Fresh Start

I’ve been struggling to write this post.
How does one write a post about trying to start up their blog for the 3rd, or is it the 4th time now?
The truth is I’ve never been very consistent on this thing. I’ve often doubted if anyone was reading was I was writing or if what I was saying would even matter to anyone other than my mother. (Hey there mom, welcome back you beautiful creature)

So I guess I’ll start with why I want to post here in the first place. I want to share my stories. I’m a writer of fiction, its my escape into another reality and it’s a lot of fun to create. However, my personal journey carries a lot of weight in the real world. I’ve learned that people like me are not talked about. So I thought, why not talk about people like me by starting with me and seeing if anyone else can relate?

My life has often felt like one constant struggle after another. Once I feel I’ve climbed the mountain, ready to see the beautiful view I’ve spent all this time climbing just to see, only to realize I’m on the wrong mountain. There’s a larger mountain, blocking the ultimate view. Not only blocking the view but I just spent all this time climbing and I wasn’t even on the right mountain to begin with!

This is what it has been like for me. I get the dreadful comments of “but your life seems so perfect.” Or the “what could you possibly have to complain about?”

Oh, I don’t know. Just a family history of alcoholism, narcissistic abuse, bipolar disorders, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, the ache of perfectionism, and people pleasing. Wrap that up into a pretty package of “we dont talk about it” and that might just sum up my childhood for you. I don’t make this statement for pity. Fighting over who has a bigger right to complain is exhausting and gets you no where.

I make it to present the point that perfection is a lie, and to show you how important perseverance is.

If I could kill any phrase that hints at anothers’ life being “perfect” for eternity, I would.

Not only is the comment super ignorant, but its setting unrealistic expectations for yourself. No one has a perfect life. Even someone who grew up with parents who didn’t abuse them. Maybe they had an abusive bf or best friend. Maybe they lost someone close to them? We ALL have struggles. Nobody, no matter how “perfect” their aesthetic is on Instagram is has a “perfect life.”

Social media barely scratches the surface of what someone’s life holds. So it is our responsibility to withhold judgment and just be kind.

I want to talk about these hard topics because emotional trauma and abuse is not talked about enough in our society. We all like to use the word toxic but do we know what it means?

Or do we only like to use it as a way to call out behaviors in others that we do not like.

Can we recognize our own toxicity?

To be clear. I won’t talk about anything here that I havent gone through, or I’m afraid to face. At least, not without being open and honest about those fears and struggles. I want this to be an open , honest conversation where we can continue to learn and grow together. I dont have all the answers but I want to share, and continue to evolve.

Once I removed myself from my abusive home life, I thought I had set myself free. I didn’t know the toxic and unhealthy behaviors I had carried with me because of the trauma I suffered. Yes, that happens. Just because you are a victim of abuse does not mean you are immune to the trauma creating habits and toxic behaviors it forms. Which was a huge f**king surprise to me, I have to say. Wasn’t being abused enough?

So, getting out of the abusive situation was the first mountain. I want to note this, because leaving an abusive situation is not easy.

Especially when you feel bound to the other people being abused, and when the abuser makes you feel as if you can not do things on your own. So finding the strength to recognize you can do things on your own, and that this will not be the rest of your life is huge. A lot of people have a hard time with this step. Because accepting the situation for what it is, then creates a crossroads.

Once you’re at this crossroads you have two choices
1. Will I stay and continue to be a victim?
Or
2. Will I leave, and give myself a chance at a better life?

The reason a lot of people don’t make the choice to leave or change their circumstances is because of fear.
Its hard for us to see a different reality than what we have experienced.

So you have to be able to truly see outside of your current circumstances to be able to make that choice. To invision a life without the abuse, pain, and suffering. And then to believe that it is possible, or at least start telling yourself it is, until you do.. From experience I can tell you that it is extremely difficult to see beyond this when you are just trying to make it through the day hour by hour.

So, I made plans to leave. Granted plans don’t go as you think, and I was kicked out of the house early – I had already mentally been planning to leave. (Story for another time)

So I got out. My sister and I got an apartment together. It was an efficiency studio apartment without a bedroom, and we shared it. I didn’t have a car. I walked to work and school, but we made it work.

