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There was a point and time in my life when I wouldn’t have known how to answer this question. Some people reading this will totally understand why and how I felt that way. Then are those of you who couldn’t possibly understand why I felt that way. People probably wonder how I couldn’t know myself. Me. My body, my brain, my spirit, and my soul. Don’t get it twisted now because deep inside of myself I knew who I wanted to be. But for the life of me I didn’t know how to stand my ground and show everyone that I’m a totally different individual than anyone else on earth. I’ve seen people who were best friends and each one acted like the other instead of their real self. That’s how I learned to show myself to other people. By acting like who I thought they wanted me to be. If I showed my real self I wouldn’t be accepted, or I wouldn’t be good enough. My self-esteem was below average. I wasn’t ever suicidal but at the young age of 11 or 12 I began cutting on my body. The relief I felt when I inflicted that physical pain was such a burden lifted off my mind. It was totally all mental health problems.
I’ve been hurt by grown men when I was little. I told my momma every time it happened. The one time my parents pressed charges on a man for grabbing my breast, pinching and twisting it so hard he bruised it. The day I thought I was going to have my revenge, my day in actual court in front of a judge, I wasn’t believed. I never got justice for how bad he hurt me. The county attorney slayed me on the stand, a child who wasn’t educated and basically had the spotlight shining on her while being questioned about how the incident happened from the exact time it happened to everything I did afterwards. All I knew was to tell the truth and that’s exactly what I did. The charges were dismissed because there wasn’t any evidence other than my word, about what happened. A child’s word about situations like that are easily dismissed as being tall tales, or lies, or the child’s imagination running wild. At least back then it was. (I’m so glad that type of shit isn’t taken lightly any longer.)
After losing my sister (my only sibling) I became stuck in a 20-year-olds mentality. I was very much still a child myself who was just starting out on my own. Having my own life with my first child and partner. Living on my own in my own home. Starting my own family and making a life for myself. All I could think about was how the fuck am I going to live the rest of my life without Jennifer being there. She was my rock, my homie Quan, my ride or die.
I still can’t believe it’s been 20 years already. In the years that’s passed since their deaths (my nephew, and sister) I have grown into myself, and I’ve learned so much. If I meet someone and they don’t like me or the way I act, that’s on them. I’ll never again conform pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m a very empathetic, caring and loving person. I’d never intentionally set out to harm someone and hurt their feelings. I treat people how I want to be treated and that’s the way I’ve always been. My momma raised me right. My dad’s advice was always to turn the other cheek. He was and still is the biblical advice-giving man that he’s been since as far back as I can remember. I guess you could say he’s set in his ways. I couldn’t be that way all the time. I was always that person who tried to avoid confrontation. I was very timid, shy, stand-offish and uncomfortable being around other kids or people that didn’t like me. Especially when I knew I didn’t do anything wrong. There has always been this lil part inside of me that wanted to question those that don’t like me because I just want to know what I did wrong. Even though I never had the guts to step up and do it. I walked away leaving them to their opinions and feeling how they wanted to feel about me. I was that one who chickened out and backed down.
Not anymore!! Today I’m a grown ass woman who’s strong, speaks her mind, and knows who the hell she is. My name is Tina, and I’m a writer. I love reading books and enjoy creative writing. I’m a wonderful listener whose door is always open to everyone and anyone that needs that one person to spill their guts to. If for any reason someone needs help, no matter what it is, if it’s within my power to physically do then I’ll do everything I can to help. (Except if it’s illegal. I’m not catching charges for nobody). I’m a survivor. I’m a helper. I’m a good friend. I’m trustworthy. I’m reliable and dependable. I’ll be the first one there when you need someone by your side. I’ll never leave you feeling alone and hopeless. I’ll give you all the positive, wonderful reasons for you to fight for your life and the reasons for you to remain in other people’s lives. I’m that friend reminding you how much your truly loved, wanted, and needed by everyone who cares about you and the friends that worry about you. If I can’t help, I won’t give up trying to figure out a way to get you the help you need, want, and deserve. I’m the friend urging you to fight the demons haunting you, backing you up so that you never lose. That’s the person I am today. I try to be the positive influence everyone needs from someone.
