(I posted this on the Tavern, but for some reason my computer is very slow with BlogClan so I will post it here, and now it will be in both places!) (Also oops typo gaahhh I don't like - gh)
Hey everyone, so if you did not know, today is my Clanniversary. October 20th.
Now for some people, that would be it. But BlogClan – you don’t know how much you mean to me, what you have done to change my life. So I am ready to tell you.
Now, I tried to make this as to the point as I could. Other things that contributed to this story have been cut because it would be a lot when this is all that was needed to tell you the message. So lots of details are gone, such as what my sister did to me over the years, as well as when I talk about friends, they aren’t the only thing that drove me to act the way I used to. This does not make them any less true though, so if I ever mention this story again or something about it that isn’t mentioned here, then this is why.
I’m also not saying that every part of my life has been dark up until this point. I remember plenty of pleasant, happy times throughout my years. My life is a good one and I am grateful for it. But the experiences I mention are what affected me and my mindset the most.
Speaking of mindsets, I want to let you know I don’t mean to offend anyone about the mental illness (Something like it? Conditions?) that I say I hate. That was me when I was between ages eleven to early on when I was thirteen, that was how I felt at the moment and I have no excuse. I do not mean to offend anyone. I hope you understand.
Growing up, I was an unusual kid. From a young age I was nervous about simple things I found hard and had tics I'd preform because I felt like I needed to do it in order to stay safe. I also didn't pick up on social cues, and I never thought too much about what I did, how it impacted others. Yet I also cared about everyone's feelings. I was the person who started crying if anyone else did out of my feeling sorry for them and wanting them to feel better, I was the person who avoided things that could please one person but hurt another, told white lies in order to keep everyone happy. I backed out of fights.
I was the weird kid at school. No one understood – or took the time to understand – why I would suddenly get nervous in recurring situations, why I would suddenly start crying and shaking when nothing appeared to be wrong beforehand, why I wouldn't eat the parts of food I touched with my hands if I couldn't wash them, taps repeated or even blowing air to get germs out of my mouth if someone was coughing.
No one ever cared when I couldn't eat, needed to be sent home, or anything of the sort. Naturally, all this meant I became a easy target to bully. My classmates would mostly verbalize their displeasure with me and my looks, and at recess I strayed around doing nothing.
But somehow, I managed to make a few friends. I met two girls by the names of Sparkpaw and Quietpaw. I eventually wound up in their group, and happily. I soon grew close to Quietpaw. She was funny, friendly, and always listened. We strayed outside the group, drawing art at breaks to discuss, and sought one another out at recess.
One day, I noticed that she wasn't around as much as she used to be. She would make excuses why she couldn't hang out with us. I remember telling her I'd wait at our spot but she would never come. After we kept asking her and waiting, she seemed reluctant to let us know and would find reasons to leave. Then Sparkpaw told me she was transferring schools, and we needed to at least let Quietpaw know. We found her and told her about Sparkpaw. Quietpaw said that she found two friends, and she blankly told us she didn't want to see us again. And that was the last interaction the three of us had. Sparkpaw left for her new school that day. After that, the teasing grew from all my classmates and even teachers, and I never did well in my lessons, and my happiness with art faded whenever the class compared paintings.
I didn't care anymore about how well I did in school. I can say I don't remember anything that got taught to me the last year I was there. In my free time I would read books and every female character that was well-liked by everyone I knew was always tough and suppressed emotions, and they were a tomboy. That wasn't me.
Eventually I left and became home-schooled, but there were two things I would always carry from my time there:
Feelings are not important, with them you are weak and undeserving of everything you get.
No one likes me for who I am, because I am a person who is so far away from anything normal.
So, I stopped caring.
I figured that if I cared for people and all they did was shut me out and hurt me, then why bother? I was some sort of kid who was wrong in the head, never deserving of anyone or anything. These kinds of people couldn't feel emotions, they were aloof and away from society for a reason, they were never smart, never understanding of complex thoughts, feelings, beings, anything outside the husk that basic guidelines are. They don't understand serious, heavy situations, don't cry in the face of death or react to the person who's thoughts are inked by depression. They could never be valuable to anything on a deeper level, a deeper scale.
I wanted to prove this wrong. I was normal, I was, I was . .
I felt like I wasn't. I knew I wasn't. I was excruciatingly aware of my actions and what they did to others now, millions of embarrassing encounters flooding through my head. It was at this time I figured that the reason all that stuff happened at school was because of me. Why wouldn't it be, with all my habits and my anxiety and my personality – I felt like I acted as those people who couldn't see or know what was going on under my own nose. I blurted out things, I had no filter when it came to talking to people! I felt like I was mentally unstable. I looked in the mirror everyday and saw a person ugly, worthless, and told myself so. When tutors came, I put on a cheerful demeanor, having them see a person who was happy all the time and who brushed off more serious things. After all, that was what was expected of me, right? A person who shares what I do is wired differently, they are no more than a 2-D person who rotates on a loop of basic enjoyment. Their tears are not real.
