Wednesday 13 July 2011

Chrissyrun's Story

Thank you to Chrissyrun for this amazing and inspiring story. I hope things are going well for you at the moment. You're right that life always keeps moving :)


I am not going to start with once upon a time because my story didn't start in fairy tale land and it didn't end there. Despite me being far far away, I was not in a castle at the time....but my room. Oh, gosh, my room. It was my sanctuary...it was my prison. See, I was not the typical child, and you could've guessed it from the moment you met me...at any age. To pay for my mistakes, such as meltdowns and tantrums, and violence towards siblings (or their distorted view of what a poke is), I would serve my time. At that same time, I was starting junior high. Everybody who likes junior high, raise your hand! Nobody? Really? I thought it was everybody's favorite part of life. It certainly was mine. After all, my very best friend who I shared a new state (after moving in 1st grade) and all of my elementary school classes with, would not be in any classes with me. Who would want a supportive best friend? And being a teenage girl, is just so much fun. Puberty, Anorexia, the fact that everybody expects you to be stupid and wear make-up was probably my favorite part. My parents thought long and hard, and to be fair, they did the best they could. They took me to a strange doctor who made me take tests and put me in a dark room with weird lights and noises who looked at my eyeballs. Yup, I had autism. So, I was a mentally impaired, no support, obviously weird teenage girl. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing like inciting a tendency for depression in my best friend who I loved dearly and causing her to move to a different school. That could never happen. Oh, wait, this is not somebody else's life we are talking about are we? It's my life, my completely dysfunctional, and completely ironic life. (This also happened to be the year I turned 13). The internet was not an option, we weren't allowed on EVER. My family was my worst enemies behind my teachers who told me I was doomed to fail. There were certainly a lot of choices. I acted up, I got in trouble, I did all the normal stuff "troubled teens" are supposed to do. Nope. It wasn't enough. Then I looked at my room. It had a tv. My only source of freedom. Because when my parents ground me from everything, they mean EVERYTHING. But nobody dared to go in my room. It was smelly, dirty, and hard to live in. I just thought of it as heaven. TV became my only thing to do, the only thing I could focus on. I didn't even do my homework out of school, because I was that smart. Or it could have to do with the fact that 7th grade takes NO effort. I think it was the first one. But, it didn't matter. School, Life, People, Family, everything was evil, that was, aside from my TV. It made me laugh, it showed people with worse situations than I, I could dance and sing and shout with it at any time. It didn't matter that the crap I was filling my head with would make me think bad thoughts later in life...my TV was my surrogate best friend. Until..........the day.

That day when the storm arose and ruined my life. I'm talking about the day when I wasn't allowed to watch TV. It was torture. Suicide was my only option, and I reminded my parents of that, daily. In fact, on one occasion, I got a knife and called up my old best friend and was crying and screaming that I wanted to cut off my thumb. This is of course totally normal.....of course. My parents got sick of that soon, and didn't believe me. I have always been a show-off, after all. Loved putting on a performance. So what was my options? Numb. I went completely numb. My once lively self because a skeleton stuck in a phase of reality and anguish. Music was the only words I heard, and I constantly wondered about death and it's consequences, but no more attempting it. Wouldn't want to upset the parents, or they'd take my music.

Snap.

It happened. No, I didn't attempt suicide. In fact, something was finally going right for me. Life had meaning. I took up an art class. Compliments, good grades, no effort, friends to talk to, it was a present given to me by an unknowing teacher and a very loving heavenly father. I actually put effort into a lot of those projects, and it made a difference. Soon, I learned that I had other talents, and people liked to talk to me, and that life was worth living.

And while you sit here and contemplate my resolution, thinking to yourself about how trite or superficial it may be. Does it matter? I am alive and happy today. I have my moments of doubt and I have my moments of worry, but I also have my moments of sheer joy and steadfastness of mind.

That is my story. So, where did I end up?...it has no clear finish. That's because my life is always moving. I try to make new friends, cultivate new talents, and find new reasons to live every day because though my mind may be in a land far far away...my heart is right here trying it's best to life each day so I can be happy and help others be happy. Now isn't that such a cheesy ending. It's a real ending...unless you'd like me to say The End. Then of course, you are just crazy.

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