So I titled this MIA to mean "Missing In Action," But I'm struggling with bulimia type stuff and this specific eating disorder is referred to as MIA. . .Wow.

Anyways, I haven't been on the writing grind as much and it really *****. The reason being that I'm tired of writing about food!

That's all I have right now. . .

It's so difficult to go through the motions of life knowing that I'm a stereotype...
It's so difficult to have dreams of becoming "something" and then have them crushed...
It's so difficult to wake up daily terrified of making the smallest mistakes...
It's so difficult to be alive in this generation.

I want to be known for things other than being a foster kid once to becoming adopted to being chronically depressed to intentionally and unintentionally suicidal to being anxious everywhere. IN MY MIND.
I want to being an artist or a therapist or a musician.
I want my brain to know that it's okay to make mistakes.
I want to thrive in this generation.

Once upon a time, I hated myself...because I wasn't normal
Once upon a time, I starved myself...because I thought the number on the scale mattered more than getting energy to live.
Once upon a time, I use my body as a canvas of hate...because I felt like I deserved real pain.
Once upon a time, I really thought the world would be better without me...because I didn't like myself and I thought everyone else hated me just as much as I did.
Once upon a time, I lied...to protect those who were supposed to protect me.
Once upon a time, I was a victim to ****** abuse and never told a soul until I was given an ultimatum...because I thought I was going to be killed if I said something.
Once upon a time, I thought my life was normal...until I was shown what love was.

Telling my story over and over again never makes me feel awful...It usually means that I'm impacting someones life. I've always thought very low of myself until someone showed me what It was like to be a normal person. If I have to tell my story 100,000 more times before I die, I'll do it because I know that it changes lives.

I never actually thought that I would be in college...NEVER! I felt unworthy to follow my dreams. I felt discouraged by my own thoughts. I never thought that I would be an Aggie for Christ...but here I am after dreaming about being like the Aggies I met living at a children's home for over a year! I can testify! I can changes lives daily...I just have to make my brain calm down.

I'm not perfect: no one is, but I can say that I am a walking testimony of God's Wonderful and Merciful plans!!!

O-ut
L-ived
D-esire

Ever since I was a little girl, I never called anyone old.
I referred to older people as elderly.
One day, out of nowhere I decided that a person is "old" when they reach the age of 70.
My grandmother, who I call nana turned 70 last year.
Now I am morally allowed to call her old in my mind.
She thinks it's hilarious and she loved her mockery of a cake!

All jokes aside though, being "old" scares me. As I'm sure it scares many. To me "old" means; out lived desire. The desire to live becomes almost invisible; non existent. My mother is fighting two battles. Mental and physical. The mental aspect of her brain is fueled by her children's emotions and her physical pain. She is constantly worrying about her children and if they are okay mentally and physically. She has had her share of mistakes but she will always be my momma. Her physical battle consumes her whole body. Pain 24/7 with little to no relief. She is a strong women but because of her mental battle all her life, her body is that of an older woman. Medicine only goes so far and sometimes it feels like my prayers hit the ceiling and fall. My mom is not "old" but sometimes I feel like she "out lived desire." She continues to fight these two battles with a smile on her face [most days.]

Today you are 18,036 days old, but today, you are stronger, braver, and wiser than when you were 18,035 days old!!!

it's not always happy in my eyes
it's not always happy in my head
but I put a smile on and go through the day
fake it till you make it am I right
people always say they want a perfect life, a perfect love story
but I just want a life that is worth living for
you can take a picture of yourself and people will think you are the happiest person on the planet
when really its the opposite
you are crying behind closed doors
you can fule someone buy not saying one thing wrong

so when you think someone's life is perfect think about the things you don't see

It's hard to keep going when a tree fell in your way
That tree being fear
Fear that is encapsulating
Fear that paralyzes everything
I cannot move forward on my own
For the Lord has promised good
For the Lord will always provide
For the Lord is good
Sometimes the loneliness swallows me
Sometimes the guilt doesn't quite make sense
Sometimes I don't understand anything
This fear
This loneliness
This guilt
It all feels like I can't breathe
Begging for the Lord to breathe in my lungs
Begging to release the pressure and eliminate the evil
Begging for hope

I was taught by societal expectations that brothers are suppose to protect their little sisters.

I was taught to trust my brothers and to know that they would do anything to protect me.

My family was never normal though, so believing this made me look like an idiot.

I am the only daughter in a family with many boys.

I was so naive and stupid to believe the lies.

