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wtfistheinternet-blog1 · 8 years ago

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Your Voice

Everyone deserves a voice. You, me, everyone. Some are silenced, however. Their voice forever lost, forever shushed, forever muted. They feel like no one cares, no one would miss them. They don’t matter. No one listens.

Here you will get a bit of insight into the silenced, unheard voices of some people in my life. Submit your story here.

Personal details have been redacted or modified to prevent any bleed into real life from this post. This is a release for many of these people that they’ve never had, and desperately need and deserve. Any relation to real life events or people is purely coincidental and should not be taken as truth. Huge TW should be considered at all times reading this, as it’s gonna get pretty hard to swallow from time to time.

Thomas It hurt. In more ways than people understand. To some people it was just a thing that happens...like, "hey you're a teenager, you want it"...no; I didn't. I didn't ask for it to happen and I didn't want it to. Looking back, I can see it wasn't healthy...all of the "I love you" 's and all of the saving. All of the "I promise it'll feel good" 's and all of the touching. How do you tell a person you genuinely love and care about that you don't want to be with them that way...? Someone who already feels bad about themself and would take it personally...? They didn't know the mental issues I was dealing with...but that doesn't make it okay...I - and others - have made excuses for what they did but...it wasn't okay...I wasn't okay when it happened...I'm not okay when I think about it...but I'm past it...and I think I'll be okay... -- "Get your butt down here you lazy freak" Wow. That's new. I mean, you've called me a freak before but never like this...is it because I came out? Because I told you something I should be proud of, not ashamed? Maybe...it doesn't matter. Words...floating around my head when I least expect them...chasing through my thoughts when I want to be having fun. Your words have left a permanent mark on my life...I don't think you meant for them to...but they have. Self-conscious about my weight...my clothes...my...everything? You did this to me...it wasn't all you but...you didn't help. You're the one person I'm supposed to count on to love me no matter what...but it feels like I'm an outsider in my own home. -- Does it even bother you? Are you even sorry? You sit and tell me you love me...but god forbid I piss you off...pray that I don't make you so mad...that you hit me. You've done it before...but...I don't think you're sorry. I don't think it bothers you...I think you enjoy it. I understand, taking your anger and frustrations out on me...there's no one else. Better me than yourself right? But that's the thing...I flinch when you move...when you yell at me and I sit there "like a fucking potato" I'm scared...scared of saying the wrong thing, making you angry. Your opinion is still the one I cherish most...I want your love and want you to accept me and treat me well but at this point I'll take the best that I can get. But every time you hurt me, and I run away ready to break...I come back all put together...and here your words "please do the dishes" and "please set the table" and "please feed the dog". Are you even sorry? Do you even care about what just happened? You act like nothing happened...as though it's just another day of our lives....but it isn't. He won't stop you...he never has. A comforting pat on the shoulder is what I get from him...too little too late. -- Taking away the light in my eyes Each day filled with hate and with lies Consuming, I'm trapped Because, hey, life isn't gift wrapped With each second my head starts to doubt the path I followed here And I'd be lying if I said it didn't fill me with fear Watching all the other boys Play with all of their favorite toys But never was I seen Everyone afraid of what it might mean But it's different now There's many ways how No hormone can make you a man It is simply in knowing that you can I will finally look my age My mind and body on the same page Getting hairs on my face It makes my heart start to race Now I'm better than I was before I love myself I smile more No more hate and no more lies A fire igniting behind my eyes No longer trapped I am free Free to be who I am Free to be me -- Stuck Trapped A look in the mirror, just to confirm that you hate what you see A body that belongs to you, The only one you've ever known Long, wavy hair falling down past your shoulders Curves attacking you no matter how you turn A reminder that you aren't who you want to be The mirror image showing your reality Your mind holding a burning desire to see you as you should be A picture of short-cut hair, with piercing eyes to match A lack of curves, and all the right pieces But what you see is what you've got Stuck in a body that isn't yours Trapped like a bird in a cage, wishing to be free Wishing to look in the mirror, just to confirm that you love what you see -- It's happening again. Why? Why? Constricted breathing; short breaths. In and out and out and out. Breathing in is harder. Wait. I did it. In, out, repeat. Head pounding. Nothing heard over my thumping heart. Erratic breathing. Panic. Oh no. Why, why, why??? Not again. Why? Counting; 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 9. 1, 5, 11, 10, 8, 3. Words; ringing, swimming, screaming. Boobs, curves, muscle, lips, girl; why? Why? Head. Spinning. Why? Pain, hurt, ache. Sad. Body. Not mine. Wrong. Bad. Why? Binder? Yes. No. Don't have one. Need. Sweatshirt? Layers? Yes. God, yes. Flat, flat, flat. Height? Short. Sad. Tall? No. Boots? Yes. Tall? Maybe. No. I hope. Packer? Yes. No. Need. Why? Hair? Short. Enough? No. Voice? High. Lower? Please. Help. Lower. Need. Want. Baggy clothes? Yes. No curves. Yay? Not enough. Not enough...never enough.

