Down the Rabbit Hole: Beginning

I started Down the Rabbit Hole when I was blogging at Living a Faerie Tale and started my mental health journey with a PPD diagnosis. Since changing this from Moon in a Cup (after giving my photography site it's own domain) to Faerie Barista I had combined all the two blogs together, meaning you can find my Down the Rabbit Hole posts here.

There are two sides to me, there has been for quite some time I just used to be better at hiding the darker side. I was the master of the fake smile, the hearty laugh, and acting happy. I wanted to hide half of myself. I didn't think there was a point to sharing my dark thoughts.

Even now it's hard for me to talk about it. But I think it will be therapeutic to me, and as Alison pointed out when I was debating it on FB it might be helpful to someone else that is going through this same thing.

Since I was a teen I had dark thoughts, thoughts of wanting to hurt myself, that maybe I would be better off if I wasn't around, if I had never been born. I hid them. I kept them to myself. I didn't even write them down in my journals worried that someone would see them and think I was a freak. But as far as everyone saw I was a happy go lucky girl. I had friends, I read, I had hobbies, I went out, and I didn't fear time with myself (aka I enjoyed going to the movies alone since I was 13).

Constantly I felt like I was always doing something wrong, I mean I had to if I wasn't happy, if I thought about hurting myself, I had to be doing something wrong.

Sometimes it was a comment about my body, how I looked if my red hair was natural. "Does the carpet match the drapes?" "How big are those boobs?" Being called a slut cause I was bigger in the chest area than other girls my age. I felt dirty like my very being was cause for people to treat me differently. I started wearing boys pants, baggy clothes, covering up.

I remember one summer wearing a pair of shorts and my mom asking me to go for a walk. I threw a fit cause I wanted to change into pants. My mom kept asking me why, I cried and said cause I'm fat, my thighs touch. But I mean that is normal teenage girl stuff, just the way it affected me made me feel like something was wrong.

It was hard for me to think about myself, so I didn't I thought about my friends, I hide away the parts I didn't like and I perfected the fake smile. There will be more to this series, I will try to post in it once a week.

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