It's crazy that my brother who wasn't even around a lot is the one I trust the most.

I was five the first time anything ****** happened.

I had absolutely no clue what was happening and why I was being manipulated into doing.

And even crazier, the  predator was only about 7.

What!

I still to this day haven't told a soul about that night, but I remember it like it was yesterday.

I let it slip out of my mind thinking that it was normal.

From then, he made me do things for him and watch stuff with him that I didn't want to watch.

Everyday, I thought about him hurting me more.

I was 11 the next time.

I had a little more knowledge of what he was doing, but I was still intimidated by everything.

I knew though, that it actually wasn't normal and really should not have been something I had to go through.

I was home alone with him, and I just wanted to be in my room alone.

He was around 13 years old.

That was the first time he had threatened me with the "I'll tell mom" card.

I learned to not even think about telling my parents about what happened.

Thankfully he stopped messing with me for a while because I had moved in with my grandma.

Thank God that she let me.

I ended up getting taken away from my parents, living in an emergency shelter, living in a children's home, losing my dad, and getting moved in with a potential adoptive family before he hurt me again.

I was 15 when he sexually assaulted me in my adoptive family's home.

He had gotten kicked out of placements and came to visit to see if he could be adopted with us.

I didn't say anything because I knew that no one would believe me.

I ended up telling my adoptive parents because I was in so much physical pain.

They claimed that they believed me, but I knew they didn't.

They put all these restrictions on me after he had left and an investigation started.

I was questioned more that I thought I would need to be and I had two of the police investigators tell me that I made it all up.

I felt like I was just a burden to everyone at that point and no one knew all the details.

I wasn't given the chance to tell my story.

Years later, my whole family came up with reasons to justify what he did to me.

They said that he just wanted me to be prepared.

My brother that assaulted me wasn't the only one that was messed up.

My twin brother played a big part in everything too.

He knew that my attacker was going to do what he did to me.

Not only did he know, he told me he wanted to watch.

To this day, almost 5 years later, I have never been able to look at either of them the same way.

My mother still doesn't believe me, but she stopped caring about me years ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear mom,

I believed you. Why couldn't you believe me?

Dear R,

What did I do to you for you to take advantage of my body? Why did you hate me so much that you could do that?

Dear C,

Why did you want to see him hurt me? Why weren't you supportive?

Dears R & C,

Why didn't y'all protect y'alls little sister? I'm the only one you have!

Dear Me,

None of that was your fault! You didn't do anything wrong! Don't ever be afraid to ask for help when you are in danger. I'm here for you!

Love yourself!

Honestly, I'm not really sure what I'm feeling.
Anger.
Sadness.
Betrayal.
Shame.
Guilt.
Confused.
Numb.

That last one is weird. Feeling numb is like feeling so many emotions all at once, you're not sure what to feel.
Every time I need a friend to talk to they are too busy for me.
They're hanging out having the time of their lives with other friends or even better, they're drunk.
Sometimes I feel like people are too nice to me.
It's like they're super sorry for me.
I don't want people to feel sorry for me anymore.
It made me feel too comfortable and I don't want to constantly feel sorry for myself.
I'm too nice to people.
People that take my kindness and use it against me.
I've felt like I've been the problem all my life.
I am not the problem, but I still feel the pain.
I'm better than this.
I'm stronger than this.
It just hurts so much!
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I feel like I'm looking at a stranger.
I feel like I'm staring at the very definition of a dissapointment.
I don't know where I went.
I disappeared.
I'm getting so much better.
I don't want to go back!
I know that those who really love me will support me.
I feel so jealous sometimes.
Why can't I have some of the things others get so easily?
My brother and I just can't ever catch a break.
It's always something.
Sometimes I want to not feel the pain.
Sometimes I think about getting drunk so I can feel at ease just for a little while.
But I can't because I could easily become and alcoholic like my dad.
Sometimes I want to do the worst drugs so that I can "feel" okay, just for a little while.
But I can't because I could easily become an addict like my mom.
I love college!
I will continue to stay motivated and not let this pull me back into the darkness.
I want to stay happy and close to those who really care.
My heart is hurting.
I've been thrown to the wolves for my weakness'
Being ***** by my older brother and being told tonight that I "wanted" it.
That I "asked" for it.
I'm just in so much pain!
Will it ever end on it's own?
Everyone seems so ******* perfect!
Even though I know they are not.
I want to stop feeling so alone.
I want to seem perfect in other people's eyes.
I'm always the one who ******* up!
I'm always the problem!
I'm the weak one!
Mental illness *****!
Having major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, PTSD, and the newest diagnosis of bipolar all *****!
In a perfect world, only those who really love and support me would exist.
That would put me out of the world though because I hate myself more than anyone.
I've so much more progress in my life than anyone in my family.

