Oh my head.
Everything is spinning.
And everything hurts.
Especially my face.
I slowly open my eyes and see beige-brown curtains.
There's sunlight coming in and out from the curtains that are moving slightly from
the wind.
There are empty pizza boxes on the ground and what looks like enough beer bottles to
drown an elephant.
This is not my room.
I don't know where I am.
But to be honest, this isn't an unfamiliar feeling.
Even the things that scare you to your very core if they reoccur enough, you start to
feel like it's a part of your life.
It becomes familiar and comforting.
Oh my head.
Maybe this is who I am now.
Someone who wakes up in strange mens apartments.
Speaking of strange men….
Where is he, is he behind me?
I don't even want to know.
I'm going to try to sneak out.
Oh my head.
Am I going to be able to do this?
I opened up the blanket and before I took a step out, an arm is swung across my face,
locking onto my neck and then pushing me down.
Oh my head.
"Where are you going babydoll?"
I looked up to see the brown eyed, messy brown haired
man grinning at me from ear to ear.
He's choking me.
"Your choking me."
"You didn't mind it last night."
"I can't breathe.
Stop."
"You don't tell me what to do, I thought you learned this last night.
We had some fun didn't we?"
I'm really choking.
I can't breathe.
Everything is becoming a blur.
"Stop."
He let's go.
"You almost killed me you son of a - !"
I tried to punch him with my right hand but he grabs my wrist with his left and with his
right hand slaps me right across the face.
"You don't learn your lesson do you?
I thought a black eye would teach you a thing or two."
That explains the pain.
"Who are you?"
"I told you baby, I can either be your dream come true or your living nightmare."
"I would say the latter fits best."
Screw this.
I'm leaving.
I tried to get up to grab my clothes.
He grabbed me, pulled me closer and tried to kiss me.
I tried to fight him off, getting in a punch or two.
But in the end, there wasn't much I could do…
I bent down to grab my clothes on the floor and my legs completely gave out.
I had no energy left I … I gotta get the hell out of here.
He's laying in bed smoking and on his phone.
Got what he wanted, he has no need for me anymore.
I grabbed all my stuff and got dressed on the way out.
I gotta get the hell out of here.
As I was walking out, I managed to keep a straight face.
But i was shaking the entire time.
By the time I passed the first house, I bursted into tears.
I can't believe I let myself get into that position.
He could've killed me and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.
I passed a few houses and curbs and couldn't walk anymore.
I sat down at one of the steps, put my arm on my knees, my head on my arm and just sobbed.
I don't want to go home and get beaten some more.
This might not even be the worst thing to happen to me today.
Yesterday, she pulled my hair and told me that if I don't clean my room, she was going
to kill me.
The day before, she got off the phone with dad and then hit me with the phone.
It's been going on since they divorced when I was 4.
I'm 17 now.
She's like this because he cheated on her when they were married so she punishes me
for it.
They were married really young.
She was 19 and he was 20.
I don't remember what it was like before they got divorced of course.
Her like this is all I know.
I looked up and there are more people in the streets.
I better get home.
I stood in front of the faded red door staring at it.
The area around the doorknob is more faded and chipped than everywhere else.
I can empathize.
I took a deep breathe - I really hope she's still sleeping - and I quietly opened the
door.
I peaked inside before stepping in.
She's not here.
I took a deep breath out and closed the door as quickly as possible.
Ok.
So far so good.
And now, the stairs.
I slowly walked up the stairs and avoided the squeaky step.
That step has drawn a lot of blood and bruises.
As I crept pass her room and slowly opened my bedroom door, my heart is beating so fast.
She's hurt me so many times and in so many ways, but no matter how bruised and battered
I am, I will always be afraid.
I guess I was wrong, just because it's a part of your life, it doesn't mean you will
stop being afraid of it.
When I opened the door, I saw that she wasn't there.
I took another breath out.
I looked in the mirror and saw that my eye was turning black.
Great.
How am I going to hide this?
I remembered the last time I had a black eye.
I was really young but still too afraid to tell anyone that my own mother gave it to
me.