Elijiah Today a kid asked why I was going in the teachers bathroom Which also happens to be the new gender neutral bathroom I told him I was gender neutral He said “You don’t look like one” Which got me thinking. What does this kid think gender neutral people are supposed to look like? What does this kid think gay people look like? What does this kid think I look like? Also, What does society think people who are not straight or cis look like? Why do gay men have to look like drag queens to them, Or like they know exactly what to wear with what? Why do lesbians have to look like butch, men like women who wear plaid, Or have their hair cut short? Why do people assume people have to look a certain way? We’re all humans and we all have different ways of expressing ourselves Some people, Like me, Can’t. And when we can’t, People assume we are what we look like. I look like a girl. Therefore in that boy’s eyes, I was a girl going into a teacher’s bathroom, Or the gender neutral bathroom. Has everyone been programmed to see ‘gay’? To see ‘lesbian’? To see ‘gender neutral’? And the many others? What is it that makes them think these things? Is it the media? Perhaps. But we’re all human, We’re all different, We all don’t need to look like what society thinks we should look like. Society tends to bunch people together, But we’re all our own person, Keep being yourself, Keep being different. -- I was alone. I was seeking love in places I would never actually find it. I was lost. I was searching for the light that would never be found. I tried everything, I tried being pretty, I tried being needy, I tried being somewhat myself. Nothing worked. I resorted to the forbidden deed that I shouldn’t have. The pain just reminded me that I was alive. Honestly I wasn’t thinking, and then I did start thinking. I started thinking this world would be better off without me. Honestly I would never have done what I was thinking of, but it was such beautiful pain I felt. I hated myself and I only knew that kids had been making fun of me for so many years. Slowly chipping away at who I was, creating someone void of any love. I went on for years like that, a shell of a person. I never thought about myself, never cared to. I didn’t care about anyone else anymore, I had to keep the mask on to keep them happy. To keep them off my back. When I looked in the mirror, I hated everything that was looking back. Nothing made sense, the curves, the hills of my body. Every inch was foreign to me yet I had known it for years. I seemed happy on the outside, no one dares to look in my eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but for someone to look into my eyes meant they saw who I really was. All the years of abuse, all the years alone, all the tears, and now lack of tears. No one would dare look into such eyes. I was angry. Angry at the world, angry at the people who didn’t care about me, angry at myself for caring so much as to get angry. I wanted to get rid of my emotions. I wanted the hurt to end, I wanted the feeling of pure emptiness to fade away. I didn’t want to feel alone anymore. After a while I realized I need my self hate to continue to move everyday. I leaned on it like it was a person, I used it to comfort me. I went on everyday like a robot, doing the same thing. Wake up. Go to school. Go home. Do homework. Sleep if I could. Wake. Repeat. Junior Year came fast, I’d gone through almost three relationships that ended badly. I was ready to give up on whatever I was hoping for from these people. They say that it will get better, they tell you to look on the bright side. True enough there is a bright side but the darkness always burns it out. -- It never ceases to amaze me How people can be so...Ignorant Why do they have to judge? They have no right Everyone has problems. To people who judge, You are not perfect. Neither are we. But you have no room to talk I don’t understand why. Why. That always seems to be my dilema for everything Why do ignorant people judge? Why do you love me? Why did you have to die? Why, why, why? Riddle me this, Why can’t we all just...love? Not even love… Respect. Why is it so fucking hard To just respect someone? I could see if they lost your respect, But it does not give you the right to open your goddamned mouth To speak the words you barely even thought about To hurt someone without care. How fucking dare you. Next time, Just think before those words slip past your lips. Think about what you do to the person on the inside. Words fucking hurt. They hurt worse than any physical pain, They leave scars. You may not see them, but they are there. So think before you open your mouth. Do you want those words redirected towards you? So next time. Just shut the fuck up. Thanks. :) -- You thought it was over didn’t you? No, it never stops. The words pierce your heart, Blood flows cold down your chest, Your vision blurs. Not with tears, No. You don’t know how to cry. You wish you did, Don’t you? People cry to release pain. You can’t, It stays inside Bottled up. You swear it’s going to break soon, You honestly hope it does, Just to get rid of all the