After watching the Simone Biles Movie and seeing the #metoo movement all over I feel it is time to put this out there… I feel like a great disaster. I am so proud of myself for the things I have battled through. On a daily basis I go through cycles of loving myself and insecurities and I go through being happy and sad and mad and crying. I seem to go through emotions faster than most people and I get anxious extremely easy. I sometimes go off the deep end trying to protect myself from my feelings. The way I experience things is different. I’m positive yet when something negative happens I have close to no control over how heavily the bad outweighs all the good. I feel attacked by the little things and even greater by the big things. I haven’t always been like this though. I became a significantly different person at the age of 14. I was at the lowest point of my life and everything was difficult. Waking up and living with myself was a daily battle. I was pregnant for about 3 weeks. I didn’t say a thing to anyone for awhile. Then I broke down. I freaked out. I told the monster who made me go through the worst time in my life and he told me he didn’t know what I was talking about. Made me feel stupid and worthless like nothing happened and that I was crazy. But I’m not crazy he held me down as I froze in fear unable to move or speak. It was like a nightmare. The nightmare where you can’t scream and you wake up and jolt and don’t know what you are supposed to do now. I didn’t know what to do and I still don’t. I know that I have moved passed my anger and fear but that it still effects who I have become. But it is hard to live like nothing is wrong especially because my parents still don’t know til this day. They don’t understand why I am the way I am and it is so difficult. They don’t understand what is going on in the inside they just see the actions caused by it. I don’t like talking about these things but I sometimes get panic attacks not just over wrist holding and some other random things that remind me of that day but also when I go through simple normal girl things. Every month I am brought back to the day that I saw a little red sack with a fetus inside it in my laundry room toilet. The feeling of wanting to reach into the toilet and just hold it in my hands because no matter what It was a part of me. It was mine. To think that maybe if I would have read the label on that ibuprofen bottle and not have taken it because my stomach hurt maybe I could have a 6 year old son or daughter to look after today and everyday. The thought of where I would be now. But I am proud of what I’ve gone through and who I have become. Now all I need in live is to stay positive and feel loved, trusted, and respected.
— Survivor, age 20