I hated what I thought I was.They are so stupid, so crazy, that no one would want to be around . As soon as you realize what's going on, your view of them suddenly changes and you want to get away. You are suddenly disgusted and think they are not a really a person. Your relationship with them becomes messed up and you want to end it. That's me.
I looked at my faces whenever I was feeling anything less than happy, and saw something that looked comical. Of course it did! NONE of this could possibly be there, I didn't have the mentality to experience it, to understand pain.
Whenever my impulsive side came out, I would stretch it further so it looked like I was joking. But I wanted to make it stop and I just hated myself more for this oblivious personality.
I couldn't believe I had lived like this for so long and not picked up on what I was doing to others!
That was when I started to hit myself. I would do it when no one could see, I would pound my head, I would pull at my arms, I would hit my legs and my knees and clutch my head, pull my hair until the roots became sore. I knew this would make me feel worse in the long run, but I couldn't stop.
I hated the way I was. No one would ever like me again. And there was nothing I could do about it.
I tried telling my parents, but they didn't take it seriously. Even when they caught me hitting myself once on the arm, they told me to stop briskly and that was that.They couldn't even stop the hurt from my sister, saying that if they broke up the fights and insults it would make her worse. They couldn't control her.
I'm still hesitant to admit this, but I think one of the only reasons why I didn't give up is because I wanted to impress everyone after a lifetime of not being able to do so. I wanted to make them feel all the power that comes in emotions through stories, art, anything. I wanted to show them that I could be more then how everyone thought those brains functioned. But I couldn't. I did not have any self confidence in my work and constantly found reasons why it was not good enough. That what I did would not make them feel, it was like a failed attempt at a comedy. The other reason is because I felt bad for the people who knew me well if I wanted to do something drastic, although some spark of me didn't want to die. I clung on to that belief, but the fact I didn't want to die wasn't enough to make me feel better, for whatever reason.
I was lost. I was hopeless. I didn't know what to do.
And then I found BlogClan.
The morning I joined, I remembered a video from some time ago talking about BlogClan. Deciding I'd give it a visit, I checked out the Welcome page. The first thing I read, and I quote, "I’ve noticed in my time that a lot of us are those weird kids, you know, reading the “magic fighting cats books” and daydreaming. Here, we comfort and care for each other more than you can ever imagine. When you first get on here, know that we all understand what another’s going through. " I was surprised. A bit dumbfounded, really. Could a place on the Internet ever be willing to act this way? Could it ever be that meaningful?
Interested, I read further, and kept staring at everyone's descriptions about their time on here. I still didn't believe it. Finally I got to the part about The Hug Page, and reading about how they were willing to give advice and comfort – I stopped reading.
I went right away to The Hug Page and prepared to comment. But what was I to say? So many problems had built on me over the years, how could I pick just one?
For some reason, suppressing feelings was something I did, as it was what you're supposed to do in my mind. I could never talk about them. But here, I actually felt comfortable.
I decided to start simple, and tried to sum up the story of Quietpaw, whom by this time I called Quietviolet. I mentioned some other things as well. Then I noticed you needed a name before you could comment. Now, I had spent years wanting the perfect Warriors name for myself, and went through stages where I didn't connect with them and always made new ones. But this comment couldn't wait. I needed to think of one, and quick.
Not quite knowing what I was doing, but at the same time knowing it was the right choice, I typed 'Snowbreeze' in and posted.
And that's how you've come to know me. When my comment got replies, the flood of support was incredible. I was a total stranger – and these people accepted me. I fervently started replying to all those who helped me, probably over-reacting with my thank-yous, but to me it was unbelievable. This amount of kindness – from people who had no idea who I was – I was floored. Until then, I had doubted its existence.
I made a pact then and there to always reply to whoever helped me, and I would help others so they could experience the relief I did. Sure, I acted as my weird self, and may not have done or said what is normal or correct, but this got gently corrected, and I learned how to better myself so I would be happy with me as a person. I felt understood and appreciated, and I broke out and embraced my old girly side which I had changed after so much exposure to not being accepted that way. I also got inspired to know my parents and now I have strong bonds with both. I joined classes and made some friends. I felt better about my anxiety and let go of my tics.
BlogClan will always be more to me than an Internet site about cats. This place made me feel like life was worth living again. And for that, I will always be grateful.
I'm not saying that all problems will be over. That's the way life is. And sure, there will be times I slip up, but I now have the confidence that it can be figured out and be okay as time goes on.
BlogClan, you have changed my life in so many ways. I thank Fallenshadows, for being so caring, Willowstep, for all the conversations we started, Spidersong, for the goofing around we get to do, Wavesplash, for inspiring me, Darkpaw, for all the times we got to talk on the Wiki, Daisyfrost, for being there, Silverpaw, for all the times you gave amazing advice, Foxtail, for your kindness, Iceflower, for being a great listener, Swanfeather, for being a joy to talk with, Blueheart, for the funny, friendly chats, Sundance, for your optimism, and anyone who had noticed and cared. I even thank those who don't know me too well and took the time to read my story.
BlogClan, from the bottom of my heart, know I truly mean it when I say –
Thank you.