It's been a couple nights sense my hatred and anger felt threatening.
I was asked if I was homicidal.
I said only slightly passive thoughts.
I could never hurt someone but the thoughts made me feel like I was an inch away from committing ******.

Dear Future You,
You're a badass, but please remember how you've changed and how you got to where you are now.

Winter reminds me of the many scars permanently embedded onto my skin. (Because I hated literally everything about existing, but couldn't not live.)

Spring reminds me of all those I've lost. (Because the universe thought to ironically place all the deaths in the same set of months.)

Summer reminds me of my many vacations to the ****** bin. (Because I couldn't go during the school year, that would be inconvenient .)

Autumn reminds me of the best time of my life. (Because I love school and I know that no one can take that away from me.)

sometimes holding on hurts more than letting go
sometimes crying is better than laughing
sometimes someone not being around is better than them being around and hurting you
and sometimes life is hard but it's just a battle that leads to a victory

a suicidal soul.
a lost soul.
a hopeless soul.
a dumb soul.
a useless soul.
a forgotten soul.
why would heaven want this soul?

Hey, sweet girl, I know you feel alone
Hey, sweet girl, I know you wanna go home
Hey, sweet girl, don't give up on me
Hey, sweet girl, why can't you see

This temporary pain feels as though it will last an eternity.

This temporary pain makes me feel as though I have traveled so far just to reach a destination with no outlet!

This temporary pain lingers on every inch of my body!

This temporary pain is this noise of an explosion that blew up and injured my insides!

This temporary pain is a shape-shifter that can fool and deceive every living soul that knows of my existence.

This temporary pain is silent to others until it can no longer suffice my brain capacity.

This temporary pain follows closely behind my shadow.

This temporary pain didn't want to stay in that temporary home where it was created.

This temporary pain knows no boundaries of respect.

This temporary pain engulfs my every thought.

This temporary pain is just as it is called: temporary.

I don't think that there's a day that goes by that I'm not told to try. Everyday someone that crosses my path, tells me to try.
"Try to smile."
"Try to laugh."
"Try to be optimistic."
"Try to love harder."
"Just try..."

One of the hardest "tries" is to live. To continue to live in a world that is so filled with hate, judgement, evil standards, confusion, and too many expectations.

I'm not even attempting to exaggerate when I say that my mind is so clouded with the mental pollution that the world shoves into it. A daily battle that is not something to joke about. A biohazardous waste land just waiting for the right amount of "hazard."

I have "tried" to feel like I have purpose here.
{Good news; I have a huge purpose!}

I have "tried" to make everyone happy.
{I've learned that it's impossible and I need to make myself happy for a change}

I have "tried" to live.
{I'm living; finally!}

I am "trying."

Pills,
Pills,
Pills,

Every time I have a migraine, I deal with it. . .

It got really old. . .

16 extra-strength tylenol. . .

Mocking me for an attempted OD. . .

It wasn't even 16, it was 32. . .

~ Until last night, I didn't take anything to rid me of the migraine. . .
~ So I asked for 2. . .
~ The bottle was thrown at me. . .
~ It struck my right collarbone. . .

GREAT!

Now I'm reminded of my desire to actually feel my collarbones with no effort. . .

Age regression?
Confusion?
Creep?

These three words follow me inevitably everywhere. My mind was forced to develop much more rapidly than most my age. Somewhere though, my mentality as I'm walking down the Barbie isle got stuck. Stuck at the age of 11 or 12. I get euphoric when I see the children's toys. I wish that I could just have them all! I remember this one time when I would strategically limit how much money I would spend on Barbies. It was kinda ridiculous how much thought I put into picking and choosing which one I was going to get. Ugh...the memories. My niece is 10 now and she loves when I go to the store with her! I'm usually the one to volunteer to go browse the toy isles, It brought me so much joy and I get self conscious sometimes. People just don't understand!!! My mind gets stuck at the ages of 11 and 12 all the time...just stuck.

Anyways, the proper term for this is in fact called age regression. It's when your mind regresses into an age that makes you feel safe.

I'm not confused!

I'm not a creep!

I'm just a traumatized young adult.

This world is cruel, but please keep your head up!!!