the nice girl syndrome

I definately have the nice girl syndrome. lets not cause an issue, lets not show my own anger, lets be nice and if i am really nice and please people than everything will be okay. did that work when he was punching in my face? no did it make him stop beating me? no it did not.

no more miss nice girl routine.

did it help me at work? no it didnt. people ran right over me. i was told i was too nice. its true. i act too nice. i am not too nice. i act too nice. i care too much about what others think of me and to approve of me and if they dont i go into a tailspin and think i am an unworthy person. i am not a too nice person completely because i am a nice person. i am a nice person because i am scared if i am not a nice person something bad will happen. and you no what when i was angry at home growing up i would get beat i would get threatened i would get hurt shouted at and abused and called every name in the book and whose fault would it be in the end? mine. because i was too angry i was too this. i was too that. i had to act like a lady. stay positive and upbeat. my life was good right. i had a roof over my head and food to eat. why should i complain? dont feel sorry for yourself. you should be lucky. thats what they told me. so i internalized that and i beat myself up instead

i started cutting my wrists. i started burning myself with cigarettes. i started banging my head again the wall. throwing my prized possesions against the wall. i wanted to destroy myself. i thought i was the enemy so i took it out on myself instead. i thought i was the enemy that no one around me was the problem. i needed to be eliminated.

i would walk into danger. i would sneak out of the house late at night to meet guys in exchange for cigarettes,alcohol and sex. it was my comfort it was my escape from all the abuse at home. all the silence. the resentment that would explode with a bang when he or anyone else in the family had enough. my house was not a home. it was not shelter from the storm. it a house of horrors hiding behind its nice property. all my friends were jealous thinking i had it all. i was rich i had so much. but that shit never meant nothing to me. i was always wanting to be someone elses daughter in another home.

i always envied my best friends family. they were not perfect no. but they seemed happy. non violent and non criminal. meanwhile my dad was out at all hours of the night. dealing drugs. hooking up with prositutes. getting into fights. getting arrested. when my mom had the courage to lock the doors he would take his fist and smash the windows in with his fist. i never thought my dad had problems with drugs. but now i know he most likely did with pills. i cannot deny it anymore. my dad most likely was abusing pills. he was adament about drugs and alcohol. railing against what he called low life druggies and alcoholics. but i think himself he is still battling with it all. denial is a very powerful thing.

i will continue this later……its too much for now….