I've lost myself.
Maybe I haven't permanently lost myself, maybe it's for a while, maybe I'm just growing. Or maybe I'm stagnant and I've never really changed in the first place and I've just made an entire lie based around my growth, pretending that all the bad things I've done are nonexistent and that i got through them when I really didn't. Maybe I've always been that way for the past five years. I'd like to think that's not that case. That I made progress in some way, some shape, some sort of form that I just don't know yet. I don't think I have, though. I don't think I ever have. I think I'm the same scared little girl from all those years ago, the same girl waiting at the front of my house for a package every October. A package that never came. I still think I'm the same girl who let her first boyfriend use her over and over again, the same girl who severed her closest friendships for a boy who didn't matter. But the only thing that i think I'm not anymore, the only thing I no longer have in common with that girl is that I've finally lost every bit of my confidence.
I've never felt fully confident since I was... God, since... since sometime. I think around eight? Nine? It's hard to remember. I had a lot of spunk and I smiled a lot and I was openly kind and I don't think i gave a damn about what anyone thought. And when people tried bullying me or teasing me I'd tease 'em right back and snap at them. I didn't let anyone walk over me. I wasn't their doormat.
Things changed after third grade, of course. I learned of my parents' divorce and my dad's new family. It broke me and whatever and blah blah blah who cares. I never stood up for myself, even after the last phone call. Sure, i asked him why it had to be this way and why he didn't love me anymore and who-gives-a-shit-what-else-I-said, but I never told him to fuck off or whatnot because I wanted him to be there for me. With me. I never told him that though. After the last phone call, his last words to me... I don't remember anymore. I think he said he'd call me back and he loved me. But i knew he said he'd talk to me later when I felt better. We didn't, though, because he stopped answering his phone and he stopped calling. And I think that's when the confidence began to crack.
It got worse every Christmas, every birthday. I no longer received presents from him or cards, and that made my self esteem to slowly crumble every time. I'd always hope I'd find something for me on the front porch on my birthday, but I already knew I wouldn't. I wasn't important anymore, and I just accepted that after a few years without any sign from him, it was just time to drop it. In my declining self esteem place was an increasing rate of a need for attention. But even then, i still had some confidence, some sort of self respect left for me. I promised myself that i wouldn't let anyone walk over me like that again.
A few years later came my boyfriend at the time. My need for attention had gotten so bad and my self esteem had been so low that i decided to take him in despite all of my friends' warnings and all the red flags he waved in my face. Throughout that one, if you haven't read one of my previous entry, I let his hypocrisy affect me, let him control me, and let him pressure me into doing things I never wanted to do. I broke my promise to myself, and in its place, self-hate flourished. Even though I broke up with him eventually, I still never completely overcame that feeling he gave me about myself. But even then, i still had some sort of confidence, some sort of self respect. I told myself that he was someone close to you. This only happened because he was close to you. If he were anyone else, you would've stuck up for yourself and dropped connections with them right away. I forgave myself, and promised myself again that this would never happen.
And then this year. This year was the all time low. A few months after the beginning of the school year, my self esteem was almost nonexistent and my happiness was swapped for the need for suicide and the feeling of depression. I Hated everything so much. And in a way, I still do. Just not as intensely. But I thought this was the year where I was going to finally say, "Fuck you. Fuck everything. I'm going to do whatever I want and get myself back. I'm going to be where I want to be. I'm going to be confident again." And for a time, I thought it was going well. I did say fuck you to a lot of things, and I did a lot of things that I've always wanted to do and I've said things that I've always wanted to do and I cleared my head and i worked on myself and although i was going against depression I knew i could make it out. i knew I was going to get out of here, one way or another. I was getting my life back on track, the way it should be. i thought I was doing amazing.
Then of course, my fragile self had to ruin it for me. It started around two weeks ago. It was little comments here and there, with some of the guys, like two of them, who were my ex's friends saying stuff like, "Hey, remember [ex's name]?" And I'd laugh nervously and be like, "Haha, yep. Can we not talk about this since I have a boyfriend now?" and they'd drop it. Then it started more frequently, with them asking if I was back with my ex again. I denied of course, and said it was a different guy. They'd ask who and blah blah whatever. Then it got worse. i couldn't even mention any of my hobbies without them saying something about my ex.
One time, i was asking one of my friends what she wanted me to sew for her birthday, and then this guy bursts in and says, "Hey, remember when you used to sew stuff for [insert ex's name]? Didn't he have like... a ton?" And then I'd have to nervously laugh and explain again that i had a boyfriend and it wasn't fair to him, but this time they wouldn't drop it. They called their other friends and they joined in, too, asking if i remembered my ex and everything I used to do for him. Even my supposed "friend" joined in on the teasing. When I couldn't take it anymore, I booked it as fast as i could. But they never stopped.
Now everyday they harass me about my ex and remind me everything about him. The way he made me make out with him, the gifts i made him, but mostly the making out. He told everyone. And he told everyone that I sent him nudes and I sent him sexts and more horrible things. It was a few years ago, but now it's coming back to the surface and i don't know why. And I know i should already be over it but I'm not, because I'm still insecure about everything he did. The relationship scarred me so badly that i can't even handle PDA well, which isn't fair to my current boyfriend. Their harassment continued, and when I asked them why they were doing this, one of them said it was, "because it was funny. You guys made out in public." They laughed at me. I almost cried right there. I couldn't even say anything. I didn't want to remember. I don't even know why they're bringing it up at this point.
But the thing that really broke me was when i was heading to one of my classes, and then an entire group of them started saying things like, "God, I wonder what [ex's name] and Mallow were doing behind the door that day," or "I wonder what happened to [ex's name] and Mallow." One of my former friends said that, and some of my current friends did nothing about it and even laughed along with them. I was a joke to them again.
So I ran to the bathroom and huddled in a stall. I breathed a bit, one of my friends was there to comfort me. but as i was alone in that stall, it finally hit me that I had finally lost every bit of confidence I had and every last shred of self respect. I let a group of people who weren't supposed to matter bully me, and I didn't do anything about it. No witty comeback that I usually do. No sharp tongue stabbing at their insults. I let them bully me. I let them take away the last crumb of confidence I had, I let them break my last promise to myself. And that day, I went home and I cried.
As I lay in the covers that day still in my uniform, my face buried in a pillow, i started to wonder if i had really ever changed at all. Because why should a relationship from years ago matter anymore? Why do I care? Why am I still ashamed? And why don't I feel like I know who I am anymore?
After all these months trying to build myself back up, I finally though I had it down pat. And then it was like some kid at the beach knocked over my damned sand castle with his foot and stomped all over my castle's remains. All the work for nothing. All this work just for me to revert back to my old, pathetic self - actually, maybe I did change. I just got a little more pathetic. A lot more pathetic. That day, I knew I lost myself. And as I'm typing this, I'm wondering if its even worth it to go back and start at square one. I'm wondering if it's even worth it to try and look in the mirror. I'm wondering if it's even worth it to find myself again.