Never forget how far you have come. Never. Sometimes in the dead of night, when your mind wanders, when your brain is working against you, try to remember; you are strong. I have dealt with my demons more times than I can count. I have been to therapy, I have spoken my fears aloud, and I have been kept awake at night reliving my nightmares in my head. I know that I have allowed myself to heal. I know that I am stronger now, and that I do not let the weight of the past eat me alive anymore. But even after I have forgiven my enemies, and even after I have forgiven myself, the nightmares still come back. Sometimes even the flashbacks return out of thin air. I am happier now, I am healthy; mentally and physically. But I can still hear his voice in my head. I can still remember what it felt like to be pinned to the floor. I can remember feeling sick to my stomach. Sometimes I still feel sick to my stomach.  I remember everything without wanting to. Even after I have healed and let everything go, I haven’t forgotten. Everyone tells you to forgive and forget. They say it like the two go hand in hand. But it isn’t that simple. Especially when it comes to this. Especially when it is attached to a severe wound. This is something I could probably never forget. Believe me I want to forget. I have moved on. But I cannot. What happened to me has shaped me in more ways than one. No matter how far I go in my life, that fact will always be there glaring at me from the corner. But I will not let it control me anymore. I have forgiven. So the only thing I can do is shut it out or talk about it until I am okay again. But never will I forget how far I have come. I will not let it anchor me down again. I am not a victim anymore, and I intend to keep it that way.

I reflect too much on the past more than I’d like to, but lately I have been thinking about an abusive relationship that I used to be in. I think about how my ex-boyfriend seemed fairly normal. In the beginning he seemed laid back and patient. It boggles my mind how quickly everything went from being peaceful and carefree to walking on eggshells and crying every day with him. I mean where did it all go wrong? Did I make him this way? I always end up blaming myself for things out of my control, but I have to play with the thought that maybe I had a part in this. I mean in the beginning he was okay. Later on I found out that most of the issues he had stemmed from his parents who were screw ups themselves. He had a lot of mental health issues too. Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Anger Issues, Borderline Personality Disorder, ADHD, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He was obsessive and very possessive of me.

He had to see my phone and who I was talking to at all times. I wasn’t allowed to talk to any males. He was suspicious of my coworkers. He always got mad when I would have to work or whenever I would leave work late. He was constantly accusing me of cheating and lying. He used to tell me that other “people” would find me lying about where I was or who I was with. I never understood that, because when I wasn’t with him, I was home. I was too afraid to talk to anyone else or even be caught talking to anyone else. He got angry so easily. He would always fight with me and call me names. He used to say that I thought that I was too good for him and that I was always “downsizing” him. He always threatened to beat up my ex or even go so far as to threaten to tell the person who violated me where I was.

Once he was so angry at something that someone had told him (I have no idea what), and he wanted to talk to me. At the time I was at work and I didn’t want to deal with whatever it was. He waited outside my place of work for four hours in the freezing cold, before finding a ride to go off himself. Someone caught him and he was hospitalized. He was forced to see a therapist and the therapist had told him that it was my fault and that I’m toxic. I didn’t understand and I still don’t. I took care of him and obeyed all his orders. I was lonely and afraid and hurt all the time. Whenever he was mad he would shout at me, push me, hurt me, threaten me, laugh at my tears, throw my things, and or damage my possessions. Once he threatened to beat up my father. Eventually he cheated on me with someone I knew and lied to them about us not being together. I was angry. How could he always accuse me of cheating and then he goes and cheats on me? I felt sick. I wanted space from him and he came to my work when I got off. He didn’t want to give me space. I hid in my friend’s car until my friend got off work. He went inside the building searching for me, he looked in every car to find me. I had never felt so scared in my life. Except I had. Every time he was with me I felt scared.

