Entries tagged with "growth"
I’ve changed lately… and in a very good way.
This change has to do with my self-confidence and overall perception of myself. I always considered myself to be a very confident person, but below the surface I was constantly doubting myself. And I knew it, too. Then suddenly everything changed. I can’t really pinpoint the exact moment, but I realized that I am an attractive young woman with a great sense of humor and a very easy-going attitude. It just hit me one day. I think that I was doing my makeup, and when I stood back and looked at myself, it was like I was seeing myself clearly for the first time. It was an odd self-awakening. I’m more at ease around guys, I’m more confident in class, and I just have this attitude of “Hey, I can do what I want and it is what it is.”
Now I feel like an adult. I feel like a contender in the world. And I don’t know where this is going to take me, but I know that it’s definitely going to affect my life in a positive way. Everything seems new, even things that I’ve been doing for a long time. I’m more excited about mundane, everyday tasks and the like. I’m appreciating beauty in all aspects of life, even those that aren’t so apparent. I’m trying to understand people, and why they do what they do. I’m fascinated by traveling, by foreign things, and by everyday experiences.
This entry seems like the inner monologue of a character at the end of the movie. You know, they’re walking down the street/beach/field etc., they’re observing the world around them, and they’re narrating their feelings and their sense of presence in the world. The camera pans out, and shows the world moving around them. A trendy, uplifting song plays, and then the screen fades to black. Roll credits.
The only thing is, to me, that I’m not anticipating those credits. This is the beginning of something new and beautiful, and I can’t wait to explore it further.
In Kindergarten I had a friend. We would swing on the playground every day. She was my best friend. When her birthday came around, she invited the entire class to her party, and it was that day I realized why we were always alone on the swings. Her care-free singing was the result of two mentally ill parents, and her splotchy skin was an extreme skin disease. We were alone on the swings, and we were alone at her birthday party. After I realized she was different, I stopped singing. I found a new friend and would swing with her instead. I don’t know where she is or if she has any friends, but I know she is still singing while I am too scared to. Ann, I am so sorry.
My life is blessed… I’ve got three great kids. I’m getting back into my art (Musician) and having clarity and a spiritual connection has literally saved me from the abyss from which I was in for years. I was a professional musician that became a stock broker and literally had everything you could want in terms of a life. One thing I didn’t have was a connection to something and I was a total alcoholic. Didn’t even know it. Thought everyone drank until they got drunk and avoid life everyday. Anyway, wife divorced me, lost my job and became homeless (does this sound like a Country song, haha)… Long story short, went into rehab, got sober, got connected again and life is fantastic! I’m the Dad and guy I always knew I was but could never be. So, people… there is ALWAYS hope and help, just reach out for it. Life is more beautiful than I ever imagined! Peace!
I want so much out of the next few years to graduate college this May and have anywhere to go from there. I want to be everywhere doing everything and never disappoint anyone
I wanted to avoid writing about it, but nothing else in my life is quite so significant and life altering. I miss being innocent and naive. I miss the optimism and utter lack of understanding for hatred that I had ‘till I was seventeen. Rape is an awful word. It’s a terrible feeling; It changes you and follows you around so closely that 4 ½ years later you can wake up from a random nightmare and struggle to look your boyfriend in the face because you just dreamt of such an awfully horrible thing being done to your body. I guess that’s the worst part about it—the fact that it’s never far from your thoughts. My family has suffered so much sexual abuse it’s unbelievable. I could be OK if it was just me. I can eventually come to understand the guy who decided to take what he wanted from me, even though he knew I didn’t want to give it.
This is all so jumbled—I get like that sometimes when I ramble.
I was two days away from my 17th birthday, in the basement of a friend’s house—watching a movie. We had been semi-friends for years. When he tried moving my hand where it didn’t belong I just pulled away. When he tugged my pants down I tried to pull them up but I wasn’t as strong. I didn’t scream. I didn’t fight. I just cried real quiet. I didn’t think that’s who I was.
I thought I was stronger.
My best friend was only 13 when it happened to her. She’d gotten separated from her friends and was found by a middle-aged horny as fuck wasted asshole who attacked her. She fought back and screamed and was choked nearly to death by him. She didn’t tell anyone for years. She wishes she didn’t fight back because she tried and failed and almost died.
You can’t win.
She’s my baby sister.
I was raised on Disney Princesses and ‘Leave it to Beaver.’ My parents are straight out of Pleasantville—very even tempered, very much in love; Everything that went wrong could be solved by brownies.
I love the world. I love people. I love being introduced to new things and dreaming about the future. But sometimes I’m alone in my car and I think about my sister, or me, or my Grandma who’s addicted to pain pills, and sleeps all day (scares the shit out of me because she was raped by her brother—I don’t want to turn out like that when I’m old) and my knuckles go white on the wheel and my stomach clenches and I know that I am capable of violence.
