Dealing with Depression and Anxiety
This is not something that will give you answers. It's more like an autobiography and maybe you can relate or maybe somehow it will help you. Either way I feel like writing is a good ventation. Yes I believe I just made a word up.
Ventation: The form of venting through writing and other helpful activities.
I often was in the middle of the fights and then abandonment. When my mother finally left my father. She left me behind. Leaving me in the crossfire. He dropped me off and left me. Two months later he returned and took me with him. He moved back into his parents/my grandparents house.
At first it was great. I'd often watch movies and now the lawn with my grandfather. But he has to work. My grandma only came home at midnight and she slept. My grandpa never went shopping and my father was too lazy. The food I ate was barley ever fresh if I ate at all.
By age 5 when I finally saw my mum after a year you could count my ribs. She immediately started to fight for me. She only got visitation rights. Her and her boyfriend started to build my strength back up. At school I was having issues. I fit in, but I wasn't healthy, I struggled with studies.
I started losing intrest in everything that wasn't either wrestling or MÃ¶tley CrÃ¼e. Music became a gateway for me. A way I could get away from the neglect from my father or the constant yelling in the house. The abuse was mental and physical.
Finally at 8 my mum got custody and my dad was only allowed visitation. This only happened, because my father threatened mine and my mother's life. When I told her she took me to the police station. They however told him what I said and released me to him.
Most of my childhood I have blocked out. I remember bits and pieces. I remember screaming for my mum when he was beating her and he slammed her onto me and told her to tell me goodnight. My childhood was taken from one more abuse that I never spoke of to either of my parents.
After that I changed my personality, the kid who always tried to find happiness in something. The fearless kid, became scared of everything. She'd curl up in a ball and cry when people yelled. She cry confronting someone. She became attached to fantasy worlds. Worlds where they can find happiness. But she grew scared of growing up. Of commitment.
After awhile she stopped caring. Because she already started to self harm at only 9. She became good at hiding her scars, but never wanting to die. She knew people had it worse then her and dying was not fair to them. She learned how to bottle it inside.
The rest of her childhood. The rest of my childhood was an ongoing battle. Depression, mental abuse, self harm. Happiness true happiness was rare and a treasure. And I was okay with that.