He always had this crazy look in his eye like he was on drugs and he wanted nothing more than to kill me. I never knew what he was thinking. He took everything from me with force. He forced me to have sex with him, and if I didn’t he would threaten or hurt me. That’s why I say if you’re with someone, you are NOT obligated to have sex with them. Boyfriend, girlfriend, friends with benefits, fiancé, fiancée, husband, and or wife it doesn’t matter. Rape is rape. And he raped me, more times than I could count. Except for feeling scared, trapped, and crying all the time; I felt dead inside. It’s a miracle that I got out of that relationship because it was far from easy. There was a time that I did love and care about him. But I think that he used that and that he never truly loved or cared about me. Because if he did, he wouldn’t have done all those cruel things to me. He never would’ve hurt me physically, emotionally, mentally, or sexually. A lot of people think that, “If you’re unhappy just leave.” Unfortunately it is almost never that simple with unhealthy relationships. I feel bad for the people who are still stuck in toxic and abusive relationships. But I implore you to seek for help and GET OUT! You never know what could happen. It is possible. I am so happy with where my life is right now. I don’t even want to think about what would happen if I never got away. Talk to someone, get help, and get out. You deserve to be happy and in a HEALTHY relationship. I might always wonder what happened to us, but I am so glad I am away from that and from him. I hope he is better and happy…I hope he knows what happened between us was wrong. And I hope when he is ready to genuinely love someone he will be better, happier, and healthier. But I also hope I never see him again. 

Life is ever changing, and we are all always changing. We may not feel like we are, but we are. We change our thoughts, our actions, and even our personalities through time. We change what we want through time as well. I was a little girl with the ambition to be famous through anyway possible. I wanted my name to be known, I wanted to set an example to everyone that the world isn’t as bad as it seemed. I wanted to be that good influence. I wanted to smile every day, I wanted to reach out to others and be kind. 

When I was a preteen I just wanted to fit in with my friends in anyway possible. Even if that meant trying not to be weird, trying to be someone else. Someone I wasn’t sure of, unless my friends wanted me to be a certain way.  

When I was a teenager, I wanted nothing more than to feel wanted and loved. I wanted to be understood. I never wanted anything more, I just was so desperate for someone’s attention that I ended up being vulnerable to someone who gave me the wrong attention and led to my downfall until I found someone who did actually love me. It wasn’t too long before that fell apart too.

Before college I managed to find someone to take care of. I wanted to take care of someone, so I could distract myself from my own problems. My panic disorder, my PTSD, my broken heart. I wanted to take all of his problems away, little did I know that he would add onto mine and use my weaknesses against me. Later on I figured out that he could never be helped and he didn’t want me to be helped either. 

So I went away to college. I presented myself with fake confidence, because I didn’t want anyone to know who I was. I did’t want the past to catch up with me. So I did what I wanted whenever I wanted. I was reckless and hated myself for it. I came home often seeing the worried look on my mother’s face, and then I wanted to change and be better for her because she does so much for me. I dropped all my friends and decided to just focus on my schooling. 

I started a job and intended on staying friendless and boyfriend-less, until I met my husband. After that I just wanted to have fun and be happy. 

We got married and all I wanted was to be a good wife and finish school. Soon after, I got pregnant and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. I have everything I could ever want. After my 14th birthday, every birthday wish I have ever had was to be happy. When I met my husband he made my heart so happy, but when I met my son, my heart was overflowing and complete. Now all I want to be is a great mom, and an even greater wife. 

I don’t care that I’m not famous. I don’t care if I have a lot of friends or not. All those things that I thought were important, aren’t anymore. Everything that I find important is with me every day. As we mature so do our desires. I am very happy with my life. Sometimes my depression will take me down, but I am grateful for all that I have. I am grateful for all the blessings that God has given to me. And I will work hard every day to take care of the people that matter the most to me. 

Everyone warns you that when you are a mom everything changes. Your relationship and your perspective on things. But no one tells you that you lose yourself along the way. I can’t remember what I was like before my baby. Maybe a little carefree? I’m not sure. But I know that I am definitely not the same. That makes me feel better and worse. My mother in law watched my son while my husband and I went out on a date. It killed me to be away from my son. Something about being a new mother was making me feel crazy. My husband looked at me while I scrolled through pictures of my son on our date and told me that he missed me. I knew instantly what he meant. He was not talking about how he misses spending time with me. He missed who I was before I was a mom.

