Why I am the way that I am.
If you’ve ever read my personal posts, or just want to know more about why I am the way that I am, here’s a little of my personal history. If you don’t want to read all this, you don’t have to. There is an update on my life as it is today, at the end of this post.
Let me preface this by saying that I went through extreme trauma in my childhood, which left me with emotional and mental scars that contribute to my underlying issues. In addition to this, I have never really felt like I belonged anywhere, as though I saw the world through a different lens than anyone else. I realized, not too long ago, that most people are not like me. Most people are not constantly thinking of deep issues, are not burdened by sadness, seem carefree, and don’t feel things as deeply and as powerfully as I do. Sometimes I catch myself thinking about things like I’m 50 years old—I have never been carefree or felt young without any responsibility. I’ve always felt the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I’m going to fast-forward through my dating history because only one person really plays an important role. I remember the day I noticed him. We’d been going to school together for two years before I did. We started talking and texting all the time. I think we were talking for almost a year before we made it official. We went to a small school (I had 30 kids in my graduating class), and I think we didn’t want people to make a big deal about it or something. But we got so close even before that time. I mean he was my best friend. And once we made it official, it was perfect. He came from a family of farmers, and he was a country boy. I got so close with his family, I loved them all almost as much as my own. Our dates were spent hanging out on the farm, bottle feeding calves, and just growing closer with one another. We talked about the future. We were going to go to college together, get married someday, and live happily ever after. He consumed all my thoughts, prayers, and time for almost two years.
But then my world shattered. In the several months leading up to the demise of our relationship, he got cruel, and started playing all kinds of mind games with me. I was so weak that I let him. He began pulling away, and I began panicking and throwing myself at him. Texting him all the time, becoming incredibly needy and clingy. I would get so scared that he was going to leave me, I became this pathetic mess. And I’m not proud of it. In fact, I look back on that time with shame and embarrassment. I was addicted to him, and I had withdrawals when he took himself away. I couldn’t think about anyone or anything else, I made my family crazy. My mom never told me what to do otherwise, probably because I’d made it very clear that I was going to do whatever it took to be with him, but I think she was ashamed at how little I respected myself. One night, he broke up with me, and was completely callous about it. Later on, I found out that he had gotten together with one of my friends while we were together.
Getting dumped was probably the worst pain I’ve ever gone through. I think I’m still working through getting completely over it. I’ve never been that absolutely miserable in my whole life. I put all my hopes and all my dreams and my identity into a person and a relationship. No one is perfect. No one person can hold your entire world, because no one is up to the task.
I went through a few guys, never really making that emotional connection, but really just wanting someone to hold me and make me feel better. And I looked for him in every guy. I tried to fit these guys in to the hole now created in my life, and no one matched. It was rough. I ended up being even more depressed, but stuck my chin out and was determined to prove to him, to my family, to the world, to myself that I was strong and didn’t need him. I thought if I just kept busy and never stopped, it’d be fine. I’d forget. When I stopped to catch my breath from the now insanity that was my life, it would all hit me like a ton of bricks. But every night I’d cry myself to sleep, listen to Miranda Lambert sing about how she didn’t need those assholes who broke her heart, and pray to be stronger, pray he’d come back, pray for something to change.
I decided, instead of staying in my home state (where I had planned to live and go to school with him), I would follow my family to Arizona. 2400 miles away. The idea of a fresh start and a brand new life sounded perfect, too good to be true. I put everything I had into working towards that goal. I applied and was accepted to the University of Arizona, which is where I am now. And the whole time, I just prayed that this was the answer, that this was God’s plan for me, and that I wasn’t making a huge mistake. I focused all of my time and energy on graduation from high school, helping my family move, and getting adjusted to the town my family now lives in, and then later on, getting adjusted to college. But I couldn’t run from my demons. It all caught up with me, and hit me hard.
To sum up my first semester: I went through two roommates, both of which stopped being my roommates for traumatic reasons, I realized that I hated my major and the goal I’d been working toward for over 3 years, and I made the mistake to date one of the worst people I’ve ever met. At first, I didn’t see what I was getting myself into. I think I was so enchanted by the idea of someone wanting me, a concept that seemed completely foreign at the time. My self-esteem was at zero. I knew he was not a good person, but I didn’t care. I still just wanted someone to make me feel the way that my ex did. To fill up that hole inside of me. It took me a while to open my eyes to the person he was, but still couldn’t bring myself to end the relationship till I found out that he had been cheating on me.
I hit rock bottom. I was asleep more than I was awake, because I just couldn’t handle it all anymore. I put on a mask for the rest of the world, lied to my parents about my grades and how I was doing emotionally. I disconnected from everything and everyone. If I let myself feel anything at all, it opened the floodgates to all the pain I was dealing with. So it was much easier to shut off my emotions. I got very close to killing myself, and still I couldn’t reach out for help.
Somewhere amidst all of the hurting and self-deprecation, my self-preservation instincts kicked in. I was not going to become another statistic, another life thrown away because some girl couldn’t deal with her feelings. I wanted to succeed. Once again, my desire to prove to those around me that I couldn’t be defeated outweighed my depression. Don’t get me wrong, I was still dealing with some pretty heavy emotions. But I was trying so hard to do something with myself and my life.
I’m working harder at school than I’ve ever worked in my life to get my GPA up, I’m working hard to make myself better emotionally too. It’s not easy. I still have nights like tonight, as I’m writing this, where I doubt everything and let my fears get the best of me. But what I always remember is that I have come too far and worked too hard to give up now. I’m going to keep trying to get better.
If you’re reading this, and maybe you’re going through something similar, please reach out to me. I’ve been through it all, so maybe I can offer a fresh perspective, or just listen.
Today, I am blissfully happy dating my boyfriend, Dominic :) we’ve been together for a year, and we’ve talked about the future, marriage, kids, everything. I am amazed at how wonderful my life is, and thankful it just seems to get better every day. You’ll see me talk about him in my personal posts, and I’ve put up some pictures of us.