I was going to have part two of the renovations go up today but it felt more natural to talk about my depression and anxiety. So much has happened after I shared my secret with the world on the first of September. I’ve made leaps and bounds since I shared that post. There is quite a bit I want to tell you so buckle in and enjoy the ride.
I started the month by sharing my secret. I didn’t know it was something I wanted to do till I wrote the message. I didn’t know I was ready to share it till I woke up one morning and decided to share it. I was so desperate for things to change that I was willing to just rip off the band-aid and get it over with. I don’t know what reaction I expected or what I would feel afterward but boy. It was a lot. I felt ten emotions all at the same time. I didn’t even know it was physically possible but that’s just how I felt. Overwhelmed with raw emotions. My parents’ response was what mattered the most and seeing their response come in was hard. They responded how you would expect. Anger and confusion. Anger as in, I’m going to kill that monster that hurt you. Confusion as in, why didn’t you tell me back then? I could’ve done something. They also needed answers. What happened? When did all of this happen? Why didn’t you tell me back then? I could’ve helped you. This hurt me in ways that I’m going to try to explain now.
He came into my life when I was nine years old. I will never forget that moment that I met him. Back then I used to visit my father every two weeks for the weekend. We lived an hour away so while I would stay with my father my mother would stay with her friends. A few months prior she met him and was ready to introduce him that one night. I can tell you where we were, how the air smelled like and everything. That moment is so clearly imprinted on my brain as I’m writing this now, I’m transported back to that very moment. He didn’t act strange or did anything that would cause any frowns but something inside of me just knew. That little voice inside my head screamed that this man is faking it. He is wearing a mask. Who he portrays himself to be is not his true self. It was just that gut feeling. I was young and had no idea what it meant. I figured I just didn’t like the man because my mom was dating him. I struggled a lot in the beginning after my parent’s divorce to accept the men, she brought home. They weren’t my dad and I wanted my dad. My mom and he got engaged and married within the same year. Everything was normal. He was friendly enough and eventually I convinced myself to ignore that gut feeling. I was just uncomfortable with him because he is marrying my mom. Within days after the marriage, the mask dropped and I learned who he was. Monsters are real. My gut feeling was right. To this day, I always listen to my gut feeling. I don’t ignore it.
When my parents asked why I didn’t tell them back then it was difficult for them to see. I tried to explain but I don’t think it has truly sunk in. I was so incredibly young and impressable when the abuse started. I just thought what he was doing was normal or that it was no big deal. I was overreacting. Everyone’s step dads demanded to see them in their bra’s. The few times I reached out to adults nothing happened. They pushed it aside and acted like it was no big deal. There were times he would abuse me emotionally and very rarely physically in front of adults as it was seen as a joke. So, in time, I saw it as a joke. No big deal. It was hell and I was terrified the entire time. The abuse kept getting worse and there was just no way to escape it. I could only stay stubborn and fight of the will to end it all for so long. He left when I was sixteen and I pushed everything to the back of my mind and forced myself to just go on with my life. I couldn’t focus on it too much. I couldn’t allow myself to open that can of worms. Years went by where I didn’t think much about it. I managed to convince myself it was normal or that no one would believe me. There weren’t bruises. I’m just overreacting. So, when my parents asked me why I didn’t tell them it was hard to tell them that I didn’t think they would do anything. I didn’t think they would believe me. I was convinced they would tell me it’s not that serious. Brush it off and then send me back to him. I was convinced that I would get in trouble. Obviously, I realize that I was just brainwashed and my dad would probably have beaten the guy to a pulp. I realize that now but the thing about abuse when you are so young is that you don’t know what this person is doing right or wrong. Or eventually, you start to believe that you deserve it. You’re a bad child and you deserve to feel like this. NO. There is nothing wrong with you my sweet child. You don’t deserve this pain. Please reach out to adults. They won’t be angry. If the first adult doesn’t listen to you, go to the next one. And the next one. Force them to hear you.
I said before that I shared my secret because I wanted to be free from my past. I didn’t want to be ashamed about what happened anymore. The first two seconds after I shared the message, I felt free. I felt giddy and just like this massive weight was off my shoulders. It wasn’t until I saw my parents’ response where suddenly it felt so real. For the first week, I felt incredibly guilty for telling my parents’. They were struggling with the news. They were hurting and I felt bad about it. Where I had years to come to terms with my past, they just got this big bomb on them out of nowhere. My dad called a lot. He needed to know what happened and fuck it was hard to talk about it. I’ve only told one person in the entire world almost everything that happened. Even then it took me some time to feel ready to tell him everything. I’ve also talked to my best friend about it but we never went into detail. And suddenly, my father wanted, no needed some details. It felt dirty as I was trying to just say some of it. He needed to know if I was raped. My mom needed to hear that too. I wasn’t raped. For the longest time, I thought because I wasn’t raped, it doesn’t count. The truth is although I was never raped, I have no fucking doubt in my mind that it was next. The weeks leading up to his departure of my life, there was gestures and hints. Hugs where you can feel it. Urgh, I feel sick to my stomach.
The entire month of September was just an ugly emotional rollercoaster. I felt raw and vulnerable. I regretted my choice of sharing my past at least once a day. I regretted opening that can of worms because I hurt so much. I didn’t feel free from my past instead my past was suddenly ALL I could think about. I think I’m going to stop this blog here. It’s a lot and I just need a moment to process everything. Part two will be up soon. I just want to take this moment to thank every single one of you for all the love and support that I received when I shared my past. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you all. Much love, Cassy xxx
The blog I referenced too: I Suffer From Depression and Anxiety — https://butterflyfingers.com/2018/09/03/i-suffer-from-depression-and-anxiety/ —