Myself – the Disappointment.

Today I feel sad. Well, maybe not sad. Let’s say I feel disappointed. I am disappointed in myself. I make the slightest mistake and suddenly I feel like I’m caught in a whirlwind of chaos.

It brings me to the constant question of “why do we hold ourselves to such high standards?”. Like if someone else makes a mistake, they’re easily forgiven. But when I make a mistake, I, myself, am the hardest to forgiven.

I think a lot of the time we have this invisible load that we carry, kind-of like a suitcase or a bag. It’s filled with the things that we deal with and think of everyday. For some, this invisible load is light, and filled with happy memories and wisdom. For others the invisible load is heavy, and filled with regret and misery.

I’ve never been one to just simply ‘get over things’ easily. Especially when those problems are ones caused by me. Like I feel that the rest of my life I owe someone else for the minor problems I may have caused. And I feel like they hold a grudge against me for doing so. Some, may call this neurotic, others, may call it exaggerating. I, call it a part of my personality. A part which can be handy to others, and a part which can be harmful to myself. I just need to learn how to control it.

Usually I end these posts with something inspiring or motivating. But this is my blog – an inside look into my life and my world. And sometimes my life and my world isn’t always inspiring or motivating. So I’m sorry about that today, but today I am sad, and I need inspiration and motivation.

A History Lesson on Me

I talk a lot about the fact that I’ve faced many challenges in life. Most, I faced alone. But I realise that I’ve never revealed what actually happened.  You all probably perceive my accidents as my fault, or a victim of bullying. But get rid of any pre-existing thoughts you had about me, because the truth is awaiting.

I always thought that living in Australia meant that I was safe. That because we have laws to abide by, that I was protected. I used to think I was safe. But I wasn’t.

I was your average thirteen year old girl enjoying the last week of school before summer break. I remember eating lunch with friends on a table outside and we couldn’t wait to spend our holidays together.

But then, it happened.

Out of no-where this guy threw his jumper over my head. I couldn’t see and I couldn’t breathe. He grabbed my ankles and pulled me off the table onto the ground. He began kicking me to the ground, screaming at me saying that I deserved to die. He punched me repeatedly.

 I remember crying out for help! But no one came. My friends just watched and cheered him on, and the passers-by just kept on walking. Finally I was able to kick him off and run away.

But I couldn’t hide from it. It happened. It was real.

The next day I woke up with bruises all over my body. I remember covering my face in make-up, just so I could pretend that I was normal again.  I tried to tell myself it was all a dream, but it wasn’t.  I went to school that day and suddenly my friends weren’t my friends anymore. I was all alone. I just wished I could have turned back time to yesterday when everything was perfect. But I couldn’t.

I was in a very dark place, I felt guilty. That it was my fault. I lied to my parents to make them believe I was okay, but I wasn’t. I was lonely. I was depressed.

I used to cry myself to sleep every night. At least once a week I had dreams, well, nightmares really, that he was coming back to finish the job. In these nightmares he would come back to kill me, or to rape me. But in these nightmares I was no longer a victim. I used all of the strength that I could find inside of me, and managed to finally fight back. I remember one particular dream where I was being sexually assaulted, I found a pair of scissors and stabbed him multiple times in the chest until I was covered in his blood. I woke up screaming and crying. Unable to catch my breath. I had scars all over my body and somehow managed to scratch deep into my skin in my sleep. I turned my bed-side lamp on and my body was covered in my own blood.

This happened at least once a week. But the worst part was that in the nightmares I was fighting back, but when I woke up, I was fighting for my survival.

When I was at school, I could hear his laugh echoing in the corridors. His face, was everywhere I turned. It was a struggle getting from one classroom to another. Thinking that was bad enough, the constant reminder that I was a loner, that I had no friends seemed to constantly linger in my mind. I made my way, sometimes walking home for lunch, other times, reading in the library. You could call me your average nerd, I’m not ashamed of that. But what I am ashamed of is the way that I felt victimised, weak.

At home my sisters used to tease me. But it was worse than usual. They used to fight me and leave me with more scars. I tried laughing it off, but sometimes it was just too much to handle. They used to tease me about not having any friends. My sisters always had friend, one in particular, was lucky enough to be ‘popular’. Something I was always envious of. When they teased me saying that no one liked me, or nagging me to invite friends over for a sleepover, it made me even more depressed because what they were saying was true. 

After a year of hiding it, a year of being friendless and alone, I told my Mum. And that was the turning point for me. My Mum was amazing. She helped me see a councillor, or two, or three. I was able to recover slowly, but surely. And once I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Severe Depression – needing medication, Anxiety and Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and the possibly having Borderline Personality Disorder, it became easier to label my demons and to fight them for good.

