The leftovers of a broken childhood

I struggle to write anything for two weeks, then in one day I write two blog entries – that’s the way the dice rolls, I guess.

The title of this post relates somewhat to the video I just watched on YouTube. I’ve written about Boogie2988 before with regards to his take on weight loss and body issues, but this video touches on something else I’m familiar with – the effects a damaging childhood can have on an adult, and the lengths they will go to cope with the trauma.

In the video above, Boogie (real name Steven Williams) talks about how he eats to cope with his PTSD, OCD and anxiety brought on by physical and psychological abuse at the hands of his mother. He’s been open in the past about the depression he suffers and thoughts of suicide as well. When he spoke about crying whilst eating, I wanted to just reach into the monitor and hug him – he desperately wants to be healthy in his body and mind, but it is hard to fight the demons that are constantly with you in your mind.

I have my own leftovers from my childhood. There are quite a few things I won’t talk about openly – I’m not ready – but I did not have a simple, nor a flat-out happy childhood. There were a handful of events that lead me to mature beyond my young years, but also stunted my emotional development, thus leading me to borderline personality disorder. I could not cope with the amount of trauma I went through at such a young age, and at the age of 13 I began cutting myself. I also tried to kill myself for the first time. Self-harm became my crutch when things got really bad – at first they were nothing more than deep scratches, but as time went on the wounds became deeper, covered more skin. It’s not a coping technique I would recommend, but it’s the only one I had.

The last time I cut myself was just after we had to have our dog Shandy put to sleep. The pain of the loss – it was just too much. That was six months ago, and I have the worst scars to show for it. They are hideous, and I hate looking at my arm – it shows the world that I am ill, and that once upon a time I mutilated myself because it was the only thing I could do.

Admittedly, if the scars on the outside reflected the ones inside… I’d be unrecognisable.

One day, I will be brave enough and I will tell the world what happened to me. One day I’ll be able to make sense of my memories, and be able to let the ghosts rest. People like me and Boogie – we’re just trying to survive, any way we can. Sometimes it’s not the healthiest way, sometimes it causes more damage than it prevents, but we don’t have all the answers and we’re just trying to live each day as best as we can.

I think that’s all any of us can do. And if you’re reading this, thinking this sounds like you, then just know that you’re not alone. We all know pain in one form or another, and we do what we can just to get by. 

Image from Pinterest, lyrics from Big D


About Claire

Well-groomed tomboy. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I hide it well.
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