#pleaserewind

Im not the only one who grew up this way. Surrounded by people who say you need to get over it, you need to be stronger, you need to be better. As if the words don't affect you, hurt you, or like they fade away. So you grow up thinking that the world will fall apart if you start to. That if something happens in your family, it's your fault for not choosing sides or jumping into the argument. As you try to empty yourself of everything that'll hold you back in life so you feel nothing, as if that'll hurt less than actually accepting.

I was nine years old when my parents started to fight. My mom was caught with another guy and I was dragged along to witness it. My home was a battle ground and I found myself outnumbered day after day when I'd try to stop them from arguing. So i used to stay inside my room because outside it was worse. Outside I'd have to learn to pretend that I wasn't just crying or to learn to keep to myself so that no one would know i was....even there.

In grade six my sister started to run away. To this day, despite being a wife and mom, she still has relationship problems. Because of this, I had to learn when to jump into an argument between them. When to just let them yell it out. When to take my brother outside. They'll never understand that shes raising a son who's definition of perfect starts with the word mom because he sees her heart and not her problems because shes only ever been... human.

I was the tree stump that tried to keep my family tree leveled and grounded. Not because my parents opted for a different life, but because of choices. When I was 13 I became an adult. My parents divorced due to my mom cheating which caused my dad to be diagnosed with severe depression. He almost committed suicide three times, that I know of. Cooking meals, doing homework, doing laundry, raising my brother who was only in elementary school as if i wasn't a child myself, the sleepless nights making sure my dad didn't die in his sleep, lying to my brother telling him everything was going to be okay when i didnt even know, uphills and downhills day after wretching day. Standing outside your own home in the rain begging your mom to let you inside the house to get some clothes because you've been wearing the same clothes for two weeks straight and having her tell you no closing the door on your face, now tell me that broken bones hurt more.

I contemplated life in grade nine. When a kid who could still go home to mom and dad had the audacity to tell me to get over it, as if depression is something that can be fixed by a bandaid. To this day, I am still a ticking time bomb. Despite the many friends I have made, or the many people who call me an inspiration, I know I still remain just a conversation between people who can't understand that sometimes overcoming depression has less to do with medications but more to do with willpower.

I'm not the only one who grew up this way. To this day teens are still confusing love for lust. I subjected myself to a loveless relationship because I believed every word he said despite the many times actions spoke louder. I turned my head because I was so tired of losing people. He made me feel like it was my fault, like i was the one to blame, like I was the problem when in reality it was he who was the problem. It was he who made poor choices, it was he who used me, it was he who lied, it was me for staying... It was me. But if someone breaks down at home and no one is around to hear it, do they make a sound? When people say boys will be boys, as if we are suppose to just get over depression and loneliness, trying to fix the wounds as if they'll heal on there own. But at night, while everyone else sleeps, some of us had to practice not giving up and yes we fell, but I want to tell you that all of this shit is just your thoughts of who you used to be and if you cant see anything strong about yourself then get a better mirror, look at yourself a little longer, because theres something inside of you that made you keep going despite everyone that told you that you were nothing, that you were the problem that told you just to quit. You built a cement wall around your broken heart screaming he was wrong. Maybe you didn't have a big family, or a lot of friends and I know this sounds cliche, but you just have to believe in yourself.

Because they were wrong. Why else would we still be here? We are not what we were called. Your not some abandoned car with no gas. We'll all eventually be the class of we made it. Of course the past hurt you but our lives will only ever continue to be a balancing act between pain and choosing to move forward.

I never thought that I would be here. I’ve gone through many struggles in my life. I was bullied, my parents divorced, I was homeless with my dad and little brother, my father suffered from depression, I lost my childhood, I was stuck in a toxic relationship and I suffered from self-doubt. Many of my struggles were faced alone. It was a long and hard process to overcome those setbacks, but I did it. And here I am, here, creating a blogging platform to help others who may be going through similar struggles. I’ve always believed that in order to really overcome anything, you must openly talk about it. By doing so, you take away its power from you, its control over you. You are not alone in your struggles. Many other people are fighting similar battles. The only difference now is that you don’t have to do it alone, like I did. You matter. Your life matters. You may not see a light at the end of the tunnel, but what is to give light must endure burning.