Revelation

I get these a lot and they’re often very wise and inspired and whatever, but sadly the good feelings that come from them last a few minutes, an hour tops. I’m sure I’ll feel back to normal when the xanax wears off. This might even prove to be slightly helpful to somebody on here. If anyone reads it.
So guess what, my life is not about my dead aunt who substituted as an abusive mother for a good 4-5 years of my life. An abusive mother that I loved desperately, although during my preteens (right before she kicked me out, then later committed suicide) I was convinced that I hated her. After her death though I realized that I had just been angry. So, so, so angry. And the only person I’d ever hated and would ever hate was myself. For not being good enough for her love.
Anyway my L-I-F-E is not based on her death. My life is not based on being abandoned a few times by my real mother. My life is not about the only man I’ve ever loved, who repeatedly abandoned and betrayed me when I needed him most. I am not alive simply to please those around me. I am not on this awful planet simply to be hurt and to hurt myself. I was not born simply to be in pain and then die.
My too tough mother showed me how to be alone, she showed me how to never trust men, she showed me how no matter how happy you might be, there will always be life there to punch you in the gut.
My life is about me.
I’m not the sidekick. I’m not the sad little girl in the background who is barely remembered unless she’s speaking directly at you. Even though I’m often ignored then too.
It doesn’t matter though, because my life is about me. I was born to live. I was born on this planet and put through these things so that whatever is out there can judge me. Judge my strength, my heart, and my soul, and see if I’m worth something better.
I’m alive for a reason, and I would be much happier if I focused on discovering that reason, instead of always remembering past traumas.
I was born to live damnit. And so were all of you.
We are more than the people that hurt us. We are more than self-destruction. We are more than the abuse we’ve lived through. We are so much more than the pain we’ve kept inside and let grow to intimidating heights. We’re still here, aren’t we? After all of this bullshit, god awful life we are still here.
Maybe we can just try to hope for some hope. After so much time spent in hopeless darkness a little light would go a long way.
Maybe our eyes just needed to adjust.