Let me tell y'all a story.. about a little girl, barely 3 years old, with no idea of how the world works.
All she knew was toys and cartoons.
She was happy and all was well, until her mom brought home a strange man.
See, mom were dad were supposed to be married, and mom was supposed to protect her.
But mom was too blinded by her infidelity to look up and notice the bad things that man was doing to her little girl.
Next thing she knew, the little girl moved on to live with her grandmother.
Still in confusion about what was happening to her, and why she was no longer with her mother,
She was even happier because she felt safer. Life was golden.
Until a big scary man walked into her home with a loaded gun and a plan to put her grandmother underground and turn her into an angel.
The little girl survived, uninjured, at least not physically.
Little did she know that in the years to come, there would be so much anxiety and PTSD.
Finally, the girl found sanctuary in becoming part of a new family. That family would raise her for the next 15 years.
Even though she'd later grow up to feel like the black sheep, she was still happy. Why?
Because this family gave her siblings, they gave her security.. Food, clothes, education, a roof over her head. Everything she wanted and needed.
Yet afterwhile, she grew extremely sad.
She hated the fact that she couldn't live with her biological mom and dad. The hurt had caught up to her from seeing her grandmother pass.
Then along came the depression that took away her light and left her with nothing more than stress and fake laughter.
The teenage girl used to dream of being a famous actress, but that dream soon became a nightmare when she realized that she'd have to rehearse the way she lived her life on a daily basis.
No longer a little girl, now 18, she's beginning to feel the heat of the poison that's been boiling on the back burner for years.
And now the main source of her pain is that same family that once upon a time made her feel safe.
See, her whole life, she tried to be obedient and do what was right by her "parents."
But it soon became apparent that her "family," couldn't handle her depression.
She soon began to realize that certain members of her "family," were toxic, that she was scapegoated and gaslit because she wasn't perfect and wasn't biologically theirs.
She hated this because she loved them so much and all she wanted to do was make them happy. But when it was time for her to finally do something to benefit herself, all of a sudden she was selfish, and crazy.
So now, this grown woman is really struggling, juggling multiple mental illnesses and a toxic family. She just wants some peace, but the world is relentless. It just won't let up.
She's searching for the rainbow at the end of this rain, tryna stay safe inside the eye of this hurricane, using weed, alcohol and psychedelics to erase the pain.
She's faded when she's sober and sober when she's faded.
Coming down from the high, she's come to the realization that certain things, she can no longer entertain, in order to maintain the last bit of sanity left inside her brain.
Sometimes, she moves a little unorthodox as she scrambles to find new ways to break out of her invisible box. But when you've been locked up all your life within the padded walls of your own mind, it can be easy to lose sight of what's wrong and what's right.
She very often finds that she's at war with her own self, as she battles the thoughts of whether or not she's even a good person. Sometimes, she wonders if she's the villain. And it's not like she always wants to be a hero or anything. She's just sick of always feeling like the villain when in reality, all she truly wants to be is a civilian.
That once upon a time, bubbly, innocent, little girl, now grown and in the process of healing from past and present demons, was and still is me.
I'm not looking for anybody to feel sorry for me, not even asking for anybody to believe me. I've just been holding it all back for so long, and had to get it off me. I'm just tryna tell you my story.
So thank you, for reading my autobiography.
