#strippeddown

When I was a little girl I loved using my imagination and pretending to have a life that wasn’t real. A fantasy life of sorts. I would pretend picnics so my belly would be full. I would pretend to be a doctor to fix my own illnesses and help cure my sick baby brother. I would pretend to be LeAnn Rhymes on a stage with a crowd full of people cheering me on. I would make all sorts of pretending dinners with play-doh and leftover taco bell sauce packets (Mild to be exact… still my fav.) I had a lot of health complications. Mentally & Physically that I would keep to myself so I wouldn’t have to go to a real doctor or put that stress on my hostile parents. I thought if I just pretended to cure it myself then all was fine. Eventually, it wasn't fine anymore. My nervous system freaked out on me. Cold air burned my skin and steaming hot water was the only thing that put me to sleep. It would be nice to say that I had the most amazing parents who cared for me and loved me unconditionally who worked together to give me the best life ever. It would be nice to say that  I recovered quickly with zero long-term effects… I wish I could say that that time in my life passed and I eventually healed and we all lived happily ever after. It would be a great ending to my story, right? 

I cant. It’s not true. I somehow made it the truth over the years hoping I could mold my memories into good ones to avoid the reality of it all. That made things worse. The point of this story is to show you all that your past plays a HUGE roll in your future and could possibly be the answer to your problems today. Even those things you cant possibly remember as a child (so many years ago) are the reasons why you are the way that you are as an adult. My questions that cannot be answered are WHY? Why did my nervous system freak out, to begin with? The answer I always get is “no one knows.” Something traumatic happened. Too young for me to remember but enough knowledge seeped through over the years of me trying to remember, to know that it could have been prevented. My anxiety was triggered as a child and it has never been tamed. My stress levels are uncontrollable and always have been. My childhood was awful and my sweet memories are fake. I remember seeing my father scream in my mothers face and then take it out on me when she finally had enough to leave. I remember watching my mom scream and cry because all she wanted was for someone to love her as much as she proved her love to them. I remember good days too but they don’t overpower the bad. I would keep my ‘sickness’ a secret to prevent fights between my parents. I would make pretend dinners for myself to prevent having to tell my mom or dad that I was hungry because I didn’t want them to fight or argue about not having groceries. I would pretend to be famous to escape the fact that my parents couldn’t and would never be able to provide a normal life for me and my one younger sibling at the time. 

After my illness got too bad and outed me to my parents without my approval one night… they fought each other and blamed one another because one of them didn’t see it sooner. Again, another fight that was my fault. They finally agreed on ONE thing. I needed a real doctor. I remember being at UCLA for over a month. I remember the drive to LA. I was sweating and fading in and out of what I thought was a deep uncontrollable sleep. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I woke up for a few seconds a couple of times. Once to my mom telling me we were almost there. Again in an ambulance being poked and prodded while a mask was being forced on my face. My mother’s tears falling on my hand as she held it on her cheek and consistently kissed each one of my fingers on the other hand. I remember my dad and my mom both crying at a window before I was shoved into a huge, loud spaceship looking machine. (I now know it was an MRI). The rest is all black and white. I still don’t know what was wrong with me. I still don’t know why it happened. My dad (to this day) tells me he isn’t sure and even the doctors were baffled. “They had never seen that type of illness before but they knew it was your nerves”. Still no help.

A few years after that incident and a lot of abusive fights later,  my parents separated. I was heartbroken. I didn’t understand. I blamed myself and my sickness. My mom slowly became dependent on drugs to get through her days. She would sleep on the days she wasn’t high, leaving me in charge of managing life and raising my two younger siblings on top of school (Elementary). My father was the same person. Hateful but Loving. Non-existent yet, the Worlds best dad… all at the same time. 

I eventually accepted an offer to move away to another state with my older siblings and start school there for ONE year… My mother encouraged me to go while she sought help. Finally… Life was changing for the better and I was thrilled. Honestly happy that we were finally going to be a normal family when she got better and came to get me after the school year was over. 

 About 6 months after getting away from it all, I was happy, I was doing well in school, made new friends. I was able to be a real KID for once. My mom was finally getting clean, my dad moved on. Then, BOOM. My entire world came crashing down on me. I was told my mother passed away in a car accident. She was never coming to get me. I was never going to see her happy. Which means (what it felt like at the time) I will never be happy. THAT killed me inside. I’m still unaccepting of the situation and I can’t admit that its real. It killed my father. It killed my entire family when she died.                        “What now?”

I did what I had to do. I skipped grieving because I didn’t have the time. I came back home. Got through the funeral. I took on the role of “mom” to my younger siblings once more. I dropped out of school more than once (Before Highschool). I “rebelled” in the eyes of my elders in order to allow myself to play the role I had no choice but to take on. I gave myself no choice because I always came last. My family always came first, to me. I did what I thought I should do considering the circumstances. Its what I had to do for them. Everyone needed me and I wasn’t going to let MY sadness take away from those who needed me MOST. Life went on. I struggled hard. Kept it a secret. Faked a happy that could never exist. 

Now that I am older. More aware. More intuitive. I realize that I needed someone too. I never got that someone… That’s why I have so many problems. Anxiety is UNREAL. Stress is UNREAL. LOVE is almost impossible for me to receive but somehow I have managed. My entire PAST and childhood is the answer and reason behind all of my emotional and mental instability as an adult. My extreme obsessive-compulsive disorder that forces me to make sure EVERYTHING is in place to prevent anything from getting messed up or misplaced…To avoid having to fix it all over again after working so hard to get to where I am. After slowly and painfully accepting it all… NOW I will begin to heal. one. step. at a time. Abuse. Traumatic events. Empathy. Obligation. Anxiety. Stress. Responsibility. LOVE. I have control. It’s mine. I will find a way to tame my terror.

We’re back this week with two themes that go together like fire and ice!

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It seems like Harry is feeling good in his skin because we sure have been seeing a lot of it recently! The Fine Line era has blessed us with shirtless photo shoots and a whole video in which his oily torso is the star of the show. We’re only human, so @chasm2018​ will be spending Saturday, January 18 bringing you the best of Harry #StrippedDown.

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Next, @pinkharold​ will be turning the seasonal cuteness up a notch with a whole day of Harry in scarves. Over the years Harry has worn all kinds of scarves for both function and fashion. Get #BundledUp on Sunday, January 19 with Kay and Harry!