Foster Kid Phoenix

Foster Care sucks & I survived.


Leave a comment

depression, trauma, and our beautiful souls

We need to create our own narratives, our own self-help phrases and affirmations, directed at our own souls and paths. Those of us who have survived traumatic abuse don’t have it easy. What might work for those blessed with healthy, loving foundations probably won’t work for us who were brought up to believe that we are weak and inherently flawed.

We can’t give up hope. We must allow ourselves to cultivate hope. Just because the answers aren’t on the table yet doesn’t mean they’ll never be found.

I’ve been struggling a lot this past few weeks. For a while I felt on top of my stuff – believing that I have what it takes to make my dreams come true. I believed I was a valuable asset to my community, just waiting for the right opportunity to shake it up and make some changes around here.

Now, I’m not so sure. I’m having a hard time getting out of bed, I am second guessing everything that comes out of my mouth or flows through my head. I have no idea why, or how, I fell so low. Depression sure is tricky. It obscures the truth, and worse yet, makes it easy to believe the lies. Sometimes I can see a little more clearly, but then it becomes a whole new battle – “why am I still feeling this way? What’s wrong with me?” 

On one hand – yes, I have survived years of abuse, being told by the people who were supposed to care for me that I am bad, evil, worthless and should have never been born. But I should know better by now, right? After all, I have plenty of good qualities. I’ve even started a journal, recommended by my therapist, to record positive moments and nice things people have said about me.

Why won’t it sink it?

When I start feeling this way, as hard as it is, I need to step back and remind myself how much I’ve been through. I often compare myself to others, others who were lucky enough to grow up in peaceful, supportive families. That’s not fair. I’m not going to be where they are. 

I also compare myself to other foster kids.. but I’m realizing something. Just because, on the outside, people seem like they have it all together – doesn’t mean they don’t cry themselves to sleep at night. We’re all infinitely more complex than it would appear at first glance. 

I’m not sure when I’m going to start feeling better, or if I’ll ever be completely healed from my pain and free of my conditioning. But I’m going to keep on living, learning, trying to navigate the tangles of my mind. If I give up, I know for sure that I will be miserable.

When I break my suffering down to one goal, it seems much more achievable.

I don’t need to try and be a better person. I don’t need to change anything about myself. Right now, I just need to learn to see the person I am. Free of the nagging words of my abusers, free of crippling self-doubts.

I’ve caught glimpses of her – my true self. I like that person. I’m not very nice to her.. but.. someday, I hope to have a good relationship with her, and get to live with her full-time. 🙂

Advertisements