I had come to believe that no-one was reading this, and that is why I stopped blogging quite so much, but I have discovered that I miss it and it has dawned on me that this is much more like a diary than a blog and for that therapeutic reason I am going to keep going.
When I was a teenager I always kept a diary, the best one was a small notebook that I had decorated with the wrapper from a Smarties Easter egg, I loved the texture of it as the foil had crumpled together when I had glued it on, I think it also had my name on, which was made up of letters I had cut out of magazines. I don't have it anymore, I destroyed them all some years ago, now I can see it was a part of the breaking process, I was in a bad relationship, which involved the other person gaining complete control and I think this is the reason that I am so uncomfortable in my own skin, even now.
Those years as a teenager, when you grow and you learn about yourself, other people and the generalness of the world, were the years I spent hiding, keeping quiet, crying and self harming. Listening to heavy metal music and shutting myself off from the world, a world I believe I did want to be a part of, I just didn't know how to. I was so venerable as a teenager, desperate to be noticed and have my affections returned, I'd had crushes, who had humiliated me, and friends who were going out with the popular boys, while the popular boys were bullying me. We weren't on the same page and after a while it began to feel as if we weren't even on the same planet! So when I met someone who supposedly cared for me (which in a way I don't doubt he did, it was just in a twisted and warped way) I jumped at the chance, and fell in head first. I stayed for nearly 5 years, in the end I had started to think less about my way out of the relationship and more about my way out of the world altogether, convinced I would never be able to walk away, I though I could at least slip away.
But then, things changed, I started University and I got a part-time job, I made new friends and re-made friends I had lost, and I met someone, someone who gave me hope, who, for the first time showed me affection with no hint of anything more, someone who was just nice. I had friends again, I laughed (occasionally) I stopped harming myself and started distancing myself from the one that was harming me, and like a a drug addict in the throws of recovery I got strong enough to leave.
It didn't come without it's repercussions, it was in fact the hardest thing I have ever done, what had started out as young love, had over time become an intense fear that penetrated me so deeply I could not remove myself from the situation and I was totally incapable of walking away, given the choice I would have chosen him every time and convinced myself that it was love that was keeping us together, when in fact, it was only an immobilising fear.
And now as I stare at my life ahead, with the one who got me here, I am beginning to really learn who I am, what I am capable of, and who I want to be in the future, all with the man who gave me the greatest gift of all..........faith, in myself.
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