A Memoire

I don’t want to come back down from this cloud
It’s taken me all this time to get up here
I feel like I’m blind
Cuz I don’t believe in what I see
The lies I tell myself
Getting deeper everyday
I feel like I’m running in circles
Chasing tails
It gets so hard to walk away
I need to face my past…

July 11th 1984…6:03am in sparrow hospital, East Lansing, MI. I made my first appearance into the world. If only I knew what was in store for me…if only…

I guess I was happy as a kid…but that doesn’t go so far. Somewhere along the way things went sour for me, I’m not exactly sure what it was, but looking back I can spot a number of things that probably had an impact on it all….

Sophomore year of high school was rough…out of nowhere it seemed I had feelings for people I ‘wasn’t supposed to’ have them for…I got into more and more fights with my parents…we didn’t talk. I felt isolated in my own world, banging on doors, screaming my lungs out looking for an escape but found no one to my rescue. I decided to go to boarding school for my last two years of high school…I think it was one of the best things I have ever done for myself. People always ask me…boarding school…why? And I just tell them, I wanted to…I was used to moving around as a kid and its just something I had to do…its not the complete truth, but its not a lie either.

I left Rabun Gap….June 2nd 2002…I’ll never forget that night. I left a part of me there, something I shoved into the closet and pretend never happened. It was raped out of me and I can never get it back. Even now I have to think hard…wreck my brain to try and make sense of what happened…your smell, your touch, your body…its all like it was just last night. It hurts so much to think about so I’m going to move on…

I ran away from my problems…Philadelphia was my next destination…Ill-adelphia I like to call it. Running away is something I do often but this is when things started getting rough. Don’t get me wrong, I had my share of shits as a teenager...wanting to run away (no pun intended) day after day…hence why I moved halfway across the world. Limiting my interaction with my family would maybe in some strange way bring me closer to them.

“Fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too”

You were good to me; I looked up to you and respected you. You killed me though. Nothing destroyed me more than that phone call I got from mom.

You had a girlfriend.

I couldn’t understand what she was saying, I heard it all but the words didn’t make sense. How could you have a girlfriend…you were married, and had kids…did she mean my brother had a girlfriend. I remember having to ask her to repeat herself over and over again. I was numb. She asked me if I was ok and I said yes. I mean I was, this was all a dream it wasn’t happening…I hung up... Pinching myself and waiting to wake up, I started to break down. The tears fell silently…and I started shaking uncontrollably. I made a few dents in the walls over my bed which I would late be charged for…I have two scars on my knuckles to remind me of that night.

I don’t know if my two roommates were in the apartment that night or not…if they were I don’t remember what they said to me…I don’t remember when I finally closed my eyes and tried to breathe again…I remember waking up the next morning…bloody spots on my knuckles, but the pain felt good. I didn’t go to any of my classes. I didn’t leave my room at all …I didn’t say a word the entire day.

After that day I was me again, smiling, laughing and just being me. I hurt so bad, so so so bad, but I didn’t show any of it. How could I? I woke up every morning and put on my happy face. The face that was gonna get me through the day. I kept doing that for I don’t even know how long….over a year…

My faces started wearing out, I had rips and tears, but I tried to patch them up. Sometimes it worked, and other times it just didn’t.

“The sun doesn’t shine so much
In a sky full of rain
A painted face
On a child full of pain
Trying so hard to be perfect
Trying so hard to please
But no one sees the destruction
She causes herself
No one hears her cries for help
Stuck in the middle of world war III
She finds comfort in the dark corner
Harming herself to forget her other pain
It seems so natural
Such an easy way out
I don’t blame you for my issues
I don’t blame you for my pain
I don’t blame you
For the pain that never seems to go away
But how do I say thank you
Thank you for the past few years
Thank you for making things so clear
Thank you for letting me see
Thank you for fucking me up” – SilverReign 2004

I spiraled down faster than I thought I could. I didn’t quite hit rock bottom but I came pretty close to it. My scars remind me that my past was real. The self inflicted pain I caused myself really did exist. Trying to forget and denial wont get me anywhere; I can look down and see different stories from my past written down. No one asked me about it….but I know they knew. They knew the answers to the secrets I kept from them.

“Went to bed last night. Hoping it would all go away. Popped a few pills, cut a little deeper. Maybe that will help. My world started spinning. Couldn’t keep my eyes opened. Why’s the bed so far away. All I see is black. Voices so far away. A siren, shouts, screams. I feel like I’m moving. But where are they taking me. Suddenly it’s dark. No more noises. My world is still. The vision in front of me scars me. It is real. Is that me? Lying on the floor. In a pool of blood. People crying, screaming, and falling. What have I done? What have I caused? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” – SilverReign 2004

When I finally did hit rock bottom…or my version of rock bottom, it was when I started to scare myself with my thoughts…they became intricately detailed. Way too realistic. And I didn’t know what to do…it took forever for me to take the steps I needed to take, but once I started. It wasn’t as bad. I’m not going to lie; I relapsed a few times…not once, not twice, not even three times…but more times than I can count. I never believed in myself, but having other people believe in me helped me through, and from that I’ve learned to help those who don’t ask for help…they are the ones that need it most.

Looking for closure is hard…it’s been years later and I’m still waiting to close up the fresh wounds. I’m waiting for some sort of scab to be added to the stories that will forever haunt me.