So tonight I have thought about multiple things I could post about and this one has been weighing heavy on me lately. It might seem stupid to some but this has been on my mind and I thought I would share and give y'all some more about my life.
So, I've given it some thought....and I really want a new tattoo. I always said that my next tattoo would have significant meaning though since my first one was just random and on a whim.
Hebrews 6:17 says "We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure."
This means a lot to me. Hope.
Now, I am 22 years old, and I have been through multiple hard times. More than a normal 22 year old should go through.
Starting with birth. I almost didn't make it, and neither did my mom.
Ok, don't get me wrong from then on until about 8th grade, life was pretty much just handed to me on a silver platter, I had all the best friends, I got everything I wanted, I went on all the best vacations, you name it, I did it or had it.
Then, 8th grade. I was your typical 8th grader going through your typical awkward phases of life. Except I had to grow up much quicker than most. My momma was diagnosed at the young age of 37 with breast cancer. I had to help with the house work, cooking, cleaning etc. While my dad took care of my mom. Just a few short months later my grandma, my moms mom, passed away from breast cancer. So, not only was I watching my mom go through cancer....I was watching her go through the death of her own mother from the same disease she had.
I am now proud to say that my mom has been cancer free for almost 8 years now.
Except I have that lingering thought that I have a high chance go getting it. But there is always hope.
Lets fast forward to 2008. July to be specific. I had been battling depression and anxiety for almost 5 years by then. So, I was getting ready to go on a vacation with my family and my boyfriend and his family for a last of summer hooray before we moved to college. Which I might add.....I did not get into OSU, frankly I didn't care in high school about grades. So I was stuck going to NOC which was still apart of OSU in Stillwater, but anyway, I was going out with the girls the night of July 18 before the vacation. We get a phone call from my cousin who lives up in Tulsa....well my dad, his sister DJ, and her husband Bruce were also up in Tulsa for a family reunion meeting. My mom nudges me and tells me to turn on the t.v. I turn it on and see on the news an ariel view of a house and a pool. I keep thinking to myself that I recognize this house but I just can't wrap it around my head where it is. Then it hits me....this was my aunt DJ's house. Scrolling across the bottom of the screen "11 year old girl drowns in above ground pool" And my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach.
Stormie.
My little cousins Stormie and Jourdan lived with their grandma, my aunt with their mom.
I'm getting too emotional right now thinking about this, but I think y'all get the outcome.....We lost our little bundle of joy that day.
Needless to say, my depression and anxiety really didn't go away after that. But, there was still hope. Our family has never been so close as we are now. It was a terrible thing to go through and for it to be in the public eye on the news and all in the papers for weeks wasn't any better. But, good came from it.
Now, lets fast forward into college. Lets throw some crappy relationships into all of this. I went through a couple of abusive relationships. That is probably one of the last things I would want to ever admit to anyone, but it happens. More often than not too. It wasn't necessarily physical. I mean there were some physical altercations that happened, but I had quite a bit of mental and emotional abuse done.
I got diagnosed with PMDD....for y'all who don't know what that is, it is where you have the most severe form of PMS not only during your PMS week, but just basically every day.
Also, turning 21 and being single in Stillwater, really isn't the best of times. Social life was all that mattered to me. Frat parties, date parties, the strip, you name it, I was there Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Class.....yeah I went, but I was always too hungover to pay attention. So.....yes I blame myself for screwing up my last year of OSU (after I got in). I didn't fail out, but I did fail two classes. Dad pulled me out of OSU and told me it was time to move back home.
Crap happens. But, the bad stuff always makes us stronger.
I got back into school after I came back home and I am now proud to say that I have my associates. It may not be much, but really....it's a lot better than what I would have if I didn't do anything at all.
An anchor. I have decided will be my next tattoo. It sums everything up into just one simply dainty tattoo.
I am not trying to throw a pity party. I am simply just telling some life stories with you. Basically to let y'all know that you're not the only one going through things. I've been through them all, from death of family and friends, to heart break of boys. But there is always hope.
I refuse to sink.
I also refuse to watch any of yall sink. I am here to talk. I am here to listen. Anything.
I don't care how many trials I may face. From boys cheating on me, to deaths, to just your normal obstacles in the road. I won't go down. I will always hold onto having hope.
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