So years later, here I was married, in another state, feeling like my life was slowly but surely getting better. I was on top of the mountain.
I got to the top, I could breathe, the view was amazing. If you grew up in poverty like me, you will understand this next sentence perfectly.

That moment, when you’re shopping at the grocery store, and putting whatever you need and some things you even want in the basket without thinking of cost.
That feeling.
I paused in the middle of Walmart and started to cry. I hadn’t even realized I was financially stable in that way until that moment.

So when I say getting to the top of that mountain felt like I had made it, it really did. I got out of the house!! I wasn’t being abused anymore, in the manner in which I was accustomed. I was financially stable for the first time in my life. I was 20 years old. My parents struggled, and my husband’s parents struggled. We felt we were breaking generational struggles. That we were making smarter choices and doing great.

And these are all huge for someone like me. Do not get me wrong about any of that. But it is not the end game. It was only the beginning. That was what I didn’t know. I wish I had realized, but I learned the hard way.

I was missing a key component to my healing. I didn’t even know it either, because I was never taught it.
We didn’t learn about this in school. We didn’t learn about this growing up.
Emotional intelligence isn’t something I knew anything about. What is a narcissist? What is emotional abuse? What are red flags? You know the real red flags of an unhealthy person? What does setting and enforcing a boundary look like? How did I stop people pleasing and feeling guilty for saying “No”?

Mental health is so much more than depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. But how would I know anything about it when nobody was talking about it?

Unfortunately, because I was not educated on these things yet I was very unhappy. I thought I had all the proper tools. I thought I was doing things the right way. I was going to work, and paying my bills. I was being a functioning member of society. And yet… the rockslide of depression and crippling anxiety hit me.

I’d always struggled with depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. But I assumed it was because of the environment I was in. And maybe it was what caused it, but I was no longer in that situation. So why was I feeling like this?

I soon realized that getting out of a situation does not mean you are healed from it. Simply leaving your abuser. Simply “getting out”, isn’t enough.

And man did that make me angry. Not only had I been abused and traumatized but I was saddled with this emotional baggage. Had what happened to me not been enough?

That was the victim mentality still speaking to me. Still telling me that I had every right to feel the way I felt. To wallow in the pain. Because I earned that right. Because I was justified.

And that’s fine, wallowing in it. But if you choose to be a victim. That is all you will allow yourself to ever be. You will never make it to the coveted victor status you hear of. Remember those two questions at the crossroads I spoke of earlier? Well, those come up often and not just once in your life. It is a conscious choice you make on a daily basis.

I had to look up at the larger, bigger, scarier mountain and really ask myself “Could what is on the other side be worth all the pain?”

And it is. It really is.

That mountain in menacing. Its scary. Its knee scraping, and broken bones. Its building, and then rebuilding again when the posts are crooked. Its tough, nitty gritty, painful hard work.

Because laying bare your soul and finally, truly being honest with yourself about who you are is the hardest part.

Accepting that you are more than the narrative of what your abuser says is hard.

Those stories that you tell yourself about who you are and what you deserve stick with you, and will continue to inhibit you if you allow them to. The best part? These stories we tell ourselves will allow us to flourish if we let them. Its all about what your inner dialogue is. That is a whole post in and of itself for later.

I want to share this side of me to explain that mental baggage is a real thing. Its important that we all take the time to heal from our past traumas, and ensure that we are not carrying over any toxic behaviors.
Toxic behaviors are learned. There were a lot of things I wish I had taken the time to sort out sooner.

It took me being utterly hopeless, and depressed to reevaluate my life again. The one thing that I held onto growing up was “If you could get out of here, it will get better.” And that truly helped me, even though it was just one small piece of the puzzle. It helped me hold onto some hope. My hope for others is that if I share my story and we continue to educate each other about mental health that we will prevent others from going through the same pain.
Its part of the reason I’m a writer.

Story telling was invented to help us teach each other about experiences without having to go through the pain ourselves.

We all have to endure some pain, it helps shape us, but it doesn’t have to be so hard. And it doesn’t have to be something you struggle with alone. It also doesn’t have to be a blind fight. Equipping yourself with the proper tools, and knowledge will make the climb so much easier.

The next mountain of my life won’t be done in flip flops in shorts, I’ll tell you that.

Thanks for reading. I see you on the next one.

Share your thoughts with me in the comments, or connect with me on Instagram @taylorrenneduarte