Anyway

My mom and I talk about the past sometimes. This wasn't always true. We had literally agreed never to talk about it when I was still a kid. A pastor enabled this, claiming that God was going to forgive my mother for all she'd done and we were never going to discuss this again, and that's what we did for nearly a decade. It was hard to break this treaty, because the abuse really did stop, but eventually I did and it wasn't pretty. Eventually this led to my mom admitting to her mistakes and insisting she'd do everything differently if given the chance.

This is problematic for me. It's hard to validate my own horrific experiences when, for one, my memory fails me sometimes but also because... I turned out okay anyway. Sure, I have depression and anxiety but there's no way to know for sure I wouldn't have ended up this way despite the abuse. Perhaps that's incredibly naive of me. It's hard to imagine what I'd be like had I had a warm, supportive, loving upbringing instead of the abuse that I got. I try to tell myself I might have ended up a horrible person. I don't know.

But look at me. I have more jobs than I can handle. I kicked ass at school. I got married to a good man. I live in my own home, pay my bills, and I'm even - god, this is so hard to swallow - popular. Sure, my mom made some huge mistakes but I turned out okay anyway. That's what I tell her when we talk about this. I tell her that she really did change and it led to me having faith that people can change, though many never do.

People will say, "I'm so sorry" for what I've been through. My response is typically, "I'm sorry for kiddo Amanda. I'm okay now." I now realize that's not true. Kiddo Amanda still lives inside me and sometimes rules me through anxiety and other emotional outbursts. Depression is like a warm blanket that comes in and scoops her up and protects her, not realizing that it's too heavy, it's too much.

I struggle. I struggle every day, but I'm successful anyway. There are a lot of reasons for that: my belief in God, teachers who believed in me, Ajashi and Emo, my aunt, probably my little brother, the love of a good man, and amazing friends to name a few.

I don't know what the point of this entry is. I'm clearly still confused about how I feel or should feel about all of this, but yesterday's entry was a bit... intense. I just want people to know that despite what happened to me, I'm doing okay anyway. I mean, I think I am. Aren't I?