My Battle Scar.

I have been working on this one since Idek honestly, I kept on thinking about how unoriginal my last blog post was and I wanted to be original this time.

This is the second time I'm writing everything all over again cause I didn't save my word doc. Fml.
So I have wrote about how I felt about how my family dealt with one of my biggest past mistakes and how I didn't want to live in the same house with them, "Ohana means family". I wrote about how that same very mistake made me have disorders such as eating, depression, anxiety attacks and much more, "Blurry veins".

Wrote about how much our lives mattered to everyone around us and death isn't the solution, "One life, Big Difference". Also tried to be a little motivational. And then the unoriginal paraphrased "let's be mindful." That did help for some weeks, but it stopped.

Because all I needed was to trust myself. My decisions. To believe in myself. This is hard since my self-esteem has been always low. But I can try to make it better. I can't just stay doing nothing doubting myself because my self-esteem is low.

I know why I am unable to write anything positive yet, because my story is in complete. It all started when I was born. When all I ever did was cry. What else was a newborn supposed to do? But I am talking about crying all day and night for a bigger reason. I was in pain. I'm glad I don't remember the pain I felt that time period.

Something was ripping right through both my eyes. Little one year old me, cried relentlessly until people found out what was wrong with me.

By God's blessings and my parents support and strength I survived. I could see. I didn't lose my eye sight. But I could only see from one eye. I'm still thankful, thank you mother for staying near me even when I was unconscious. She didn't eat or drink until I was conscious or I ate. Thank you for believing in me and for not giving up. Well thank you dad, for basically being my hero. I felt loved.
I had tumors in both my eye. I lost my hair too. Life was great, I was spoiled with toys, food and basically all I wanted was handed out to me. I remember my kindergarten time, I had a lot of friends mostly they were boys and we used to play a lot of games. I remember these certain friends, afa, ifa, abu (it's his nickname) and izu (also his nickname). Good old days.

And then I started to grow up and so did others. Things were changing. We weren't kids, people started to make me feel alone. Like I didn't belong. But whenever I come back from home there was someone who'd always wait for my return.

I'd have a shower and come out to the kitchen to see my mother had made lunch for me, after eating both of us would talk. I'd tell her about everything that happened in class and school. She'd always tell me, I'm beautiful the way I am. She always made me feel like I'm not any less than anyone.
Like military men who survived battles and come back with scars, my plastic eye which looks abnormal is my battle scar. It shows how I survived tumor. I should accept it. I did. I made a friend, she became my best friend. But sadly after spending 5 years together in same classes every grade, she went to another school.

In 7th grade, I had the most fun with her, she left to aminiyya. I remember how I used to make fun of her pigtails and I'd eat her interval but only if it turns out to be sausage and she'd gladly share it with me. Well I'd share mine too.

She left. It's okay, she'd always be one of my closest friends. I just have to make another one right? How hard can that be? 8th grade wad good, I did great. I was enjoying classes. But couldn't make any good friends. It's okay. And then I don't remember when, but my mother got sick. I forgot to mention how she invested the time she should had taken care of herself by taking care of me. Not eating and drinking while taking care of me, not using bathroom and just being glued to her child, that made her loose her kidneys. Till today I still blame myself for that. If only she actually took care of herself and then me. If her health was her first priority.

She got very sick, that she had to leave abroad. At the airport, I remember how everyone was crying but I wasn’t and neither was she. I was scared to touch her. She was fragile. She was pale. I could see her bones. She was that thin. I didn't want to hurt her more. I was unsure if I should just shake her hands and just let her leave. But one my aunts urged me to hug her. I'm glad I hugged her, I'm glad she hugged me back. That was the last hug I got from her. The last time I felt her. The last time I saw her. I couldn't see her before she was buried in white. I lost my strength. I lost the biggest part of me.

That's when things changed more, the only person who'd ask me about my day, made me feel special, made me feel loved is no longer there. None of my other family members asked me about how I really felt about all this. I needed to share my thoughts. To who? My friends? I got none.

I met this boy on Facebook, he was my cousin’s age only one year bigger. He also studied in the same school as me. He said he understood me, all I needed was someone to tell me how they understand how I feel and all I wanted to hear was “hey I'm here for you. It's going to be okay, your mother's in a much better place”. I told him for first things about my battle scar he didn't seem to care about it, he was no nice to me. We shared numbers and I liked him. This was the first time a guy actually talked to me and didn't cringe. Didn't make me feel ugly. Didn't run away from me. Who knew that would change? So I went abroad and came back with a gift for him, I missed a week of school now I was in grade 9th. I gave my cousin the book and told him to give it to him. Also he saw me that very same day. I was so happy that I finally saw him and he saw me. He never made me feel ugly before, that's because he never saw me before.

The next day, you can play sad music here. "Loabadey"(a name they created especially for me) was invented, ladies and gentlemen my name changed. He and his classmates called me names. I used to cry in my class. When I could no longer take it I went home. I used to skip school by faking a headache or something. Did no teacher saw this? How they bullied me? How I cried in my class? Did none of my family notice or even bother to ask me why I cried late at night or in the shower? Why I don't want to go to school? Didn't anyone want to ask me what's wrong?
Of course, if there's anything wrong it's me. I started to fail, in fact I failed my o levels and I'm glad I did. That's when my family started to taunt me. Go to school and you're called names for you. Come back home you're a failure, you're useless, all you do is sleep and yes your mother died so she didn't have to see her daughter become all of the above.

That is why to this day I don't like my family. I don't hate them. I love them. Everyone has bad qualities, and I dislike their bad qualities. Heck I have bad qualities too. I remember everything they said. Especially my dad. He was never there for me at that time. He was there for me when I was fighting against tumor. He made me feel like what he did for me back then was some what a waste. At that point I felt useless, unwanted. No one loved me. I remember how everyone said I was running after him, how dad put me in the dark room. How the boy who bullied me texted me that he'd kill me. I wished I was dead. Sometimes I really do wish I was.

Because even today I can't love my self. I lost all my confidence. I no longer believe in me. I don't know how to socialize. I fear dark. I fear situations that make me talk to others. I fear about what they think about me. Even when people aren't judging me I still feel like they do. And they hate me. I hate public places because I can't get rid of the feeling of being watched. Like they are watching at me in disgust.

This should end in a positive note, we all are beautiful the way we are. When they called me those stupid names if no one stood up for me I should had stood up for myself. What others think about you doesn't matter. Sure it still does matter to me, I might say I don't care but deep inside I actually do. I don't know when I am going to actually love my self and be confident and be the girl I really am. But I am looking forward to be the person I truly am.

The real me. Who is hiding behind all these self-esteem issues and negativity? If that little girl could fight for her life and her eye sight, this big girl can love herself and be optimistic about life. 

Everything starts from you and ends with you. You start thinking negative, you start feeding it and it will grow strong. Stop feeding into your negative thoughts and look onto brighter things in life. Feed your positivity, grow it. when everyone goes right you go left. It's okay to be different, not everyone has to go left with you.