Welcome to Behind Closed Doors
Welcome everyone to my life,
I figured it would be a good idea to start off by explaining a bit about me. I am a psychology student currently entering her junior year at a state university in California pursuing a BA. I eventually would like to get my doctorate and teach, pursue research on relationships and love, as well as become a couples therapist. However, like most psych majors I didn't pick this field because I came from a past of a mom making cookies all the time, a white picket fence out front and a perfect well put together family. No in our family we voice our issues as loud as a drunk santa on your roof christmas eve trying not to wake everyone up. (spoiler alert: drunk santa isn't very quiet.)
I have moved 42 times, I am 21 now and I live with my boyfriend whom I have been with for three years. I was abused as a child and was a victim of a divorced household. Before that? A constant battleground between parents who fought over a feud that would yet to be settled till the problem left to start her own life. You guessed it that problem was me... I was not raised to be the star or even the understudy. With only one little brother, I was fourth string. I was told I was worthless, stupid but I was never told I was ugly. Though every insult made me feel that I was ugly, I never felt ugly on the outside but rather on the inside. My exterior shell meaning nothing compared to the soul inside. I worked year after year on perfecting my soul and spirit to be the perfect girl, woman, girlfriend, wife, mom, and daughter. Always thinking 10 years ahead so I could make the right decisions now to avoid pain in the future. But what good is life without mistakes?
Mistakes are those times you look back and say "I was so stupid" but you can't help the shit eating grin on your face. The time your parents caught you kissing a boy/girl or when you got drunk when you were underaged. Times you don't regret you just know they weren't smart. I was told to avoid all of those times. Every memory of kids running around on halloween, I wasn't allowed to because "You could get raped". Any time I wanted to sleep over, " Someone could break in and steal you guys." My parents had a constant fear of losing me to a horrible tragedy so much so that I would wind up not living. So I lived when I was 18 and moved out. I worked two jobs, modeled on the side for extra money. My body, worthless to me; my mind, the gold in my treasure chest. I was tough. The therapist I see says I am like a marine. Cold, hard, stern, and very well disciplined however feeling is difficult to articulate when I am in pain or if I don't know you. It is a defense to protect myself. But I let my guard down, traveled all over to be validated and paid by men that only wanted to get as many clothes off of my body and photograph it to sell that image. A vulnerable girl, with little confidence, an appealing image for so many. I was ok with that for so long.
My journey has been long and yet I have so far to still go. But everyday I struggle with ADHD, Clinical Depression and Anxiety Disorder. And everyday I am reminded that there is no way to anticipate what is going to come, and yet I freak out every time I think something could happen even if it won't happen for five years. My dad always used to say that life is like a game of chess. Your goal is to be as many steps ahead as possible and to think like your opponent. Playing this game of chess with every person you meet gets to be tiresome. Hence this journal. In essence this is more of an outlet for me to speak out about how I am feeling about my past to cope and process everything that happened. So here it goes, my life story. This is everything that has happened to me behind closed doors.
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