Find That Inner Strength, And Just Pull That Shit Out of You

Before you read this. Trigger Warning.

I had a friend ask me this weekend how are you doing mentally? I said I have my good days and I have my bad. From this time last year, I am 100% better. (I am adding this sentence at the end of the day letting you know I am 100% okay).

This is for anyone that has or will battle those voices in your head that say you are not enough. The feeling of not wanting to get out of bed. The overwhelming feeling of suffocation that you are a burden on everyone and everything. The feeling of being a lost cause. The feeling of walking through the day and feeling like you are having an out of body experience. The gripping feeling of just being constantly tired. Everyone at some point in time in their lives feels at least one of these.

Most rise above the occasion and emotions and continue with their lives. For those who battle these thoughts and feelings every single day all year round my heart and soul give you a hug. That overwhelming feeling where you know you are okay, but you feel like you have demons that are trying to crawl out of your body screaming you have no worth and it is time to give up.

February is always a hard month for me. I have a lot of small triggers that arise. I have always suppressed the emotions. Better yet, the super bowl is a huge trigger. Well football is. As I am writing this, I am fighting the overwhelming urge to just want to scream and smash everything around me. It goes back to my gang rape. Last night was the super bowl. I avoided the entire game as much as I could, but I wanted to watch the half time show. I mean the lineup was a 90’s baby dream concert. As soon as I slid into sleep after meditating the images started to flood from my repressed subconscious. Reliving as much as my body can remember about that night. Every hand that touched me. Every finger that shoved my head on his dick as tears quietly streamed down my face. The feeling of every thrust from each individual man. The small talk of voices saying I was a piece of shit. I am not worthy. The yanking and grabbing from every man. The going in and out of consciousness. My body going numb in order to just make it through. Waking up home. I have no idea how I made it home. I just remember waking up with blood streaming from my vagina. I rushed to the shower and sat on the floor pretending the water falling from the shower head was rain erasing and cleansing me. Having to get out of the water and putting on a smile. Becoming momJus and going on with my life like nothing had happened. My body suppressing the memories.

I write this because I know there are millions of women and men who have gone through a similar experience. February 2020 I was too busy dealing with the process of my divorce finally starting to take its course. February 2021 I had someone who encouraged me every single day to get up and keep going even though his world was in shambles. Last year was the first year I allowed myself to remember this event. This year, however, I take it in. All the emotions. I must heal, but the voices just scream in my mind that I am not worthy. But I know I am. I have so much fight left in me. Just one minute at a time.

On the way to work I was listening to Eminem and the lyrics of “Till I Collapse” came on.

Cause sometimes you just feel tired You feel weak And when you feel weak You feel like you wanna just give up But you gotta search within you You gotta find that inner strength And just pull that shit out of you And get that motivation to not give up And not be a quitter

Last year I wanted to fall flat on my face and give up. I did.

But this year I am different. I will fight these mother fucking thoughts and every thought that keeps rolling through my head like a horror film on repeat. This year I have me. I have this beautiful reborn fight within me. The day to day will be difficult. As I am writing this, I am sitting in the corner of my classroom shaking before the kids enter the classroom. But my day will not be bad. I will not allow these voices, these feelings to defeat me. I may have scars galore covering my body and fighting all mental hell that is breaking lose in my head, but this little 5’0 female is ready to fight. I will continue to rise. Just as you will.

For anyone who is fighting the same fight. Or a different version of this. Any mental battle really. You have this. You fight. You keep going. You find that adrenaline to fight. You take a step. You tell yourself every fucking day that you are worthy. That you are a beautiful miracle. That you belong and deserve to be walking on this planet. You are a gift that everyone gets to have. Keep fighting.

Healing is a mother fucking bitch, but it is a beautiful masterpiece in the making. Yes, you who is reading this. You are a beautiful walking, living masterpiece.

Peace out from a perfectly imperfect queen!