Imagine, though. A child growing up witnessing his Mom pathologically lie to escape the crippling situations she had found herself in throughout life. And, as we all know, most children just soak in and mimic what is being done in front of them, rightfully so.
One thing I was certainly a copy-cat of, was my own Mother’s deceitful nature. I mean, with all her success at just, lying, I inherited her bad habits with a smile. From the lies to the infinite amounts of alcohol I’ve had to witness her drown inside of….
“Oye, maldito, comiste el elado?” Mom would ask. Did you eat all of the Ice Cream?
“No. I wasn’t the last one inside of the kitchen, ask him,” I would say back to Mom, prompting her to probe my little brother’s scheming mind.
The next day, I would just go and repeat everything and just point my pudgy little fingers towards my little brother. Can you blame me? I got away with it each and every time, all while gaining so much weight, 299 pounds by the time I had surprisingly made it to high school with my f*cked up grades. On some nights, though, the excuse would change and I would say, “Can I get more ice cream? ‘They’ keep eating it all and haven’t had much.” Worked every time…
It’s okay to laugh as you read this. I’m laughing as I write this. But, my bad habits took an even darker turn as the years went by. With all my trauma from being severely bullied in middle school just for being fat, all the nicknames like Putica (I think it meant pussy for the group of girls that gave me the name), seeing those nicknames carved onto as many desks as possible in each classroom others knew I had class inside of, Alcohol was happily adopted at such a young age while introduced to Marijuana by the Devil himself (A story for another time, haha)…
But, in a way, no matter what kind of hysteria was being flinged my way, I kind of allowed it, let it happen. Like the saying goes, people treat you just how you let them. And, for a long time, I had let people treat me like the oldest piece of rotten dirt they can get their hands on. The insanity had gotten to the point where I began having outburtsts of so many kinds, mainly just crying and yelling to God, “Why am I here? Why doesn’t She love me?”
So, I can see why certain negative stigmas were placed around my name. Still, though. I spent most of my days telling myself, “Yea? Well, even if I’m crazy, no one has made an effort to even get my side of the story. Not a single, ‘But what happened?'”…
I guess my soul is embedding words on a blank sheet of paper to urge others not to listen to the dark labels placed on you because of any struggle you’ve had to face during your hard time. See, what I did was beat myself up every day. Reminding myself that I wasn’t worthy of a better life, prompting me to buy plethoras of Coors Banquest (I might had even bought like 4 of those large cans for one morning) and an absurd weight of marijuana by the end of my week. But, what turned my life around? Not believing those lies. Lies of how I wasn’t good enough in the eyes of the masses just because I was slightly different with a love for Dragon Ball Z and Yu Yu Hakusho at the time…
As you read this, please remind yourself that you are worthy. Worthy of God’s love and even more in this short life we are currently living…
Peace & Love,
Mel ❤
m3l0dicverse 
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