A little about me
I grew up fairly normal I thought. Singly mom, youngest of three. I am sensitive, insecure, private but I fake it really well. I am average in pretty much every way. I don’t get angry, I hold everything inside until it comes out in tears. If I ever do scream or yell, there is something that has built up. It isn’t that I am not angry. I am angry a lot. Like I want to lash out all the time, but I don’t. My middle sister and I grew up very close until middle school. We are really different. She got different friends. Everything was a competition. Don’t get me wrong, with sisters, there is always a fierce love, but I am so different than my sisters that they never really got me. Always the running joke of being adopted or the milkman’s kid.
School, I was average. I got average grades. I wasn’t popular but had popular friends and some not so popular friends. I didn’t have a group but one best friend. I sort of just eased through. High school I got bullied a bit by some of the popular girls and later realized it was because I was friends with their boyfriends or that their boyfriends liked me. I had a boyfriend my freshman year, he was a senior. He cheated on me because I wouldn’t have sex with him. He still calls all these years later. He called my moms house on my 30th birthday to wish me a happy birthday because he didn’t know where I was living at the time. Junior year, I had another boyfriend. He forever changed me, verbally and physically abusive and that is what I thought I deserved, so off started the rest of my journey.
I am overly sensitive, an empath. I can feel others peoples energy and I take it on. I hate that. I am prone for depression and anxiety and my body feels it all. My body hums all the time with energy from not being able to get rid of that energy.
I used to be a gymnast. Now I love to swim, but I can’t currently do that because I am having back spasms so bad I can’t stroke because of that spasms. Here is an outlet to try and get it out.
I had a tough conversation with my mom this weekend about my dad, he passed away 14 years ago from brain cancer. We didn’t have a great relationship because he chose his wife over me, she hated me. He never communicated with me. When he was dying, he kept saying “I have a lot of explaining to do”. He never did. Turns out my mom had some explaining to do too.
Empath here as well, as well as having issues with depression and such. It seems to go with the territory. While grounding has its place, I find it…difficult…to do so a lot of the time. It’s like, trying to get the electricity to ground so it’s not overloading you, but the energy itself is keeping the grounding from happening half the time. It’s tiring, and that’s putting it mildly.
I read your three pieces so far. Not to be callous or something to lightly say, but I feel a lot of what you’ve written down. Not all of it to be sure (my parents are still together, for example) but there’s some similarities. I feel ya in a sense.
@tigerhawk Yes and YES! Grounding is hard. It’s constant work. Maybe writing some of this dish down will help me release some of what’s pent up. 🙂
@milkmansdaughter – Writing does help, strange as it may seem. It’s more of a slow burn vs working out the aggression or whatnot but it does help. 🙂
I am sorry that you went through that abuse and your poor relationship with your dad. And I think it is unfortunate that there was never any type of closure, I guess, with him since he passed away.
@heffay It was def hard. I tried to communicate with him. He just wasn’t the type. I was there when he passed and I did that for me.
I’m an amateur family historian. A few friends and some people on discussion boards have made the same discovery that you have. It is fairly common. What is even more common is the level of surprise that is there, even from people who kind of knew.
I am kind of the opposite. I was told by cousins and aunts all my life that my dad wasn’t my real father. Even my grandmother alluded to it. I did a DNA test. I matched with some of those aunts and cousins who taunted me. I guess that’s why I look like my dad. Too bad my mother isn’t still alive so they could all apologize to her.
@emiliasdance I was told I was adopted and that I am the milkman’s. I did a DNA test. That’s another story for another day! haha