poison. You know it won’t though. You know you’re plagued to keep everything inside, Forever. Not even death will release you from your eternal coffin of pain. You know, No matter how hard people try to help, It only makes it worse. Because you let them in, You let them in and wreak havoc on your already fragile state. Only a few you really love, Like the genuine love. Someone with such a scarred past, Shouldn’t know what love is. You do though, You barely learned it, But it’s there. You give it all to them, None left for yourself. You don’t mind though. You don’t mind not loving yourself, Because you never did. Sometimes you think you feel beautiful. Don’t fool yourself. You know you’re not. Many people say so. Some say not to listen to them, That the people wrong, Why are they right? Who's to say they’re not lying to you? -- I am not who I appear to be. I am not what you see on the outside. I’m not who my parents think I am, nor what my siblings think I am. A few people know who I truly am, only a few know who is inside this shell. I wish I could be myself, I preach for people to just be who they are yet I am a hypocrite. I am a fake. I can’t look in the mirror, I can��t look at myself. There are so many people who are lucky enough to be able to be themselves, and I am so happy for them. Yet I am jealous, jealous that I can’t be. I’m not choosing this, I really can’t. I know there will be fingers pointed, someone will be blamed for this and it will be deemed unimportant. It will be pushed into the back of the closet and hidden under a bunch of clothes hopefully never to be brought up again. They will not understand, they will blame and be angry. They think they know who I am because that is who I have presented for so long. They want to keep me safe, but really they want to keep me from myself. They think I will self destruct with this and don’t want to lose the person they have loved for so long. If only they knew that the person they loved died so long ago. They say they know me, they’re absolutely sure they know, but if they really knew me how could they have missed the true me? How could they have blindly pushed me aside and created the perfect person to hold me to? I just want to be me, I want to be able to look in the mirror one day and not hate what I see looking back. I’m already at a point where I’m going to break. After all the years of being the person my parents created, being good, doing what I was told. I’m going to break and it’s not going to be pretty. I’m scared though, scared I might fuck up, like I usually do. This is not going to end well. -- I mean I grew up being bullied and shit, physically mentally and emotionally so i have issues yes but I have learned to have a hard shell, to never let anyone in.... I also learned to love people no matter who they are I don't care what someone is, black, white, gay, straight, redhead, or blue headed, You are a person and You are loved, and I feel like that my whole background lets me love people no matter who they are Now I do not accept people who bully, who are dicks or who know what they are doing is wrong, because that is just ignorance but I do believe everyone deserves a second chance And you gave me a second chance to love myself, to trust someone, to feel loved, to feel beautiful And I don't ever want to give this feeling up And I know things change but yknow what? I'm going to live in this moment And love you, myself and spread as much joy as I can Because I want people to feel as I do with you Like anything is possible and everything is And to be loved and to love one's self And be able to love people as they are Cause everyone deserves to be loved I am different and I accept that, I don't want to be normal And I feel like everyone should accept that they are weird as well because weird is a beautiful thing Now girls, They put on makeup and dress to show skin But I think every girl is so beautiful, they don't need makeup or have skirts so short you can see their ass, not to say if you feel beautiful wearing it... And guys, They are so self conscious, no matter how strong they look, everyone has insecurities, but they shouldn't, they should let people love them for themselves And for everyone who doesn't identify, You are amazing. So brave and so magnificent We are all special Now I say that carefully because no one is better than anyone else No one should ever dare think they are better No matter what color you are No matter how much money you have All those celebrities? They are just like us Human Just with more paper than us Big deal Don't try to be someone else Because there is no one like you and if you want to be someone else, the world will lose the most beautiful thing An individual someone special a snowflake And yes I realize that is so corny but it’s true Now I know there is a whole speech about how "you are not special" True there are millions of high schoolers who are nerds, millions of people in chess club, billions of people who get honors But no one, absolutely NO ONE is like you And that is the beautiful thing in this world The individuality of every single person

