First ever post

Whatever I make I rip apart with my own insecurities. For that reason alone is why I mainly never committed to making a YouTube channel about my story. Felt staged and not authentic. Which is the whole point of this blog, so I figure if I just start typing I can just be real for once.

I'm not good with words. I’m not good at expressing myself either. It’s always been something I struggle hard with. I feel like I constantly hide behind this happy mask I put on for everyone so I don’t have to talk about my feelings. I never was one to open up and talk about my problems unless asked about myself, in which case I simple answer with the “oh I’m good! Just been keeping myself busy.” It’s an easy response that doesn’t require deep conversation. How could I really expect someone to truly understand my mind when they have no clue what I lived through? What I deal with on a constant basis due to my cpstd. I'm mad at myself because talking about my past you think would help or heal in someway but instead I immediately think I’m seeking attention, playing the whoa is me card, no one really wants to listen because everyone else has their own problems. No one has time for mine as well. It’s an awful trauma response I’ve picked up and have unlearned how to trust others and even myself. I suffered for years in silence and just continued to put my strong face on for others, I thought if I could at least make them feel better maybe my pain will go away? 

I’m just tired of being misunderstood and is just known as the quiet sweetheart who will do anything for anyone when the feelings are not mutual in most cases, I’m still learning that one. If people really knew how I felt on a daily they would maybe get why I’m the way I am. I have reasons why I’m scared and it isn’t simple explained as “oh he just hit you.” 
Try having every once of control being taken from you. Try having someone you trusted more than anyone else and was “your person” for 7 years drag you around the house by your clothes and choke you out because you are being too loud. The harder you cried the harder the hands felt. I can almost remember the feeling of two shape knives being held against my throat. The way the broken glass felt on my back when he threw me up against and broke the window cuz we had a fight he was just done hearing my voice. His anger just took control and once he got back into meth it was game over for us. I never gave up though. Always thought I could “fix” him. I still hear his piercing hateful words wishing I was better off just dead and out of his life that night back in 2019 when I couldn’t hide the bruises anymore. When he drank he hated me. Couldn’t stand to even look at me with those black, soulless eyes. The look in his eyes that night still give me night terrors and has put fear in every inch of my body right now I’m afraid of everything. The simplest of tasks become huge tasks and just managing my emotions daily has me mentally and physically exhausted.  I wish I could say he was the only one who caused serious trauma in my life but I’d be lying. Dealing with sexual assault as a child is a burden I don’t wish on anybody. You are still figuring out the world and learning who you can rely on. What happens if it’s someone you look up to? He ran the house at the time so whatever he said went. I didn’t know about the drinking problem and child molesting tendencies until his sick thoughts became my reality at only 12. So how could I trust people so easily? The feeling I felt as that little girl I won’t ever forget even with my horrible memory. Why me? I didn’t ask to grow up so young. I got so many things taking away from such an early age. Now as an adult I still have so many issues I haven’t even begun dealing with. All I really wish is to just fine peace. I wanna see me happy and know that life won’t be this hard forever, hopefully. 
Thanks for reading my first throw up blog.