He missed the version of myself when I was not over-obsessive of my son, who was not hell-bent on doing everything perfect, the me who did not cry all the time because I was tired, the me who could laugh at anything and everything. He missed me and I missed me. But how do I get back? Did I want to go back? All of these worries were swirling in my head next to the other million worries I already kept safe there.

I have been taking my anti-depressants every day like I am supposed to, in order to stay at least a little sane. But those pills can only do so much. Sometimes I don’t even feel like they are really working at all. I don’t feel so tired anymore. But I do feel irritable, moody, depressed, sensitive, and lonely. I feel unbelievably lonely. I skipped a day from taking my medicine and I felt everything at once. I felt the weight of my overwhelming depression. It was like a heavy rainstorm, and when I took my medicine, the pills were like an umbrella. They were like an umbrella in the way that it shielded me from most of my depression, but I could still feel little bits of it. It was unbearable. I just want to feel like myself again. I’m always feeling guilty, like I am doing everything wrong. I feel like an unfit mother and at times I feel like my marriage is falling apart. I feel so far away from my husband, my depression makes me doubt his love for me. It makes me feel jealous of his female coworkers. I know deep within my heart he would never leave me or cheat on me, but my depression tells me a different story. 

I’m not like this. This isn’t me…That day I missed out on taking my pill, I was on the bed with my son. He was staring at me with his beautiful doe eyes and I smiled back with tears streaming down my face. I didn’t want to hurt. I was in so much mental pain and it was taking a toll on me, but I didn’t want him to know I was in pain. I don’t want him to see me like that. I know he is very young, but I don’t ever want him to see me cry. I want to be strong for him. I want to be okay for him. I want to be myself again. I want to be a great mother. I want to feel close to my husband again. I want to stop doubting myself and everything around me that I cannot control. I know that day will come where I will feel okay again. I just hope that it is soon. Until then I will keep working on myself and take everything one day at a time.

Today I saw a joke (meme) posted on Facebook about how hard it was to achieve all the dreams you stepped out of high school to try and accomplish. It really is unbelievably hard. But I think sometimes we set ourselves up for failure. Hear me out first; okay usually when people make goals they set up a ton for themselves to accomplish. Maybe they are all different goals that don’t relate to one another at all, or maybe those goals are steps to the ultimate goal? If you are anything like me, I always tend to set multiple goals at a time of things I want to accomplish. Here they are:

• To obtain my master’s degree in psychology
• To improve my creative writing skills
• To finish the book I have been writing
• To become a counseling psychologist
• To be a great mom
• To eventually compete in WGI (World Guard International) color guard
• To be happy mentally and physically

I might’ve quoted this before, and if I did I apologize, but this is my favorite quote from any Nicholas Spark’s books. “It truly is a crime to believe that a person is more than just that, a person.” We may have many dreams, and we all just want to be happy and do what we love. But juggling school, work, hobbies, and any relationship we have is exhausting as it is. So here is what I suggest. I’m not going to say give up on your dreams or some of your dreams. I just want you to focus on one at a time. Focus all your talents and whatever free time you have to devote yourself to your dreams and your goals. One at a time. It is possible. Just don’t go crazy and try to knock them all out. You are one person and although you can do anything, you cannot do everything at once. So take your time and give it your absolute best with each goal you do and complete. You can do it, there is no deadline. Take your time and love every minute of your life. That is my advice to you. Good luck!

Today I want to talk about something that I personally believe is not talked about enough; Postpartum Depression. I am now a new mother of a handsome almost three month old . As a writer it is hard to describe the fullness of my heart and overwhelming love I have for my son in the most perfect of words. Just know that it is more than anyone can comprehend, even myself. The first day he entered this world was one of the happiest days of my life and also most exhausting. It was a day of rest and smiling at the beautiful blessing God created for my husband and I. But every day after that, was hard. It was not until the second day and every moment after leaving the hospital that I realized that I have no idea what I am doing. I knew the basics and was trying to practice them. Feed him, change him, hold him, burp him, and most importantly love him. Simple right? Wrong. I could not distinguish his cries. I did not know what he wanted or needed. And what was worse was the fact that if you were unsure, other people would tell you, “sometimes they cry to cry”. How was I supposed to know or fix that?