I think that was when I started to stop loving her.
How could I love her as my mom when she didn't treat me like she was my mom?
That was also the moment I started to hurt myself.
It got so bad that by the time I was thirteen, the principle sent a letter to my mom that
she had to send me to a psychiatrist.
So I went to a psychiatrist.
After a few sessions, he told me that I have BPD or Borderline Personality Disorder.
BPD is a serious mental illness that makes it hard for people to control their emotions
and causes problems in relationships.
The symptoms are an intense fear of abandonment, having unstable relationships, self-destructive
behaviors, unclear or unstable self image, chronic feelings of emptiness, explosive anger,
extreme mood swings and more.
But she didn't do anything about it.
The only thing she did was made sure my dad didn't know.
But things got better when Nathaniel came into my life.
I felt supported for the first time in my life.
I felt like I wasn't alone.
But we were stupid teens and we broke up twice in two years.
In the break ups, I started to feel that empty feeling again.
A feeling I hadn't felt since I met him.
It feels like there's a sharp pain in your stomach.
It feels like there is a hole there.
It feels like something is falling in it and never finding the end.
It feels like you're shaking on the inside.
It feels like hell.
I couldn't handle it.
Every time I had that feeling, I'd rushed out to find someone to help ease the loneliness.
But it only made me feel worse…
We got back together and had an 3 amazing years together.
We both knew each other like the back of our hands, I could finally control my emotions
and impulses, and that empty feeling was gone...
I was happy.
Really happy.
But then he broke up with me.
And at the same time my dad lost his job.
And since mom hadn't had a job in years that meant that I couldn't go to university.
Oh and we also might be kicked out of our house soon because we have no money to pay
the rent...
So here I am looking at myself in the mirror with another black eye.
But it's okay, it's all going to be okay.
I'm ready to go.
It's been really hard trying to deal with all of it alone.
I have no medication to treat my depression so I really am on my own.
At one point when I was standing on the bathroom floor staring at the pool of blood, I realized
that this is the end of my time.
Maybe this is a sign that the world is rejecting me and that I shouldn't be in it.
So I'm just going to give it what it wants.
It's works out for everyone.
And ever since then, it's been kind of a relief.
All I had to do was one thing and then I think she would finally be happy.
I laid down gently on my bed and took out the note that I wrote a few weeks earlier.
The first sentence is written, "Since there is 45 days left of my childhood it only seemed
fitting that I would end everything at the same time."
While I was reading my it, I fell asleep.
I woke up again when I heard the door slam against the wall.
It was my mom.
She looks pissed.
She's yelling something I can't understand.
My ears are ringing and her words aren't making sense- as usual.
The note was still in my hand so it can't be that.
I quickly tucked it away behind me and tried to listen again.
"What is wrong with you?!
You evil little - !"
My dad appeared behind her.
I didn't even know he was here.
He took one look at me and started screaming at her.
She seemed actually scared but as she walks away she still called him all sorts of names.
He threw a duffle bag on the floor, walked over to me, kneeled down next to me and kissed
my forehead, and then told me to pack up my stuff.
"It's time to go honey.
You're turning 18 in a few days so she will no longer have any legal right to keep you...
I know you've been really sad.
I know you're struggling.
I'm going to take you to a doctor and everything is going to be okay, I promise."
Seeing a psychiatrist helped me immensely.
The pills I'm taking really made me feel better and I started to have a positive outlook
on life.
My dad got a stable job which meant that I could start studying.
I discovered that I love to dance.
It's not only a way for me to express myself but it's extremely therapeutic for me.
I am doing so much better and I'm so so glad I didn't go through with my plan.
Nowadays I work as a dancehall teacher, I am about to begin my second semester at university
and I am planning to participate next year at the Hip Hop International 2019, a dance
contest.
Guys, things really do get better.
It was so hard to see a way out but I promise you, there is one.
Sometimes you might just have to trust that things will get better.
That you will be okay.
Sometimes you might not make it on your own, but do not be ashamed of asking for help,
it's really necessary sometimes.
But no matter what, I promise.
THINGS WILL GET BETTER.
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