Monday, March 4, 2019

Today I'm Angry

Today I'm angry. 

Angry at the people who made me like this, angry at the people who bullied me, who sexually harassed, sexually assaulted me into this person. I'm angry at the people who did all those things to me and got away with it.
I'm angry because I'm the only one who feels the repercussions of bullying, while they can go on living their lives as if they didn't ruin a person for life.
I'm angry because I don't like to admit that I'm angry very often, so the anger builds up until I'm reminded of how much they truly broke me.
I'm angry because I don't want to let them win, but me being angry means that right now they are winning. 
I'm angry because I want them to know how much they hurt me, but I'm angry because they will never know. 
I'm angry because they almost killed me with their words and thought nothing of it. 
I'm angry because they did these things to me, and they don't remember what they did. 
I'm angry because I remember and they've never given it a second thought. 
I'm angry because I want them to be hurting, not me. 
I'm angry because for once I would love to not be messed up because of other people, but instead I'm a mess because of what they did to me. 
I'm angry because no adult stepped in and actually cared, but instead let the bullies get away with what they were doing. I'm angry because adults played it down, and gave the boys an excuse for doing what they did to me. I'm angry because a hand shake and a forced "I'm sorry" doesn't fix anything, but instead shows the bully that they can keep doing what they're doing because they get away with it. 
I'm angry because their parents failed at their jobs to raise their kids, and instead made demons dressed up as humans. I'm angry because their parents will always praise their kids, not knowing that their kids broke another kid.
I'm angry because I have to let myself be angry, otherwise I might break a wall or a window or another human's face. 
I'm angry because I want the people to know what they did to me, and I'm angry because they didn't care and never will.
I'm angry because they were so reckless with another person's life and didn't stop to think that what they were doing is wrong. 
I'm angry because they're stuck in my head as these horrible demons, and they will never be able to become anything else.
I'm angry because they've been able to move on from what they did and maybe become better people, but I'm angry because they will never truly apologise to me.
I'm angry because every once in a while I'm reminded by these people and their actions, and I'm reminded by how truly horrible they were. I'm angry because to me they will never cease to be these people, no matter what good they might do in their lives. And I'm angry so that I can keep going, because anger means I'm still fighting.

This blogpost is brought to you by anger, as today I was reminded of how deep my scars truly go. I'm scarred in ways I didn't think was possible, just because of actions that children and teenagers made when we were all children and teenagers. I've had therapy for years because of what these people did to me, but every once in a while something new pops up and I'm sent into this cycle again. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Who knows how long it will take this time to get to acceptance?

So, whatever you do, be kind to the people around you. You cannot know how deeply you can damage someone by saying a simple word or doing a simple action. Every action has a consequence, but sometimes you won't feel that consequence, only the person on the other end of the action will feel it. So be kind. Be kind. Be kind. And if you see someone being not so kind, stand up to them. Because they need to know that this is not okay, and they are not allowed to drive people insane by saying and doing horrible things.

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Also, just a heads up that my twitter is locked at the moment and I'm waiting for it to be unlocked again. In the meantime I'm mostly active on Snapchat and Instagram so find me over there!

Friday, February 1, 2019

How do You Pack up Your Life And Move to Another Country?

Oh hi,

Hello, hi, hey, hola. It's me again. Yes, I am doing my bi-yearly blogpost, now that it's been another half a year since I last posted anything. Oh actually, it's been 10 months. Oops. I got a bit busy moving countries, and handling change happening everywhere.

Question: how do you pack up your life and move to another country? 

Answer: with a lot of panic and uncertainty.

Would I have enough money? Is it worth all the debt I'll be in after graduating? Would I make new friends? Would I miss home? Would I feel like I belong? 

To answer past-Maddie's questions: I'm surviving, usually I end up texting my parents at the end of the month asking for money for buses or pasta.  Can't say yet if the loans are worth it. Oh yes, I have made some amazing friends. Yes, yes I miss home, but mostly my dog. But do I belong? Do I really belong? In my own little world that I've made for myself, yes. And that's really all that matters.

If you want to talk logistics, I would not recommend moving countries with six suitcases. Turns out that it's quite difficult to drag your parents, and six suitcases, around Gatwick, Reading and Bath. Oh well. Also, if you'll be living in a tiny room in student halls, you'll have stuff everywhere. But, I have enough clothes and enough stuff to make me happy. So I guess it was worth it.

Another question I should answer is why? Why did I move? Most of you reading will know that I've started University here. I'm studying Creative Writing at Bath Spa University (please, I don't want any stalkers), currently in the middle of deadlines. A thousand words here, three thousand words there. A draft over there, a finished piece of writing right here. Words, words, words. Everywhere. 
But, getting into University isn't the only reason why I moved. Because why apply to a University in another country if you don't want to move? Truth is, I had felt trapped for a long time. Trapped in a version of myself that I was forced into. Trapped in a place, in a country, I didn't want to be in. So, I had to get out. And I did. I don't feel trapped anymore, because here, in a new country with new people, I can be 100% myself. I can say what I want to say, without feeling like someone will judge me. I can do what I want to do without feeling like I'm doing something wrong. I can be myself. And I'm finally beginning to accept who I am and what I've been through. I'm turning twenty-one this year, so I think it's time that I finally live my life for me, and live my truth. And that's what I'm doing here, with new amazing friends, and in a beautiful city.

When I first started University, I went out a lot. Did some partying, did some kissing, did some more drinking, did some watching other people smoke, did some dancing, and then reality hit us all. Or, should I say, University hit us. Hard. For a while I forgot what free time was, I forgot what I enjoyed doing during my free time, and if I did have free time I spent it with my flatmates or friends. Because sitting in my room on my laptop felt like wasting time. So I stopped wasting time. And now, here I am at 11pm, writing a blogpost, wasting time. But it's good time to waste, and maybe it's not wasted.
I've got my free time back after Christmas break, trying to remember to not hate myself when I'm not doing Uni work. Sometimes succeeding, mostly feeling like a waste. It's okay. It's been worse.

So. Question: how do you pack up your life and move to another country?

Answer: With hope, knowing that I'm living for myself now.

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