I tried my best, just like I do every day. But what do you do when you go through all the basic answers to crying? Feed him, change him, hold him, burp him, love him. Feed him, change him, hold him, burp him, love him. Nothing I was doing was soothing him. Nothing. He would not stop crying. He would stop for nothing. I did everything I could in a constant cycle. I was so tired and hungry and overwhelmed. I did not know what to do. I put him down in his bassinet and listened to his screams. I was told to walk away for a moment to collect my thoughts if need be. When I did that all I felt was guilt. I wept quietly and came right back. I tried to remain calm and put on a smile. I asked my baby in a pleading voice to stop crying and that everything is okay because I am here. Nothing I did worked. He just screamed louder.

I had to call my friend to come over and help me because I did not know what to do. She took awhile to come over and in that time of me waiting for her a lot of things happened. I put myself across the room from my crying son and started tugging my hair and sobbing uncontrollably. I fell asleep thinking of ways to get him to stop crying. In my sleep I dreamt about shutting him up for good. I dreamt of pressing the pillow to his face until he could not breathe anymore. Then he would stop crying and then I could sleep and everything would be okay. I woke up with a jerk and started crying again. I ran to the bassinet where my baby was to check if he was okay. Did I actually smother him? No. It was a dream. And although it was a dream it was the darkest moment of my life. I dreamt, no I thought about smothering my son. Me. I thought that. I was a monster. I don’t deserve to be his mother. I am unfit for this. I need to give him away and run away and end my life because how could I think that? How could I dream that? What was wrong with me? Why can’t I figure it out? Even now I am crying remembering that moment. It was a moment of darkness, shame and feeling crazy.

My friend finally came over and miraculously my son stopped crying and fell asleep. She hugged me and I cried on her shoulder. That’s when I knew I needed help. My husband came home later and all I could think was, ‘How am I supposed to tell him? What am I supposed to say?’ God love this man because he rocked the baby to sleep and hugged me tight. He told me everything was going to be okay and I was going to get help because I needed to be okay for my son. He massaged me and fixed up a warm bubble bath for me. He let me sleep a blissful 8 hours and in the morning we made an appointment to see my midwife who prescribed me with antidepressants. She told me that I was not crazy and almost every mom goes through this. She told me that I am not a bad mom, I am doing the best I can and will continue to do so. Postpartum depression is real and it is terrifying.

With my postpartum I had intrusive thoughts about how I am a terrible mother and I am not cut out to be a mom. Thoughts about the impossible. About things that were less likely to happen. I thought about every time we got in a car how we would all die or my baby would somehow die. I thought about a burglar breaking into our house while we were asleep and planting a bomb or stealing my baby in the dead of night. All of these ridiculous thoughts were in my head and coming at me nonstop. I thought about how if anything were to happen to my baby I would either go to jail or kill myself. Because there was no way I would want to live in a life without my precious angel. I would always get annoyed when people would tell me about postpartum depression and how if I have thoughts about harming my baby I need to tell someone. While that is important, all I could think of was, ‘Why would anyone think about harming their baby?’ I had incessant thoughts about something happening to my baby that was out of my control. I wanted to control every situation to make sure no harm would come to him. It’s a nice thought in its own way, but unrealistic. 

I didn’t understand PPD and sometimes I still don’t. But after awhile the thoughts wouldn’t stop. I thought about risking my life for him in any way I can. I thought about how my own life was meaningless without him even though I had the support and love of my friends and family. But that one day was all it took for me to understood what they talked about when those people said to get help if you have PPD. I never thought I needed help. I thought maybe if there was a chance for me to get a little bit more sleep then I would be fine. I was wrong. Every woman tells you to sleep when the baby sleeps. No one talks about SIDS or sudden infant death syndrome and how every mother is terrified of that happening ESPECIALLY when they are sleeping. How could we sleep knowing it could happen any moment? I couldn’t. I used to take shifts with my husband every night to make sure he was okay. We sacrificed our sleep and mental health for reassurance, but it was making us crazier. By us, I mean me. Lack of sleep is a HUGE contributor to postpartum depression.

