learning to be who i really am.

Hi, i just want to apologize ahead of time for any spelling errors. I am not a simple person. I beleive that no person truely is. There has been a lot of hardship and struggle in my short eighteen years on this earth, but they made me who i am and i appreciate every single thing that has happened to me and my family. They made me kind and caring. They made me empathetic. They helped me to be a better person, a more understanding person. Though it hurts at first, you learn to use these experiences to grow. I grew up in a physically abusive home under a religious cult. I dont remember a lot of this time, and honestly i dont want to. i have a few flash memories, but i like to ignore them. By the time i was 10 my mom had devorced my dad and we were living in an apartment. He lived in the same complex and got us every other day. He no longer physically abused us, but he was a hurt man. The year i turned 11 my mother took us and moved to Minnesota with the permission of our father. We moved in with a man we had never met. I didnt know what would happen to us. I was scared. He is a great guy. He gave us everything we ever needed. He treated my mom like aqueen for the first time in her life.She was a new person and so were we. i started school later that year. I was the weird religious kid. I made a few freinds, but no strong friendships came out of 5th grade. In 6th grade my mom herniated a disk in her back. she almost instantly became a different person. She abused perscription narcotics and i saw the light from her eyes leave her. Of coarse i didnt know it at the time, but she was visibly different. She wouldnt play with her children anymore. There were times when i didnt see her for days at a time. It was hard. Theater and acting had entered my life by now, but i never got anything out of it, though it was fun. 7th and 8th grade were about the same. I was bullied pretty bad throughout middleschool and highschool. Around the end of 8th grade i had deveopled bulimia. This was the hardest thing i have ever gome through. I was recovering during the begining of 9th grade. I started to make a few friends, but nothing serious ever came out of this. I took health class in 9th grade and sex ed. I discovered around that time that i didnt like boys. My little highschool brain somehow interperated this as being asexual. The idea of liking girls being a thing didnt apply to me for some reason, yet. I thought i was broken. I also joined choir around this time and descovered a deep passion for music. So now, alone and afriad, i had something i could turn to. It would never leave me the way everyone else in my life had, and i was really good at it. it was the only thing i was good at. the end of my 10th grade year, during that summer i auditioned for footloose in my local theater and made it in as a background singer for rusty. i was so extatic. we started rehersals and everything was going smoothly, until i noticed a slight pain in the side of my throat. i ignored it  until i went to see an ENT doctor. he told me that i had a vocal ulcer and that i would have to not rehearse with everyone. i did vocal lessons with a speach pathologist that specialized in opera, and it seems like i was getting better. 11th grade rolls around and the show goes smoothly. i once again join choir and notice the pain again, but this time it was much worse. my vocal talent started to deteriorate. I went three weeks withought being able to talk, and i will never be able to sing as well as i used too. i visited the ENT angain andhe told me that my condition is a reoccuring one and there is no telling when it will happen. there is no cure and you can have surgery to remove one, but it might come back. junior year i became a truent and i was deeply depressed. i had been cutting myself for about a year. i was having flashblacks. my mom kicked me out last summer. I had to live with my dad. he was a changed man by now, but it still was uncomfortable. i dropped out of highschool in december. i was fee. it was one of the best and worse feelings of my life.i also around this time dicovered that i was actually gay. like flaming gay. so gay that it hurt. I guess what i am trying to say here is at one point in time i had lost everything that gave me joy. everything, but no matter what happened to me, i didnt give up. i am still here, still fighting. if i haa listened to myself one time in any of those situations i wouldnt have been here to tell my story to you. for the first time in a long time i am just starting to love myself. i am hapy with who i am. you can make it through thesetimes. just dont give up. someday someone might benifit from your story. one day you wont be alone. one day you will beat your troubles into the ground with a skin so thick that words hit you and bounce back as kindness. one day you will be free and it will be exilorating and scary, but you can do it. believe in yourself.

User Comments
Anon-1

Believing in yourself is important. What a great way to close! Thank you for sharing your story :)