#TBT ~ Where I’m From

#TBT ~ Where I'm From 1

TBT: Where I’m From

Welcome to my new series called “Throw Back Thursday”.  Each Thursday I’ll re-publish an old post from my previous years of blogging when I wasn’t much in a recovery-state-of-mind.  I’ll read the passage and compare how I was then with how I am now.

This new series starts off with a post I wrote on December 2, 2012.  This was an assignment I was given in college about writing where we are from.  We were given the opportunity to interpret the assignment any way we wanted, and some of the students wrote about a geographical place whereas I wrote about the environment in which I was raised.

The passage is entitled “Where I’m From”.  My comments about where I was then compared to where I am now follow the writing piece.

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“Where I’m From”

I am from scattered I love you’s and sometimes hugs
To frequent cursing and steady neglect
To the occasionally thrown salt shaker aimed at my head

I am from a scruffy bearded man who smells like whiskey and drugs
Where name calling “twit’ and “brat” are his least offenses,
leaving boo-boo’s and ouch’s on a too-young, too innocent heart.

I am from my mother’s adage:
Always buy quality
Never settle for less
You don’t need a man
I’ll give you a reason to cry

I am from no ma’am, yes ma’am
No, I’ll never do that. Yes, I’ll always do this.
Yes ma’am, yes ma’am, yes ma’am

I am from bullies and teasing and make-good threats
To empty swing sets, lonely lunches, and night-time sobs.
To the inheritance of silent screams from another splintered mind.

I am from sharpened razors, overdosing on pills,
And a growling stomach that says, “No, I’m not hungry.”

From trying desperately to forget
To no longer being able to remember

I am from self-deprecating thoughts and hope run dry
To hearing voices smashing through the echoes in my mind.
To a steady scream of “You’ll never even be close to good enough.”

I am from failures and mistakes, and what was I thinking?
To I’ll try again . . . just in case
To listening to the ONE who is slowly teaching me:

There is more to me than where I am from.

—————————————————————————————————–

I have enjoyed re-reading this piece because it reignites my hope.  It alludes to the abuse and neglect I endured as a child, the controlling and extremely strict nature of my mother, my self-destructive ways of coping, and never feeling good enough for anything.  However, the passage still reflects a little beacon of hope that I am learning from my therapist on how to be better than a past that does not define me.

I have progressed since I wrote this in December of 2012.  Though I still contend with low self-esteem, I think I’m moving further and further away from self-hatred and toward self-acceptance.  I don’t feel like fighting with myself anymore.

Thank you for reading!

I would love to see other people write a “Where I’m From” blog post.  If you do, please leave a link to it in my comments.  I am curious and would love to read what you write.  Thanks!
Becca

 

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Hey, y'all. My name is Becca, and I run this mental health website called Missing In Sight. I am a mental health warrior, battling stigma and discrimination right by your side. I created this blog to share my personal stories of pain, strength, and hope so you know you are never alone.

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