Postpartum depression is real and it is a real problem. If I did not get the help I needed I have no idea where I would be or what I would have done.  A lot of women are shamed for having it or taking medication for it, but they shouldn’t be. We aren’t bad moms. This is a common problem and we need to recognize it and get help and practice self-love. We are brave and fierce and loving women especially when it comes to our kids. Just like we believe our kids can do anything, so can we. I can’t say that I now know what I am doing. I can’t say that I have all the answers, but I know that I will be okay. Self-love and taking care of your mental health is so important. I cannot stress that enough. I was against taking medication for myself because I believed that I could handle it on my own and I was wrong. Ever since I started taking antidepressants and talking to others about how I was feeling, I have started to feel a lot better. I am mentally sane and able to take care of my son. I am able to have the patience I need and provide for him in any way I can. I am getting to know him and love him more and more every day. I can’t imagine staying in the dark about my PPD and suffering another day more. There are all kinds of help out there for people who understand what we are going through and who have been where we are at. Take medication, get counseling, spend time away from everyone and do what you want to do, go to mommy support groups. Do what you need to do to get better. You are not alone. I am so glad I know that for myself now. I am not a bad mother. I am not alone. As long as I try my best every day I will not fail my son. Never be afraid to reach out and ask for help. 

I find it so strange how time controls everything. Time goes fast and slow, it prolongs pain, and after a while it heals the pain you are feeling slowly. Sometimes we feel we are most vulnerable and may not go on, but after a long while you move on. And you look back and think about how far you have come from that low point in your life. That is how I am feeling today. There is such a big difference between the girl who used to cut herself and felt worthless. The girl who was tricked into trusting someone, who stole her innocence. The girl who held onto that pain and let him continue to hurt her. The girl who thought she would never escape that pain or the memory of him. The same girl whose dreams were haunted of him and the fear that one day he would come back and do it all again. The girl who felt like she was broken into a million pieces and that’s all that anyone else saw.  I am no longer that girl. I don’t let my nightmares, my fears, my memory of him control me any longer. He has no power over me anymore. I have come so far. I have come so far in all of my therapy sessions talking about that pain. I no longer let the past hold me back. I have progressed in making something of myself. I have two jobs, I am happily married to a man who knows what “no” means and respects everything I say, I am pregnant with a beautiful baby boy, and I go to college and learn everything that I can. He does not define me, my hurt from the past does not define me any longer because I do not let it. I am a hard worker, a student, a wife, and now a mother. It took all of six years for me to get where I am at today. To confidently say, that I no longer think of that time. I don’t look to the past anymore, there’s nothing I can change. No one can undo what has been done. But I am so much stronger because of it, and now I look to the future with happiness and hopefulness. That’s all I wish for in this life, and to everyone I meet. 

I walk around taking everything one day at a time

And there you are patiently waiting

You’re so close, I can’t breathe, I can’t think

All I see is you and your cautious eyes

Searching, but for what?

I take a step closer and you retreat

I freeze in my steps and you beckon me

Confused and haunted I stand still

My heart racing and my breath trying to catch up

And we stay like that.

Frozen and waiting for the other

Who will move first?

Please don’t go away from me

I bet that’s what you want me to say

I cannot return to a flame that once burned

You know you never leave my thoughts

I can’t allude you in my dreams

Please don’t go away from me

Our love was friendly fire

Of warmth that filled my desire, but

I cannot return to a flame that once burned

Cold days I awaited your return

Tears on my face

Please don’t go away from me

I wish I could hate you

I curse your name, I will and

I cannot return to a flame that once burned

Your love is tempting, but once pure

I yearn for you

Please don’t go away from me

I cannot return to a flame that once burned

Anyone who I have ever encountered will at any time given, admit that they bury their feelings deep inside themselves. There are many reasons why we hide our true feelings and thoughts. Maybe we don’t want to hurt those around us or simply because we don’t want to hear ourselves say it out loud. Bottling feelings away is not healthy. When we don’t speak up, we allow others to hurt us and cause damage to ourselves. Maybe we are too scared to say anything at all, because most times nothing good comes from it. Do not go with the safer option. I know it’s the easiest, but if you do not start telling people what you want, you will never get anywhere. So speak up and speak out. Nothing in this life is easy. So don’t make it harder by hiding in the shadows. Trust me.