Sometimes, Bad Things Happen for the Better · 2:41am Feb 7th, 2014
Alright, I'm about to get deep here. I'm about to tell you some things about me to make a point across to those who may be suffering, crying, wishing, dying, or begging for a better tomorrow. Now, what I'm about to tell you may not be as bad as what you're going through (I don't know you people, but if you are suffering, I wish for it to stop and will keep you in my prayers), but I do want you to know that I still felt as if I went through quite a bit in comparison to a regular child of the age of nine.
Alright, when I was nine, to start off, I had an awful sleeping condition at my father's house. My parents were divorced, and my dad's house was something I dreaded all week long. It was something that made me cry and worry every week as Thursday neared. It wasn't because of my father, though... It wasn't about the long, boring days... It was about the nights.
Night was the worst form of a nightmare... Night was something I dreaded the moment the sun rose. It made me want to cry and flee.
To start, I used to hear bugs crawling. Not too bad, right? It seems rather pathetic to be afraid of something so little. They weren't just any bug, though. They were big, fat palmetto bugs with wings. I can't remember a single weekend I didn't see one at that damn house.
Anyway, the bugs would keep me up at night. I'd cry. Sometimes, my dad would smack me in the face when he heard me cry or scream... I only screamed when I saw them, though. That's irrelevant, though. Here's what I'm getting at: When I would cry because I heard them at night, it would make me think. A lot. Due to lack of sleep, I would usually spend hours thinking about characters. I would mold and create tons of imaginary friends. I remember so many of them.... Most of them were talking animals. One was even a roach named Jacob. Jacob reminded me that maybe they weren't all out to get me...
So, like most children my age, my imaginary friends and I went on little adventures within my mind. They were a bit strange, however. Some consisted of me being held down and having my eyes ripped out of their sockets, having my hands cut off, being imprisoned in cages, one of my imaginary friends being baked alive, death, cannibalism, scary birds, and being eaten alive. I know there was more, but that's all I can remember at the moment. The most bucked up thing, however, was I enjoyed every second of my daydreams. I relished the dark, dreadful thoughts. My mind came up with stuff I hadn't even been exposed to, yet. I didn't know why I enjoyed, I just did...
Every night, I would spend time thinking of my friends. I would visit them, talk to them, and go on all of our adventures together. Sometimes, I'd even convince myself they were real for my own sake. All in the living hell I had to sleep in many nights. What pissed me off the most (and still does) is nobody believed me when I told them about the noises I heard and everything. I felt so awful... I cried a lot, and I would always just sit there and wait for the sun to come up.
Here's what I'm getting at: Those awful years changed me for the better. My mind became more creative, and it inspired me to become the writer I am now. Without that experience, I wouldn't be as grateful for everything I have now. Sure, it left an ache in my heart, but it was well-worth it.
I'm not saying this to make you feel bad for me or gain your sympathy. I'm only doing this to encourage you to power through, and always know there's a reward at the end of every struggle.
Thank you all for reading! Sorry for making this so long. I just wanted to share with you a little experience of mine. Also, I'd like your opinion on my former self. I may have been a bit messed up, but I don't think I was too bad. I think the worst part is that I still sometimes wonder what my friends have been doing without me...
1804720 No regrets, my friend.
first of all, I warn any trollers that if you touch this blog post you WILL regret it.
second, i went through something similar to you pizzy, not morbid..Daydreams?..thoghts?.. imaginings?.. either way, mine was a different, but simalir torment, the ecpectation to be a certain way, to toughen up, but i never experienced the bugs, mainly physical abuse from my stepfather. but i did turn to the daydreams like you did, the escape was really all had to look farward to(fortunately i was to young to have any access to drugs, or to even know what they were), so i can understand that part. its good that you tell people these things. "greif shared is greif halved" is not quite accurate, but its closer than a lot of other sayings. this s kind of why i turned into a brony, and my or ay not be your reson as well, the need to have an emotional outlet, but one with little or know chance of being targeted for it. I hope you are able to overcome whatever it is that has you down, but it takes time to heal.
Understandingly,
The Warrior Scholar
cant agree with you more, what dosnt kill you makes you stronger(usually)
Yes, those bugs can be pretty annoying, because it's dark, you have no idea idea where they are and the paranoia keeps you awake. Then the lack of sleep combined with the half-asleep state make everything you imagine much more real (the whole point of it is to distract you so you can relax and fall asleep). It's normal.
Side note here: You must have great potential in writing gore/dark fics.
I submit my request here!
Admittedly, I had a somewhat brighter childhood than what you were forced to suffer through.
That being said, I recall two specific traumatic events that I completely sealed out of my memory for a while, one of which involved my brother, another of which involved a man I met and looked up to greatly. I'm not going into detail on either one.
Part of growing up is knowing who you are, and I eventually dug up what had happened out of the recesses of my brain. One of the most difficult parts is reconciling what happened to you and knowing that you're a stronger person as a consequence. It's not enough to be a victim; it's to be a wiser person because of what you went through.
It sounds to me like you've already come to terms with what happened and have accepted it for what it is. That is definitely a good thing. Keep going strong.