Victim Mentality Gets You Nowhere

I admit that for a long time I allowed myself to feel like a victim; as if something unjust had been cast upon me. Maybe I was being punished or doomed to live a life filled with unhappiness? After the departure of my father, my mother, with her new found freedom, decided she needed to taste it to its fullest, and left me alone many a times. Now I was not completely abandoned. She always made sure to prepare a meal for me and I had more than enough clothes, and my health was always of top concern for her. The alone part refers to the emotional side of me. I desired to be loved, but in other ways. My brother had always fulfilled that part. He always took the time to talk to me about serious issues. He was the person I wanted to emulate in my life. If there was ever an opposite to the victim mentality type of person, he was it. He watched the domestic abuse in our family for six years before I came along. He endured the beatings and rejection firsthand. And yet, it seemed to have had a different affect on him than it did on me. He used to tell me "What won't kill you can only make you stronger." I did not understand at the time where he gathered such strength from. It was only until I became a mother that I understood. He had become a father at a young age, and wanted to give his child the opportunity for a better childhood than the one he had. He left to the Army about a year after our father left home, and although we wrote letters back and forth constantly, I greatly missed his company. My mother's company would have sufficed, but she did not make herself available to me. Holidays were the worst because I longed for family gatherings. A Thanksgiving Dinner or a family Christmas Present opening session where things that I used to dream about. I hated having to go back to school after winter break because the questions never failed, "How was your Holiday? What did your family do for Christmas? What did you get for Christmas?" My answer was always the same, "Nothing." I refused to accept that those instances would never occur in my household, and I remained steadfast in my longing for a family that ate dinner together and went on special outings together. However, when reality hit, and Christmas came around, I usually ended up spending it a friend's house, watching them all open their presents to each other, wishing that I had a family such as theirs.

These instances provided the opportunity for me to feel sorry about my life. Depression, was easy for me. Sleeping the majority of the day seemed like the best way to deal with my internal sadness. I was not willing to try drugs. I did not have it in me to disappoint my brother in that way, so I stayed away. However, I eventually found a way to medicate my pain, and it has turned out to be one of the most difficult battles I have had to deal with.