Guavaincamo

Pen to Keyboard
2015-10-09 22:37:10 (UTC)

So saaddddd

Man, I'm sad, can I even sleep. Idk is this PMS? I usually get a boatload of symptoms but upset is not one of them, it's usually anger. I have not been feeling angry but now I am upset.

-hugs diary-
Man I love you diary. Seriously, what would I do just having all these thoughts up in my head and no outlet to put them.

You know, I had a diary when I was younger, a physical one.

Yeah, here's another sad childhood story.

So for Christmas my sister bought me a pink diary. It was so pretty and organized, you could put in your friend's details and have notes and stuff like that. I wrote down all my true thoughts in there and kept it locked. Well, I lost the lock. I kept it with me but one day it went missing. I found out that my nephew had stolen it and taken it to my sister's house. They all read it and I got in serious trouble for everything I wrote. My diary was full of all my thoughts and feelings, of course I slandered my family in there, who doesn't bitch about their family? And at only 9 years old what's the worst I could really write? I only wrote down what I truly felt. It was my outlet, we didn't have computers so paper was the way to go. Well needless to say I was yelled out for what I wrote. See, diary, my family doesn't really do love. They won't sit down with you and talk to you about things, they will yell at you and make you feel bad until you're so scared you just don't ever say or do anything. That's why I'm the way I am today, I was conditioned to be afraid and to *not* act myself. Because being myself was wrong and it was bad and I did bad things. My nephew got off scot free again. He wasn't in trouble for stealing my diary from me but I was in trouble for trusting my thoughts in the one place I felt secure. It was the only place I could speak to and be myself. Well after being yelled at and humiliated, my punishment was that I WASN'T allowed to go to my room. Yes, you heard that right. Whenever I got told off I would automatically go to my room. Sounds like a parent's dream right? Wrong, not mine. Because my mum hated it, she took it as me being defiant when I was simply trying to stay out of her way and let us both calm down so nothing more could happen. This pissed her off, she didn't know what I would be doing in there so she stopped me from going to my bedroom and made me stay downstairs where she could see me. Hand on heart, diary, I never did anything bad when I went to my room. I would sit and maybe be a bit mad, I would throw a pillow maybe because it was quiet then neatly put it back like nothing happened. I wouldn't talk to anyone, then I'd probably read a book or play with my dolls. But my mum thought I was obviously doing something bad so she made me stay downstairs. Everyone was smiling and laughing and continuing on. No one batted an eyelid at how I felt. Is it no wonder that I hate relaying my feelings to people now? I was literally punished for being myself. I know there must've been some times I really did do something bad that I needed to be scolded for but there's seldom any times I can recall of that. Tbh, diary, I was just a good kid who wanted to be creative and to have what all the other kids had. I was scolded for my creativity, shyness and smarts. My mum didn't believe in any of that, she wanted to be a housewife and was forcing her dream on me. She would tell me stuff like "no man will ever want you, they will leave you" when I was not even a teenager. Well, that's my mum for you, always spitting venom at me. She never ever took it back or apologised. I was always called lazy and stupid and told I wouldn't get anywhere or amount to anything and that continued even outside the home. Is it any wonder I'm the way that I am? I always brushed it under the rug and didn't think anything was wrong until I looked around me and realised *this is not normal*. Family shouldn't be this way, I shouldn't be treated like this. I guess I was victim to emotional abuse and didn't even know it.
Thanks for listening diary, you're one diary they will never find. I will never again have to be cautious. I got a second diary from my childminder but I was extremely cautious. I never wrote my true thoughts, only very positive things so as not to be in trouble again.

Oh and you know what's the weirdest thing about all of this? That no matter what I've been through in my life, how much shit I've endured, I'm still a nice fucking person. I'm still sweet as pie and could never dream of being mean or hurting anyone. Funny, right?




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