This changed my life forever. This was the turning point, the cornerstone. But, I believe that everything happens for a reason. That something good must come out of this. And it has. I can promise you that.

I’ve been rebuilding myself by helping others to see the light in the dark tunnel.  I immersed myself in organisations like the White Ribbon Foundation which advocates for Violence against Women to stop. However I felt as though that wasn’t enough. That’s when I became the youth advocate for the Board of Mental Health (mifsa). It made me feel empowered because I was able to help others who were struggling, just like I was.

Someone once said that:

“You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice.”

I never really gave much thought to it, until now. You see, I had to depend on myself. I was my rock, my own protector. I was my friend, I was my company. Can you imagine what a year of loneliness does to a young girl? It made me grow perspective. It made me thankful.

So five years on and what’s changed? Well I am free of my demons. I no longer suffer from a mental illness. I am a completely different person from the girl I used to be. I am proud of my achievements. I never thought it was possible. I never thought in five years’ time that I would be this successful. 

So I’m glad this happened to me, because now I have the strength to get through anything. And if you’re out there fighting your own demons, I know that you will have the strength to get through it too.

The Wheels on the Bus Go

At some point, almost everyday, I ride on the bus. Whether it’s to Uni, or to work, or to see a friend. 

If you’re ever wondering where I do my best writing, it’s always on public transport. It’s the one time of the day where I’m not rushed. I’m just still. And suddenly, for a moment, the whole world stops. It’s the thirty minutes in my day, on my bus ride, where I can finally breathe.

I like the bus drivers. Especially the one I had last Tuesday… He actually waits until people are seated on the bus before continuing to drive. I quite enjoy not falling over. That’s always a highlight of my day. I like how the bus drivers wave to each other. There’s something really special in a two-second wave, like it symbolises friendship. An unspoken bond, that whilst is gone in an instant, makes a girl like me feel happy. 

Sometimes whilst I’m on the bus, I like to think that I can read people. I watch each person get on the bus, and I look down into their eyes – I look right into their soul as they step onto the bus. It reminds me that everyone is so different and unique, in their own beautiful way, and sometimes the most basic gestures, such as body language, can tell a thousand words. 

I like watching people on the bus during peek hour. You know, when it’s so busy that everyone has to sit next to a stranger if they’d like a seat. We sit next to these strangers thinking of how different they must be to us. We sit in silence. No one says a word. No one has the courage to make the first move.

But – I do. 

I like meeting people. I like hearing their stories. You never know who you’re going to meet. It’s funny how we live in a city where we don’t speak to the person sitting next to us on the bus, because we are so scared, thinking that they are different from us. But from all of the people I’ve spoken to, I’ve worked out that we’re not so different. In fact, I’ve actually made some friends on the bus. I made friends with the elderly woman who needed help getting up from her seat, I made friends with a lady who happens to live on my street and I made friends with a woman from Darwin who happens to have traveled to Timor-Leste, and we talked about the beautiful country. 

Once upon a time I used to be shy. I used to put my bag on the spare seat next to me. But after a good hard look at myself, I began to think about the people I could meet. You never know who you’ll get to know. And you might be surprised. You might get along and find that we’re all not so different from each other. We all have individual stories which are just as important as the person sitting next to us, but sometimes they just want someone to  listen and tell them it’s going to be okay. And isn’t that what we all want? 

“But if you look closer, you might see someone like you, or someone like you. Someone trying to find their way. Someone trying to find their place. Someone trying to find their self. Sometimes it seems like you are the only one in the world who’s struggling, who’s frustrated, unsatisfied, barely getting by. But that feeling’s a lie. And if you just hold on, just find the courage to face it all for another day, someone or something will find you and make it all okay. Because we all need a little help sometimes – someone to help us hear the music in their world, to remind us that it won’t always be this way. That someone is out there. And that someone will find you” – One Tree Hill

The Difficulties of Missing

“I miss you”

Three such simple words that we say so often. Sometimes, we miss people who are no longer with us. Sometimes, we miss people who we rarely see. And other times we miss people that are such big parts of our lives, that the second they leave our hearts ache.

No matter which type of missing, we’ve all experienced it at some point in our lives. For some, it might be harder, by dealing with the death of a loved one. For others, a long distance relationship can feel like they are in a completely different world. For others like me, I miss my partner the second he leaves my arms.

Yet we usually associate missing someone with a negative emotion. Like missing someone is just so terrible and you wish that you could be with them all of the time.

I once heard a quote that explains it so perfectly,

“It’s hard missing someone, but if you miss someone that means you’re lucky. It means you had someone special in your life, someone worth missing.”

I think of all the people I miss. I miss my Dad. I miss my sisters. I miss my grandparents. These are people that live a five hour drive away from me. I miss my Grandpa Des who I only knew for a short time. I miss the fact that he missed out on my life, and I missed out on getting to know him better. I miss my little sister Evanette in Timor-Leste, who I would give my life for.