Jae So I was picked on a lot as a kid, for various reasons; for being too loud, too quiet, too short, too big, and anything in between. I didn't have many friends, and it seemed like if I made a friend, some circumstance intervened, and they would be gone. In 5th grade a made friends with a girl, lets call her Julia. Julia was nice at first, and shared many common interests with me, mainly Harry Potter. We were absolutely obsessed, read all of the books, and sang all the songs. We would swing on the swings during recess and sing Harry Potter in 99 Seconds, over and over and over again. But then, something changed, she became slightly more physical with me. Jabbing me in the shoulder, "as a joke" she would say. Over time, it escalated. It went from me making terrible jokes, and being told to shut up, to her threatening to make me crumple when she shoved her fingers inside my collarbone, nearly cracking it. Julia called this "move", "The Point". If I did anything slightly embarrassing in front of her, she would glare at me, and hold up two fingers, as a warning of what would come next. She enjoyed hearing me screech as we sat at the lunch table and she shoved her hand down my shirt once again. She began to start slapping me, hitting me, and doing anything she could to "control me". Julia had me on a figurative leash, and I had no choice but to be extremely compliant, or lose the only person that would ever talk to me, and she was very well aware of this. I never told anyone, not a teacher, nor a parent, not anyone I knew. I was petrified of retribution, the fear that when I told someone, she would come back and hurt me even further out of anger. I had to have some sort of outlet, so I began to pull out my hair. Trichotillomania. It was small bits at first, a strand here, a strand there. Then, it worsened, the one time I remember so clearly is sitting in the Challenge room, and pulling out a fist full of my hair as Julie kept tracing a sensitive spot on my neck with her finger. Once she saw what I had in my hand, she screamed and the whole class was focused on me. I bolted out of the room and hid in the boys bathroom the rest of the day. Then my parents began to notice, my mom saw that I was balding, because it was especially noticeable when my hair was wet. I was avoiding school, and played sick at least once a week. She became concerned, and finally, one painful, tearful night, I told her everything that had happened and she started bawling, and promised that it would get better. She went to the school and told them, and they didn't take action right away, my father, working for the town knew that this wasn't right, and threatened to call the police to report physical assault. Well that changed their mind real quick. She was given a 1 day suspension. That. Was. It. 1 day for her to sit at home and watch TV, to make up for the 9 months of hell I had to endure. The year ended, she went to a different school, and I was once again the loner with no friends. I had developed a lot of anxiety, and depression, and feeling worthless, I was an emotional mess, which didn't make my transition into middle school any easier.

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