A beginner's void
It’s always been pretty hard for me to get up in the mornings. Not because I’m depressed, at least not right now, but simply because I love my sleep. But once I get my body to wake up, then I’d say I’m a morning person. It wasn’t always this way though; I wasn’t always this satisfied with myself.
A way that I like to describe what I’m talking about is, I used to walk around carrying a dark heavy gray cloud over me. And this cloud of mine followed me everywhere, literally. It didn’t matter if I was with my friends laughing, or cheering on the football team, or beating my PR at a track meet; it followed me everywhere. At the moment of these events occurring I thought I was okay, but I wasn’t okay. There was always a void inside me. It’s like I was an outsider. Now these moments that I’ve just described all occurred during high school, of course. Of course I didn’t think I was good enough to join the college cheer team or track team. Not only was I not good enough, but I also couldn’t afford it. I couldn’t afford it financially and scholarly either because of course, I’m not smart enough to get through college being a student athlete. At least this is what I thought during this time of course, things have changed a bit but I’ll get to that later. Now the reason I bring up the fact that this occurred during high school, is so you can understand this this was B.D.A.A. (before drugs and alcohol). And what do drugs and alcohol have anything to do with what I’m telling you, you might ask? Well, these were the instruments that I used to fill in that void I spoke to you about earlier.
I’m leaving the section of high school short and sweet because I don’t really want to focus on that now. What I can tell you about my upbringing, is that I’m kind of tired of talking about it really. I mean yeah, I was an adolescent and did adolescent things. My family was poor, dad wasn’t in the picture after I turned 12, or 11 I can’t remember. I was the eldest of 4, wasn’t the greatest big sister. But then again I never asked to be the eldest and have to take care of my 3 siblings. But that’s selfish of me to say so instead I like to take the blame of being the bad older sister (I’m still working on making amends about this part of my life). My mom is amazing but as a typical teenager and her young mother, we had our rough patches. Actually, a lot of the fucked upness in my head is because of her but I don’t like to blame her because she’s sacrificed so much and loves me so much so I just don’t find it fair to blame her, so once again I just blame it all on myself. I had a few heartbreaks, some that hurt like a motherfucker, but most I was able to get over really quick. I was pretty ugly, and by ugly I mean hideous. I’ve always been petite, but imagine a walking skeleton with some fucked up teeth and an annoying ass voice. That was me. Though what is weird is that other always seemed to be attracted to me, even some of the cutest guys in high school, I never understood why. And that about sums up my years up until college. There’s many details I left out but I don’t want pity and plus, everybody goes through some tough shit, so that’s pretty normal.
Okay so anyways, I moved out of my hometown as soon as I had a chance of course. I was still 17 when I graduated high school in 2014 and I moved to a city that is about 3 hours away from my hometown. It was perfect distance, not too close and not too far. Here I didn’t have to care for my 3 siblings, or have to be home. Here I could do whatever the fuck I want, and so I did. My first year in college I didn’t work. I took out loans for my tuition and board so I didn’t really have to. I was ecstatic to be on my own so I did exactly what any freshman would do, I partied. I partied a lot (also I had gotten braces and learned to style myself a little better so yeah I was having fun). When I was back home my mom was strict so I was never able to do anything or experiment so you best believe I went crazy in college. I learned here that I indeed, was a party girl. I just loved it so much. And you may, or may not, ask why the hell I loved it so much? Because I was getting drunk duh. I was getting drunk, hammered, plastered, fucked up, you name it. At this point is was only alcohol because I didn’t know where I could possibly get drugs from, and plus I had told myself that I would never do drugs. I had gotten high maybe 3 times before but I had been a little bitch all 3 times, paranoid and all. So anyways, the reason I loved getting drunk was simple. When I was intoxicated, I didn’t feel this sadness inside of me. This feeling of insecurity, of not being good enough, of being useless, worthless, of being a nobody. And so I just kept getting drunk because I wanted to feel happy. When I was drunk I didn’t care what anybody else thought about me. But most importantly, I didn’t care what I thought about myself. I loved it, I loved this new lifestyle. I didn’t feel like an outsider anymore because that same void I spoke about earlier, it was now filled, with liquor in my veins.
To be continued...