But then I think of how fortunate I am to be surrounded by such inspirational and amazing people. I am lucky to have a family that whilst annoys me, loves me. I am lucky to have supportive friends. And I am extremely lucky to have a boyfriend as perfect as mine.

But although I spent my alone time crying for a little girl that might not even remember my name, I am blessed to know her. I am blessed that she is the biggest part of my life. I am blessed that in the morning she is the first person I think about, and the last person before I rest my eyes. One day I’ll see her again. I am certain of that. But until then, I will acknowledge the fact that I am lucky to miss Evanette, for I am blessed to know a little girl like her, who ultimately gave me the biggest gift of all.

I know how hard life can get. You might think I’m just an 18-year-old girl who knows nothing about life. The first part is true, but, I’ve experienced life in it’s harshest of forms, and most beautiful of realities. All I ask of you out there is to think about those that you miss. Then think about how different your life would be without them there in the first place. Do you consider yourself lucky? Good. You should. You are lucky.

What to do when hopeless?

I often get people asking how I have so much hope in my life. Of course, my past experiences have changed and shaped me into the person I am today. But something which somehow gets me through the darkest of days, is music. I’ve been told that music heals the souls. It’s been proven that music can help (and heal) cancer patients. Music is also used as an unspoken language which can connect every soul together. To me, music is a glimpse of hope. For those of you out there who don’t believe in magic, I can assure you that you are wrong. I’ve seen what music can do to people – like the students I taught singing lessons to last year, the children in Timor-Leste when I gave them ukulele’s and taught them how to play, or even the day I wrote my first song. Music has the power to heal you, even if you don’t know it, or don’t believe in it.

I’d like to share my (current) favourite song with you. It’s quite deceptive. You see, it sounds like a sad song, and trust me, I know that the chord progression indicates this indeed, but the words are magical. The words are healing. This song gives me a little bit of hope in myself. Knowing that we are constantly judged in a world where people are cruel, can be one of the toughest things in the world. But every single time that I listen to this song, my faith in myself grows a little bit stronger, and I feel as though although everyone else in this world is judging me, that I can rise above. I am better than that.

Go On My Child by Michelle Featherstone

Don’t hang your head low ’cause I can’t see your face
in your reflection I see your beauty embrace
and when the light shines bright to show you your way
do not be weary don’t turn your head away

so let the critics look upon you with a thousand eyes
and let their tongues do their judging and criticize
and you just sit here before us and reveal your life

go on, go on my child
go on, go on my child

your soul is aching and it’s dying to be heard
this might be painful but consider the worth
and when you feel like there’s nobody on your side
they will embrace you with a radiant smile

so let the critics look upon you with a thousand eyes
and let their tongues do their judging and criticize
and you just sit here before us and reveal your life

go on, go on my child
go on, go on my child

so you wanna give up and you can’t find strength
but I believe that you will make it in the end
so you wanna step back and you want to retreat
but I believe that there ain’t nothing you can’t be
nothing you can’t be

don’t feel so naked I am the blanket of hope
your words are life rafts and they keep us afloat
and when this long painful journey comes to an end
they will be touched by the message
the message you’ve sent

so let the critics look upon you with a thousand eyes
and let their tongues do their judging and criticize
and you just sit here before us and reveal your life

go on, go on my child

I think this song is about standing up for yourself. I think this song is about strength. I think this song is about being judged. I think this song is about courage. But most importantly, I think this song is about me.

You see, not too long ago, I was a completely different person. I was a person I am ashamed of. I cared more about what others thought about me, that somehow I forgot who I really was. Eventually I became a no-one. I had no friends. Not even my family liked me. I was in a very dark place, and it took me a while to set myself free, but I did it. It wasn’t easy, no body ever said it was. And I did it by myself. But I had the once in a lifetime chance to re-invent myself. So I did. And I’m proud of the person that I’ve become.

But that doesn’t mean there hasn’t been days where I’ve made mistakes – gee, every single day I fall short of the person I want to be. But this time – I’m doing it for me – and that’s what matters. Every day I face struggles, no matter how big or small. But what matters is the way I treat myself. I will not be pushed on the sidelines. I am in charge of my own self-worth. You don’t define me. Your words don’t hurt me. I have dreams, aspirations, goals and achievements that I am going to reach, and nothing will get in my way, and you know why? Because I’ve got faith. But when I don’t have faith, I turn my ipod on, and I search for faith.

Somehow the words I need to get me through the day always seem to find me. 

Believe in yourself today, for who knows, you may be able to re-invent yourself into the person you’ve always dreamed of being. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKqAvLH8Bd0