12/24/2012

Sometimes I feel like my Mom cares more about how other people think of her decor than she cares about her five children.

I’m so tired of never feeling loved by them. As a child I’d been bullied by my peers and often my teachers. I didn’t want my parents to go beat those people up or anything, I had just wanted their support. If I’d had someone saying, "It’s okay, you’re smart and beautiful and I love you." then many things in my life may have turned out differently.

The first time anyone called me beautiful was when I was 14 years old. I had just started grade ten and after class one day a boy came up to me and asked if we could talk. I said sure, not really thinking anything of it. He introduced himself and then explained that he had wanted to tell me that the first time he saw me he fell in love with me. He said I was beautiful. And I could tell this kid was insane and not in the endearing and creative way but it was still wonderful to hear.

Up until then the greatest compliment I’d ever recieved was having a ‘friend’ tell me something along the lines of, "Wow with your eyebrows waxed you’re actually sort of pretty!" as well as, "If it weren’t for the fact that you’re eye was kind of scary you would be attractive" ( I was born with an eyelid colaboma )

I wonder what it would be like to actually be pretty…

body dysmorphic disorder. Bipolar 2 disorder.

I know it’s not good to tell children their perfect or whatever, you don’t want them to become entitled. I’m not saying thats what I needed to hear. I’m just trying to say that I wish my mom had been there when I needed her. It’s not so bad. People might even say it’s a good thing. "Well this is why you care so much about other peoples feelings." "You wouldn’t be You without your mom."

I love my mom. I want her in my life. I just hurt right now. I need someone to think I matter. I need some control. I need to feel safe in my own room. But for the longest time now I’ve been feeling like I’m a bird caught in a storm. All the rain and debree keeps hitting me but I have no where to go for safety.

Brandon. Okay. that’s true. I have a wonderful boyfriend. The thing is that I can’t trust him. I trusted other boys and all that got me was raped, mentally/verbally abused and cheated on.

I remember when I was very young my parents got angry at me and my sister. They yelled at us and locked us upstairs. That night my sister came to me with an angel figurine which she owned. She told me that when mom and dad were mean to me I could still turn to the angels for help, that they would still be there for me.

Loving siblings, loving friends, loving boyfriend. I have a lot to be thankful for this Christmas. And I’m thankful for my mom and dad too. After all they gave me a home and a life. And I feel so guilty for needing more from them.