things might be easier
it might be easier to talk about since I know no one looks at this tumblr anymore. for a time in my life i only posted for one person but then it slowly started to be for myself and this post is for myself. my names faith but it’s probably the one of the characteristic I lack so much. in almost everything, my self, other people, my accomplishments. I lack faith because i lost trust, love, kindness, and friendship. i felt stripped of my dignity and just who I am. i was a shell, still am. not much has changed. but at least I know someone out there cares about me. i woke up feeling empty for so long blaming on stupid things like I’m just tired or I’m in a funk. But I am starting to come to terms with the fact that I’m not a lazy, sack of shit. I just have depression. i don’t ever want to let that word define me like i have with negative terms in the past like “slut” “fat” “worthless” i held those words so close to my heart it barricaded my idea of being positive to myself for so long. depression is not going to be one of those things because, i can’t help it. if i could I’d just be the happy persona i put on a show for everyone, my funny jokes, quirky one liners, hearing “wow you are a woman that is actually funny” but if I did show my emotion the way I feel like I can do now people would just see me as a whiny girl complaining about her problems on tumblr. that’s ironic I know, but i don’t flaunt my feelings around i don’t even think i ever sat down and told someone I am truly struggling in almost a year. it’s been getting harder and harder to open up to people. I look at old pictures of me smiling and it just reminds me of what it felt like to be happy and sometimes that’s my only source, just a memory captured in moments I never even thought I’d miss. Well I think I should just get straight to the point because 2019 was one of the hardest years for me in my entire life. The year started out feeling so adventures with my friends, doing crazy things, enjoying not having a curfew, i felt happy around people who actually didn’t care about me. they cared about drugs, alcohol, sex it was just a horrible rock song on repeat that they lived over and over. things weren’t fun if there wasn’t drugs involved and ridiculed me for not taking part in it. soon to leaving me because being sober wasn’t fun to them. i felt crushed that some of my friends just wanted to get more gas than be my friend. one day when I was hanging out with them i started feeling a pain in my right side that was so unbearable I felt like i was going to die, i repeatedly asked them to take me to the hospital because I knew something was really wrong but they kept saying I will be fine and they didn’t want to get caught with drugs. so i called 911 and almost found out if I waited any longer my appendix would have exploded. surgery was rough, i felt so alone and i wasn’t even aware what else I was going to face in the same year. over the summer i just worked everyday, doing the 9-9 shifts earning money because I was ready to accomplish one of my biggest dreams and that is college. my dream since I was in 8th grade. It was finally here until, one day at work i started bleeding internally. i loose so much blood I collapsed at work. My manager called 911 and I was rushed to the hospital, all I could think to myself was thinking “why do I have to be alive?” it took them a couple of days to figure out what it was and it just so happened to be ovarian cancer. the saddest moment in my life was when the doctor told me that if we didn’t get the cancer removed i could have died from blood clots and part of me was happy to know that i could possible die. I don’t know anyone who would actually be happy to hear news like that, it made me feel selfish for everyone else who has to go through that but for me i was alone. When I heard that I knew no one would care, people from my high school would make those stupid Snapchat stories that said “RIP faith was so great” and then it would be over. my existence would be gone in a flash. but I went through surgery, got it removed and was still kicking because I did have this dream of college. it was probably the only thing keeping me alive, the idea of walking across the stage and getting a diploma in Social Work. when i got to college it was scary but also so great. I meet new people and made some new friends. it felt like a new whole book in my life where things might actually be looking up. But haha it’s my life can that ever happen. I trusted people, the wrong people. trust and alcohol are never a good mix. i met this guy, who was very sweet to me, he called me funny and said he wanted to spend more time with me and any shred of attention I felt admired. so i fell into a horrible trap. one night he asked me if i could go to his apartment because he was feeling sad and needed someone. i always feel like i need to help people so i was quick to say of course I’ll be there for you even though it was only a week we’ve known each other but my empty heart thought that was enough. i went over there and he said if i drink with him it would make him feel better and my college student mind was like yeah sure I’ll drink. Everyone at college drinks right. so i did and i don’t know if put something in my drink or if I’m just a passed out light weight I was out conscious. after that I am not sure what happen I don’t even want to know what happened but, when I woke up. it was one of the worse feelings of my life. i was stripped naked of all my clothes with his semen on and inside of me. i sat up, grabbed my clothes and ran home. I ran home so fast I don’t even remember the point I left the apartment to the point I got in to my dorm room. I was screaming I was crying I was more hurt than i ever experienced in my entire life and from that moment to today i have felt empty. a shell of myself. broken and incapable of loving myself. i was holding on by a thin thread that was slowly starting to rip. I told my friend what happened the next day because i didn’t think i could do it alone and i am very thankful they listened and helped me. they took me to planned parenthood to make sure I was not pregnant or had an std a week later after the event. i didn’t know how to deal with it so I put on this show that I’m okay, I told them I’m fine so many times when i honestly just didn’t know how to feel react I just felt empty. it took until the end of the semester until I could get legal help with the university police. the only positive part of this is that I think he got in some trouble with the police i didn’t have to go to court since it was an anonymous report. i didn’t tell my family until Christmas break. My parents didn’t take it too well but my sisters kinda laughed and said guess you learned your lesson. so i packed my bags and left. I’ve been free roaming on my own, sometimes sleeping in my car or crashing at a friends. til one point January 6th i was broken, i couldn’t do it anymore. I felt disgusting empty alone. and I feared that I would feel that way forever so I went to the store and grabbed a random medicine bottle and was ready to end it. part of me still feels like why didn’t I just die? but it might because i haven’t helped the people i was always destined to. i don’t believe everyone has a purpose or a life plan I believe we make that happen and if the only way I can find meaning in my life is to help people i guess I’m going to try and live to that. I was right, it was easier. Thank you.