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and anxiety that used to be more than out of control. However, I find ways to manage and love my life and I do 🙂 I am now in school to be a preschool teacher and I am an art, photography, music, and clothing nerd and so proud.
You see, life isn't meant for us to be Ann Hathaways. Were supposed to bee free birds without weights to hold us back. Lets all be supportive to eachother and the battle against this horrible, underrated problem. Consider me your friend, we will get through this together 🙂