Past or History?

We all live in a world were memories are made each and every second we are alive.

Some are good.

Some are bad.

Some are forgotten.

Some will live with you for the rest of your life.

Some will affect you everyday.

Some will affect you sometimes.

Some can easily destroy you from within whether others see it or not.

What can we do to fix it? Can it be fixed? Should it be fixed at all?

Before I was 5 years old, I don’t really remember much except that I was alone a lot, if not with my mother and I could make my own breakfast and I watched Cartoon Network A LOT.

By the time I was 9, I became a little girl that thought she had the world figured out and was independent. You couldn’t tell me what to wear, think or say. Attitude much?

Between 9 and 14, I lived with my mom mostly. Our relationship intensified and she was more than a mother, she was my best friend and sister. She was everything to me.

Before I turned 15, that all changed when she had to leave the country due to immigration issues. Depression welcomed me with open arms and I was alone.

I left my father because our relationship had been broken when I was in 8th grade.

By freshman year, I became self conscious, loner and cared way to much what others would think of me.

By senior year (16-17), I no longer cared what others thought of me. I found a newly confidence when I realized no one could help me but myself. I stated working 30-36 hours at 16 and went to school full time, while still participating in track and field.

At 17 years old, I joined the military. They broke me down and built a stronger version of who I was in high school. Better tempered, better disciplined, and a better mindset.

I had no fears. I had no dreams. I had no real weaknesses except swimming. (Don’t judge me!)

Once my four years were up, I left and began my civilian career. Right before leaving is when I met my ex-husband.

Everything changed then.

The independent young woman who had confidence like never before, couldn’t be stopped or prevented from reaching her goals no longer existed.

I became dependent, distraught and traumatized by the time we separated.

I was suffering from mania, depression, suicidal ideations, and PTSD.

Worst part is that we tend to remember the worst times over the good times sometimes.

Not only do I remember the physical abuse; I remember the mental ones.

I remember the narrative he created about me, which in turn became me.

I believed the words that constantly replayed in my head.

I lost my confidence.

I lost my self-respect.

I lost myself.

Since ending this last chapter in my life, I’ve overcome a lot of the narrative that was built by him.

I’ve found some of my lost confidence as well.

I’ve also found my self-respect.

But there are still some things I need to work on and that’s my confidence, which I’ve noticed can easily be dampened or diminished heavily.

We live in a society were we compare ourselves more than we should.

However, in my mind if I hear someone’s experience I take it as I’m not good enough to match it or I could never match such experience.

It’s not jealousy.

It’s the remainder of the narrative that is still within me that I’m not good enough. It’s also fear. Fear of falling into the same pit I was in with him. Fear of allowing someone else to hurt me inside out again.

A little bit of fear is good because it reminds us that we’re human. Too much fear can destroy our lives in many different ways.

The important thing to remember and that I need to remind myself is that we all have a history.

We all have a past.

Whatever happened in the past is in the past and doesn’t represent who a person is today but it defines why the person is who they are today.

Think about that while we survive in this crazy world.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s