I'd rather read a good book, VS watching the movie made from it on TV. Most thoughts on that are 'why'. Well, my answer for that is that there aren't any limitations to your imagination. Therefore, when I'm reading an action packed thriller that I can't put down or stop turning the pages of is because the details are written by the author describing the scene/situation with such clarity, that I think it's far better than what anyone can visibly see on TV. That being my opinion only, I'm sure millions and billions of avid readers out there agree with me 100% on that reason alone. I've always had an active imagination growing up. I'd use the almost empty cans of shaving cream my dad would give me, as the whipped cream on top of the mud pies I made.Of course dad got the first one. After all, he did give me the topping. I was very versatile also. I was the biggest tom boy of a little girl you'd ever see one day. To dividing Barbie clothes between me and my older sister (when I was lucky enough to get her to play with me). I had to play by her rules though. Perks of being the older sibling I guess. I loved playing with the Hot Wheel's cars in the dirt. Making race tracks and underground tunnels I'd dig out for them. Sometimes my dad would be outside with me showing me all kinds of different things I could pretend to do when playing cars. I have one day in particular that stands out among the rest. It was when I learned to do the underground tunnels for the cars to go through. He showed me by taking a simple stick off the ground and using it like a tool to push the dirt out from one side to the other. It wasn't a tunnel without keeping the top part intact. I acted like there was a cave-in, and then accidents, crashing the cars together. No one ever got hurt in my imagination though, just the cars got hurt. Growing up with a sister 6-years older than me taught me lots of things, both good and bad. If I kept her secrets, she kept mine. And the only reason I even had any secrets was because she allowed me to. I got to sneak and smoke in her bedroom at night after our parents went to bed. I had to be very quiet because I got caught most of the time. But I was always caught by our momma. And then all she made me do was get back in bed. I came from a poor family so anything name brand wasn't known to me for a long time. I was bullied and made fun of all throughout my school years. It doesn't matter which year you pick. From the 1st grade, all the way through high school. I know that's terrible to have to admit, but I think it'd be even worse having to admit to being the bully. I swore to myself I'd never treat anyone the way those kids treated me and made me feel. It bothered me so bad I'd dream about standing up for, and actually fighting over other kids getting bullied. I woke up all of a sudden one morning after punching the lights out of a bully in my dream. When I really punched the headboard and made my knuckles bleed. Come on! When a child is taking on the burden of other bullied kids, you know that's a heavy burden to bear. It was also very hard on me. I never talked about it to my parents though. Yeah, they knew. But back then no one really knew what to do about that problem like they do now. Or, well, think they do. I've been in counseling since starting school. I can't remember a day going by without me seeing the school guidance counselor. Shout out to Mrs. Reeves though, at Lone Oak High School. She made the biggest impression on me as far as wanting to help other kids like me. The bullies were actually the kids who came from well-to-do families. Kids who never knew what it was like to experience the disappointment of being told 'No'. Or that there wasn't enough money to buy what they wanted. Kids that figured there wasn't anything better to do except make fun of the less fortunate to get them through their day or to have a conversation piece. The anger and hatred that built up inside of me was, and still is undescribable. The thoughts they caused me to have. Picturing the tables being turned and the bad things said back to them, bad things being done back to them. It only made me feel better on the inside. I've been asked by numerous doctors in my life if I'm suicidal. I've answered no, being completely honest each time. But never have they asked if I've felt homicidal! I know, scary right? The outcome of such thoughts is what triggered the start of mass school shootings. Coming into adulthood was strange territory for me as well, and actually caused me a lot of uncomfortable times, knowing things I knew I could now do but never felt comfortable ever talking about. Even with my sister, the person I was closest to, I couldn't open up and freely talk about anything of the sexual nature. I guess because bad things have happened to me on more than one occasion when I was still very much an innocent child. With me hiding such horrid things from my parents, along with everyone else, I felt I couldn't talk about the good kind of sex either. Man did that ever set me back, keeping me immature of certain things I should've known already but didn't. Because in my mind I was still that child who was hurt in a bad way. They were called 'Red Touches' back then. What we were taught to call them in school anyways. Then just when I was becoming independent and living on my own, learning to stand up for myself in a way that would make my sister proud of me, I lost her. That caused me to go into a deep depression I didn't come out of for many years afterwards. March 29, 2003 changed my life forever. I lost my 2-year old nephew that night to a raging house fire. My sister passed 17 days later in the burn unit in Vanderbilt, Tennessee. However, if you've read 'My Story', a post on my blog. Then you'll know that in order for me to know what I now know, and to be the person that I now am, all of the bad shit had to happen first or else I wouldn't have caught and held onto the message so vital for me to have acquired in my life. Helping the less fortunate. Being someone's somebody they can depend on being there when they need them the most. After receiving confirmation that my nephew didn't suffer, not for one second in that house fire... Was I able to let that burden go, only to let in that oxygen, that life support I desperately needed to save myself from a lifetime of misery. Even though I know my sister, Jennifer, isn't physically here to cheer and root me on. I know without a shadow of a doubt, her and Lil Jesse (my nephew) are both doing so from Heaven today, and everyday that follows. If you're suffering from addiction of any kind and you want or need someone to talk to I'm a damn good listener! My contact information is listed on my contact page. Please call, reach out for support. You're not alone no matter what negative thoughts are telling you that you are. God is always there for you as well. If you'd like to learn more about Jesus and how He died to save us, don't hesitate to ask. I'll share what I know is all good, and positive about God. Whom I choose to call my higher power. If you don't believe in God, then the subject will not be pushed. EVER! If you're battling mental health issues and feel alone like no one knows what you feel like. Then I'm here to tell you there's billions of people out there that will share with you that they too, feel just like you do. Hit me up on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter. All of my accounts should be connected to my website. If you're waiting on me to respond and it's been a while since you tried getting in touch with me, then by all means be more persistent and bug the shit out of me. Make me see your messages. I will eventually and I'll always reply when I can. This is the best I think I've written in this 'about me' section. It's the most I've opened up publicly I know that. I'm open minded, I keep it 100 all of the time, even if it's something I don't like myself, or for others, I still have to keep it 100 with myself in order for me to keep it that way with everyone else. I hope this told everyone a little bit about me, maybe more than I originally intended. But it's all accurate and up to date with where I'm at in my life right now. Thank you all and God Bless
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