Life is a Journey – Voices For The Voiceless

Trigger Warning: This post will touch on my battle with self-hate and my contemplation of suicide, descriptive imagery, and unsettling events.

Hey, y’all, I’m back and I have so much to get into that I honestly can’t decide which event to start with. Naturally, I should begin with my birthday festivities. So, here goes . . .

The journey to 22 was a long one; I enjoyed every twist and turn on my roller coaster of life and healing. This year especially was a whirlwind of new experiences and exciting events. I went from meeting my new church family to accepting the hard realities in my life. I met someone who I’m incredibly happy to call my mentor, all while managing to grow comfortable with each change. Those that know me personally have witnessed the massive growth over the years. I’m incredibly proud to have thus far.

I know I haven’t addressed this specific topic as much as I should, but it’s challenging to step into my role and be so transparent. When I was younger and still growing as a person, suicide and “bad thoughts” plagued me constantly. I had fantasies about how it would affect my family. I often thought that because I didn’t care about myself, no one cared about me. I used to hide away and believe, “No one cares about you.”

These mantras were filled with negativity, leaving me to feel it was all I had. All I had known was turmoil. I did have great, fun memories, too, but they couldn’t outweigh this mental imbalance. I think my self-hate started roughly around age 10 and continued until I was 12. Those years I spent in silence; it’s when my historical cycle of abuse began.

Following my silence, I began to become angry with myself for not speaking up. I felt disgusted and hurt, this situation eventually ending at the age of 12. It only ended, though, because the pressure of holding it in was so overwhelming after I found out my abuser would temporarily stay with my family for the summer. I recall suddenly telling my mother before school one morning. Immediately, I wanted to take it back; I was ashamed and felt like I was the problem. I soon realized that this was not true, but this took me a long time to understand. I wasn’t the only one enduring the abuse. To make things worse, I was bullied both inside my home and out. I grew up around so much negativity I thought everyone must have lived and loved this way. I normalized my toxic environment. It wasn’t until I was 19 that I discovered my world was unhealthy, and clouded in negativity.

Fast forward to high school, I’m now a depressed, angry, and hurt teen still living in negative space within my head and home. My friends never knew because I grew comfortable in my silence. I thought so little of myself I couldn’t even come up with 5 beautiful things to say about myself. I had the desire to speak out on what I had been enduring, but I was too scared of the consequences. I thought no one could know because it wasn’t necessary or worth the risk. I was adamant about protecting my family; it didn’t matter how it impacted me.

To get back to my original point, I hated myself to the point where I loathed every small thing about me. I couldn’t accept compliments, couldn’t smile without a negative thought racing through my head. Because of my hatred for myself, I couldn’t see the love that was surrounding me. My downward spiral continued as I experienced more and more pain. I was lost, confused, and hurt. To anyone going through something similar, I hope you know this: You are not alone, and you are loved more than you could ever know. It took me years to see that pain was not all life had to offer me. The negativity was always on the inside and the joy was being blocked out. I’ve since grown and changed the way I view life. I have love on the inside for myself and for my future, with my past negativity on the outside.

Eventually, I met people who showed me that abuse of any kind was not routine. From this, I began to uncover more difficult truths. I was faced with a lack of support, further encouraging my dark thoughts. I again spiraled, this time into a deep stage of questioning my new journey. I realized I needed help when I hit rock bottom, attempting to cut my wrists with mirror shards. I decided I needed to chase after a healing remedy. Fortunately for me, during this time, I always had a secret passion: poetry. When I wrote, I could describe my feelings and thoughts in a more transparent way. Poetry has always been the only thing to break down my wall of silence. After I began writing, I found that I couldn’t return back to my comfort of silence. Those days needed to be behind me, as they were not beneficial to my mental health.

You can understand how special my 22nd birthday was; it was everything I had needed and wanted it to be. I was happy to celebrate for myself, to spoil myself, and to witness my transformation. Within this past year, I survived an assault, I stood in my truth and took the first steps towards breaking my historical cycle of abuse. I will say that I did punish myself as I had more negative, toxic reactions from my assault. I lost people who needed to be gone. I had to revaluate my choice in connections. I was forced into yet another dark hole after my attack.

This time, I couldn’t live with being a survivor. Carrying this title weighed on me. I felt that it held a power I didn’t deserve. I had still felt like it was my fault. After building up my support circle, I turned to them for help. I struggled to even talk about the night itself. I had allowed my perception of myself to yet again, be diminished because of another person’s issues within their selves.

I cried a lot this birthday because, at 21, I never imagined making it to that age, and now, at 22, I never could imagine I would have done all this work on myself. I’d like to point out that I didn’t just heal overnight. I was determined to help myself and my future. I began going to therapy, researching new coping techniques, practicing meditation. Recently, I’ve taken up CBD products to ease my anxiety and PTSD levels. I now burn incense and pray over the things I can’t control. Yes, I’m officially that woman. The one who burns incense to ease her day and is constantly looking at affirmations.

I’m so honored to say I pulled myself out of my own darkness and back into the light of love. I allowed myself to let love in even though I was extremely terrified. I let myself speak on what I needed to speak on, and I created a platform for those similar to me. I managed to turn my pain into my passion, and for that, I will remain grateful for every hardship I faced and every time I came out stronger when I thought I was weak.

All of that being said, this post should definitely give y’all an idea of why this site means so much to me. I know I may have done this in an unorthodox way, but I’m glad I did. I think this was the right time to explain my newfound confidence and frame of mind.

Silence doesn’t make you weak, speaking on these circumstances takes a lot of strength. I cry as I type out my feelings because, as I’ve mentioned, I’m new to taking on my purpose in such a huge way. I become overwhelmed with emotion each time I set pen to paper, keyboard to computer. I write and speak on the most controversial subjects to fuel others on their healing journey. My attackers and abusers will never push me into silence again. I’m back and I’m here to stay, baby!

To all my survivors battling unspoken wars, I commend and praise you on your journey towards healing. I want to show you all that help is out there if you want it. If you or anyone else struggle to enjoy life in a positive light, please get help and understand your life matters.

For those who are actively seeking help the number for the National Suicide Prevention hotline is 1-800-273-8255.

Love you all and thank you for your support!

– Queen J.

The poem below is where the nature of my poetry truly began. I wrote this piece during a time where my life was almost completely weighed down by the shackles of neglect and abuse and other not-so-positive attributes. I was plagued by darkness also surrounded by negativity; this made it almost impossible for me to express myself in the ways I saw fit.

Its title originates from my perception of myself and others’ perception of me at the time. I was seen like an angel, someone who was perfect in almost every way. If I made a mistake, I would feel as though I didn’t fully represent the best me. I was seen as a reflection of my mother, but I was not really seen as “me.” My identity was not my own. My family made sure that I was very aware of this and, in turn, caused me to feel isolated and broken.

I wanted to showcase this brokenness with a twist; I’m my own person. My voice doesn’t represent anyone but myself and my journey. When I originally wrote this, I was so engulfed in darkness that I barely could see straight. It wasn’t until I starting writing this that every emotion and thought and vision that had ever crossed my mind was set free from its mental cage. I was able to fully put on paper all the suppressed thoughts and overwhelming incidents that were seemingly dragging me down. I made a choice for myself and from that day, I decided I wouldn’t be voiceless anymore. This poem represents those moments in life where we all have to choose whether to keep going or to lose the battle. My hope is to inspire those dealing with similar circumstances to keep moving forward because growth is truly a beautiful thing.

Take Flight.

– Queen J.