Dear Mom,
Mother’s Day has come and went, and I have been grappling with the guilt of not having written something worthwhile to you. As a matter of fact, most of my silence has been out of a necessity to sort through what is genuine guilt, and an interpretation of my insecurities. Due to some personal matters that I am not yet in the best headspace to talk about has led me to do a lot of self reflecting.
After your loss, I became a very self aware person. The years of trials and tribulations have really given me a unique perspective into the world around me, as well as myself. I can tell you with full confidence that I am aware of what is causing my anxiety, and depression. I can even tell you, with accuracy, what triggers my PTSD and how I can calm myself out of a spiral of unproductive thoughts.
I’ve been plagued by the statement “What are you even doing here?” by a therapist that spoke to me during my time in Bellevue Psychtrict’s facility. I’m sure you’re thinking they were incredibly unprofessional, but honestly, they were most likely just stunned.
They asked, “So, why do you think you harmed yourself?” In which I replied, as a fifteen year old of course, that I was drowning in the sorrow of having lost my mother at a critical time.
I was just going into remission from a very scary illness, and I was tossed back into society as if I was a part of it for the year and half it took to cure me. Then my guardian, who lavished us with promises, and made me feel supported during a trying time in my life, up and abandoned me once she squeezed out every dime she could – and got me kicked out of the only home I knew. I was made to be a problem child. The building that practically raised me suddenly felt as though it was filled with nothing but strangers. I was left to pick up the pieces of my life after someone I trusted ripped everything out from under me.
I did try to explain to them that I had a lengthy conversation with my best friends after they discovered what I had been doing. I had my reality check before being admitted, I just had the wherewithal to explain myself as well.
I won’t say that I have perfected my approach to analyzing myself, but that is what has led me to a few weeks, if not months, of self reflection. My projects have been interrupted by something like this before, and while I know the fix, it just isn’t something I can feasibly do. Not where I am at now.
So I’m doing what I always do, I’m faking it until I make it.
Projects distract me the most. I do have a bad habit of piling too much onto my plate, but I am no longer in retail. I can tackle my passion projects at my pace, and honestly, I haven’t felt excitement in this way in a very long time. I only wish you were here because I can’t imagine what sort of advice you would give me…
Being self aware isn’t always a comfort. I’m struggling with a lot of self doubt, and insecurities regarding myself, and what I can do. It doesn’t help that I’m ashamed at how much I missed out on being scared. However, my determination was reinvigorated mostly by the affection and support I have been receiving from my friends. They made me see how much fight I still have in me, and in return, I want to succeed in order to show my support to them.
And I know what you’re going to say. I’m far too kind, and far too enthusiastic to take care of others over myself, but if you were here, you would take care of them too.
Besides, I’ll benefit from it. You’ll see.
In my silence, I started attempts to conquer my fear and anxiety about being on camera. I started this blog with every intention of writing to you, and addressing my estranged emotions, but we both know that I am financially struggling. In an era of social media and influencers, I figured that I shouldn’t be so afraid to post about myself anymore. If I could offer inspiration to someone, anyone, that there is hope if you look hard enough – then I accomplished something worthwhile in life.
However, we can’t pretend that I don’t need money. I can’t inspire anyone from the grave, as dark as that sounds, and I am not ready to lay down, and give up just yet.
Every video I post to my tik-tok has caused some panic to creep up and fill me with so much self doubt. I’ve been told that I am beautiful, but it is a foreign concept to me after years of comparing myself to girls who are considered ‘average’. I don’t know my rating, and honestly, I don’t want to know – but in my mind, I have already decided it is low to the ground. It is getting easier to disregard my face while I post, however I am most comfortable whenever I wear a mask.
The only feature I like about myself is my eyes, so it works.
My youtube will be me in all my natural beauty (/sarcasm), and for that, I am more than likely going to spiral into a panic attack – so with any luck, being surrounded by my friends will provide me with the help I need to brave through it. I’m going to tell our story to the world, and share your photos. Given how much I look like you, and Ama, I’m willing to sacrifice my comfort in order to show off my family. At least I’ll have a way for the universe to know you as I have known you all my life.
If I can be honest though, I don’t know where to find my confidence, and despite how I’m presenting myself, I have no idea what I’m doing – but people have made it by doing a lot less than what I’m intending to do, so it has to work in some way…. Right?
And in this way, my art has an identity of its own – because I was first going to mix these two content topics, but it has never felt right deep inside to do it that way. One aspect of me will completely overshadow the other, and the more I share with others about myself, the more I’m realizing that what I survived wasn’t ‘no big deal’.
Nobody should have betrayed either of us, as this was not the life you had intended for me, and this was not the life I had in mind at fifteen.
Maybe I can finally get some justice for us, hm? Cause nobody really helped us when it all happened.
Whatever happens, however it happens, the only thing that is important to me is living to honor you.
And out of spite.
New Game; Press StartJune 16, 2024
I forgot your favorite cake flavorJune 10, 2024
There’s Always a HeroJune 1, 2024
Inspired for OthersMay 29, 2024
Apologies for the SilenceMay 1, 2024
The Celebration You DeserveMarch 13, 2024
The Perks of Being A Cancer KidMarch 10, 2024
My Heart needs a few days….February 26, 2024
My eyes are always wide openFebruary 16, 2024
Comments