Be Strong
In college, I took a psychology class that required we keep and maintain a journal. I had forgotten about this precious gem until I located it while cleaning out some boxes at my parents’ house last year. I, again, forgot about it until I recently started looking through the stuff, I had brought back with me from that trip.
Some of the
things in this journal make me sad for the twenty-one-year girl I once
was. I was dating an absolute jerk at
the time I wrote in this journal.
Someone who showed little interest in my well-being or ever did care
about me. This relationship was torturous
for me, but I stayed in it because I did not know any better and really wanted
someone to love me. I wanted them to
love the twenty-one-year-old version of myself, which was difficult to do
because I had a lot of trauma that I had to work through to love myself,
therefore allowing someone else to love me.
Not to mention, he had to process through his trauma and grow up as
well. It was a recipe for disaster.
The following
excerpt is from an entry dated April 2006:
“Be Strong: I had a
pretty rough, but good childhood. The
things that I had to endure during those years made me realize that I had to be
strong. I shouldn’t let anything affect
me too much. You have to take what is
given to you and roll with it. Don’t
give up . . . I wasn’t raised to be weak, and I haven’t lived for 21 years just
to fall and stay there laying in sadness and give up. No, I will not give into pain and sorrow . .
. I dislike being sad, mad, and cry all the time. I am so looking forward to my tomorrows. Life will only begin to get better now, and I
will be happy once again.”
I am assuming
that I wrote this after breaking up with the guy I was dating at the time. I think this entry was a way to remind myself
of the things that I had survived as a child and to remind myself of that fierce
chick I was.
Most
importantly, when I read this entry, I realize how fractured I was as a human
being. I was uncomfortable processing my
emotions, so rather than give myself permission to feel anything, I convinced
myself to drown them out. I see it in my
pep talk to myself, “you have to take what is given to you and roll with it.”
Yes, we should
roll with the ups and the of life. Without
the bad, we cannot appreciate the good parts, but I read this and understand
that I was just telling myself to accept the unkindness I was receiving and
drown it out. By drowning it out,
I was drowning my pain, which led to a world of destruction and future
unhealthy relationships.
I was not raised
to process my emotions. I was raised to
get over it and move forward. The concept
of getting over it made it easier on my parents who were dealing with their own
trauma. No, I did not have a terrible upbringing,
I had a similar upbringing to most of my peers.
Our generation
was raised to be tough. If we cried
about our problems, we were baby criers and seen as “weak.” To avoid further trauma, a lot of us sucked
it up and carried the pain into our adulthood.
We rage partied, dated unhealthy people, had poor judgment when it came
to friends. We further traumatized ourselves
by forcing ourselves to “suck it up and get over it.” The reality is that a lot of us are still not
processing and still causing more pain than love in our lives. I am guilty of still sucking it up and not
processing my feelings at times. Old habits
die hard.
The concept of being
tough was instilled in us in a way to keep us silent. If we did not complain or call out the people
who hurt us, they could not be held accountable. In my opinion, it was emotional and
psychological abuse. We were raised to
believe that if a boy pulled our hair on the playground, he liked you. He liked you? Rather than tell Timmy not to hurt you, he
was raised to hurt you and not give a fuck.
The bully was just a hurt person and rather than intervene and give them
access to behavioral counseling, they were allowed to perpetuate their abuse
and spread it like wildfire on the playground.
Are you kidding me?
It’s in
reflection we can see the themes of abuse in our lives. The bully, the boy that likes you, it’s the
mean girl you remain friends with out of fear of her rath. We start developing coping mechanisms as
children for survival and the sad truth is that we continue to build and shield
ourselves from the world. There is a
reason a lot of us do not trust one another.
It is the lack of not knowing how to hold people accountable.
If you were
silenced as a child and were essentially taught that your parent’s feelings were
more important than your own, you are most likely a people pleaser. You strive for the love and affirmation of
people at the cost of your own sanity and feelings. You were never given permission to speak up
and out against the people who wronged you.
You have lived in frustration and pain and probably feel unseen or
unheard.
If you were born
in a household where there was substance abuse, you are probably angry as hell and
misunderstood. You mask your pain with
anger and trust no one. You have friends
but know they too will abandon you. We operate
on rejection and are always waiting for a bomb to drop. We thrive in chaos because we were born in
it.
Both scenarios
are examples of abuse. These cycles of
abuse are more prevalent in our lives than we choose to accept and acknowledge. Abuse is not only something you can see, but also
psychological and emotional. We are more
than just products of our environments.
We can choose to break those cycles and begin to heal ourselves by identifying
our triggers and processing the deep-rooted pain to live a happier enriched
life.
You may not be
able to see my scars, but in reading my journal entries, I am reminded of the
pain I suffered. I can reflect more and heal
the wounds of that lost twenty-one-year-old girl who felt she had to hide her
pain.
I look forward
to sharing more entries and heal those old wounds with love and compassion.
