Friday, July 24, 2015

This is Me

I was born in Louisville, Kentucky. I was the first born to wonderful parents. Then I became a big sister to two awesome, pain in the butt, little sisters. I grew up in a Christian home and thought I knew who Christ was, but I disobeyed, was broken and lost like many. I was a thief, liar, and porn addict. I am known as a sinner.  

The truth is I not perfect, and I know I never will be, but that is okay. My family was not perfect either. I grew up too fast in my parents eyes and my own. I felt pressured to be an adult than a child. I watched as my sisters grew up playing. Now I am not saying I did not play because a child needs to have friends, and every parent knows that. I had friends but not a lot. I forgot to mention that my sisters and I were homeschooled. They only friends I had came from my neighborhood and the church. I messed up and made poor choices in friends. 

I was not popular, and I'll never know what it feels like either. I was always in the background, and I still am. I know people who are attractive but not famous, and I wonder how many friendships that they have that are true because let me tell you I've only had one, but that is now gone. I have friends, but I've lost so many of lies, hurtful words, and even suicide. I've lost trust and built up walls.  
My family is not wealthy, and neither are we poor, but we might as be poor because of the university I chose and the loans we had to take out. I almost made my family go hungry. I sometimes cry at night because I feel as if I am being ripped apart. We live in a small house with three bedrooms and one bathroom. When I started college and came home for the first time…I felt as if I did not fit in and even felt left out. For goodness sake, I slept on a mattress on the floor in my littlest sister's room, and now I sleep on the couch because It feels more comfortable and better for my back, but I do not have space for myself and feel even more left out. 

I am wearing myself out by staying up late writing. Papers, reflections, journal entries, poems, and even half-written stories. 

I was tired and worn out all because I stayed away.