I miss being innocent and naive.
I am a typical, average person; I live a common American lifestyle, I have traveled nowhere spectacular, and I have never accomplished anything extraordinary. Yes that is perfectly fine. I have come to realize that I don’t have to “be somebody,” as in somebody famous, worldly, or “popular.” Someone taught me this once: All that truly matters is being somebody special to just one person—touching just one person’s life in a way that no one else can. My life has been touched, and I have been blessed. To others it may seem ordinary, but to me what has happened in my life and all the people who have affected my life mean the world to me. So this is an average story, about my average life, but to me my life is far from ordinary. Much more is to come, and I can only hope that I one day will touch the life of another in a way that no one else can!
I am a 21 year old male who is fairly normal in most regards, besides the fact that I’m a recovering heroin addict. I’ve been trying to “stay clean” for the last five years and only have been successful for about two years of it. About three months ago I left inpatient rehab, the fifth of my career. I’m not sure how I’ve survived this long, I’d always planned on being dead before I turned 21, that way I didn’t have to worry much about the consequences of my actions. It was nice for awhile, living recklessly got me into many interesting situations. Unfortunately my plan failed, seeing that I’m writing this right now. But I have an amazing family and although at times I am rather indifferent to being alive, if I no longer were it would be something my family would have to deal with every single day. Now I realize that the “easy way out” is not an option. I’ve lived in a “transitional living” environment in Ann Arbor for the last three and a half months and life has gotten better. I realize how terrible this all sounds and that I should be grateful to be alive. To talk like this is insulting to all the people out there whose lives were tragically cut short, all those who didn’t have a choice. But why write this if I’m not going to be honest? This book and the idea behind it is important for that reason. Anonymity makes it easy to be honest, to put into words what is really going on with us, instead of telling everyone who asks that we’re “fine.” Lately I’ve been struggling with the fact that I have to deal with this addiction. It’s not the first time of course but the first time in awhile, anyways. I can’t help but crave being “normal.” Along with not doing dope, it’s a requirement that I abstain form all chemicals along with an early curfew. I often feel that I’ve been dealt an unfair hand. I’m not talking exclusively about my living situation but rather my entire situation—living the last five years constantly hurting everyone who love me, dedicating all my time and energy to drugs, whether actively using or trying not to. I’ve missed out on so much, which is why I’ve recently been frustrated and unhappy, I spend a lot of my time walking around downtown observing all the students, having the “college experience” and they seem to have it made. I can’t help but dwell on the fact that I should be one of them, it seems I’ve lost myself over the years consumed by how “different” I am. I can’t imagine how whiny and self absorbed I must sound. I try not to be, a lot of the time I’m able to accept my circumstances I mean despite the way I feel about them, they’re not going to change. So I can either just accept it and deal with it, because being miserable is easy, anyone can do it. Life’s too short, and we only get one shot at it so might as well make the best of it. I feel much better.
I worked at a detention home in NY, trying to make the world a better place. In less than 2 years i knew i would never make a difference. I packed up, left NY and went to school in FL to work with zoo animals. Since i graduated, i got engaged, broke a heart, obtained more debt then I’d like to think about, met my best friend and introduced more people to animals and their hardship in the wild, then can be counted.
I finally feel like I may be making a difference.
Now my best friend moved away, and I’m not sure i want to do this any more.
I am just learning to be the man I’ve always wanted to be. I’ve been a heroin addict for three years and went to rehab 70 days ago. I am living in a half way house and go to meetings and groups every day. I am learning to stop my people-pleasing behaviors and learn to be assertive. I am growing and trying to stay patient, humble, and tolerant. I am starting to love myself and only think in the present. Just for today. When I think about all that I’ve been through, I start to realize I don’t need to ever use again. Today, I live with no fear, being honest with myself and others, one day at a time.
As a freshman in college I became involved with an older man who went on to stalk me for two months. What had begun as a wonderful sexual exploration became overwhelming, scary, and isolating. Four years later, I trust I’ve come a long way. I rarely think of that older man, of the nights I spent jumping every time the phone rang. I’ve learned to overcome some of the emotional and sexual obstacles “the bad relationship” left in the wake of a police visit.
Even so, today an older man harassed me for my number, got too close, touched my hair and asked if he could walk me home.
As I biked home, I trembled. I am so glad to be in a better place now and I know that I wouldn’t let that happen again. I’m no longer 19, sleeping in a dorm room. I am 23, alive, strong, and powerful.
But I’ll probably cry tonight.
I’m turning into my mother. it’s a slow process, but a complete transformation, nonetheless. I’m here writing this now because I know this is something she’d never do. I hope this gets published. Maybe that will stop the process. Maybe I will become someone else. Who knows?
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