I’m not always a happy person.
"You're always so positive and lively", "Your laughing face makes me smile", "You're such a polite, cheerful and talented young person, I'm sure you have good family background and don't worry too much" - these are just a few things I hear sometimes from people around me. I'm a nineteen-year-old university student and I'm from a broken home. Literally, it's broken and I doubt the pieces will be collected and glues one more time like a broken mirror. My home is broken due to money - my mad mother loved them so much, she abused me, my sister and my father. Every one of us reacted differently to it - my sister run away to another city “officially” in race for a better education. I mean I respect her choice that she wantd to get to the best university, but in our hometown we also have one and it's not half-bad. All she wanted to was to run away from our abusive mother, her constant manipulation, shouting, psychological violence, blaming us for her own mistakes, humiliating us, when we asked her for money for basic supplies like toothbrushes, shampoos and whatnot. She left in order to be free from all of this shit. To be free in another city, alone and on her own, faraway from me and father. Ah, our father - that's another story. He is the best, the kindest man I've ever known. He also bore all humilations from my mother hoping she would change and we become one family again. He wanted to collect and glue all scattered pieces of our home that had broken many years before they actually decided to divorce. It happened just recently, when my sister and me became adults. Back then, when we were still children, our dad chose the lesser evil and didn't want to divorce our mother believing it would be much more disasterous for our psyche. At least, this is what he told me. For me, it's only partially truth - I believe he still loved her. He loved her, fought for her affection for more than twenty years of their marriage and failed being played by her tricks. But no, he wasn't blind from this love, oh no. It was worse than this. He saw and experienced all her cruelty and was forgiving her every time, even though she had never said sorry. I know all of this, because my father is my best friend and I complained a lot about my mother so his wife to him. "Give her a chance, everybody needs a one" - he told me again and again. I believed him. Yet, when everything is broken right now, I need to live with broken hopes about having a loving family too. All humiliations and mental abuse that I got from my mother protecting my father, my sister and myself is a thing that certainly won't fade away from my memory too quickly. Don't take me wrong, I'm not weeping and woeing about it - life never gave me this privilege. I'm a tough young woman of action, I always put my whole heart into fixing my problems, fighting my weaknesses and fears. And believe, in my child- and teenagehood I needed to do it in order to maintain just a little stability and peace of my mind. I hear from my dad's sister all the time that I'm coping very well with this situation - I study and I'm genuinely liked by my professors and other students, I have hang out with friends, I have my passions and hobbies etc. That's why for strangers I look like somebody who has no worries and takes the best from the life. While I always tried to do the former ine despite all hardships, I don't disillusion people, when it comes to my troubles. I think I'm too proud for this. I just think I have much more to offer than my vulnerable, suffering and chaotic side. Because depsite its existance, I feel I'm full of passion to life, I love being with people, being helpful, feel needed, impress them with my knowledge, move their hearts with my sincerity. I want to show them this side of me. I'm fad up with my difficult childhood and the last thing I want to do is discuss it with strangers. And again don't take me wrong, i'm not running away from talking out my problems - I have no problems talking about it with my dad and his sister, my psychologist... Believe me, I tried to talk about it with my friends and teachers - they just didn't get it, they thought I exaggerated, I felt either judged and/or ignored. I hate this feeling, so I learnt to be careful in choosing people I expose my vulnerable side to and show I have bitter feelings too. I'm not always a fucking ray of sunshine as people assume. And contrary to their suspicion - yes, I know what suffering and broken childhood mean, they shouldn't assume I can't understand their problems, because they are SUPER serious and I'm just a kid without any life experience. This especially indicates to my equals in age - I dare to say I'm much more experienced with unpleasant situations and getting tough life lessons than most of them. And I'm not bragging, there is nothing beautiful in suffering. I know many people had it much worse than me, so by respect to them, I don't want to exaggerate my actual problems I had in past and have right now. But that's truth, I experienced and witnessed many things that weren't particularly nice to say at best, so all I want to say to my equals is that they shouldn't feel special with their worries, because they aren't. They should better look around and realise there are people who have much more serious problems and they need an actual help. I know having silly worries is a part of adolescence, yet I didn't have privilege to experience it. My worries were more like - if I ever get cured? Will children will bully me at school? Will my mother shout at me for nothing again? Call me bitter, but sometimes I groan and roll my eyes inside, when I hear some of problems of people my age. Yet, they assume, I'm always happy myself. Yes, sure, I smile a lot, because I forget about my vulnerability among people, when I can impress with my knowledge, charm with bright mind and sense of humor - to do all these things I couldn't do before, to become the person I always felt inside, but didn't have a chance and courage to show it as a younger self. So I want to tell all these people who perceive me as a light-hearted kid that I'm not actually happy. I stopped being a child long time ago. No, sometimes, I am, I feel and behave angrily, even if they have never seen me in the past. But this rage and the feeling of humiliation and disappointment for my so broken childhood is inside me and even if the time passes and they one day fadeaway, some part of it will always stay with me. This girl is have a full right ot be pissed off! And when I get pissed off, you really don't want to be on my way. Sometimes I'm happy, sometimes I'm not, mostly I remember about my pain, when I have nothing to occupy my mind with. Well, I can't help it. And I don't want to. This is who I am and have nothing to be ashamed of. Deal with it. Thank you.