I Used To Be Extraordinary- A Metamorphasis

I was a young, mentally ill girl who liked almost everything about her personality. Gandhi said "be the change you want to see in the world" and I followed that even before I'd heard it. Those are truly words to live by, said by an extraordinary and admirable man. I strove, with every fiber of my being, to be kind, generous, free spirited, innocent and wise. It was perhaps with my first venture into Paganism that I really took to heart the idea of harming none, or at least causing the least amount of harm possible. I was empathetic and tender hearted by nature, probably due to knowing what it felt like to be abused, bullied, and persecuted, but this new thought took it to the next level.

I'm sure you're thinking, well, it should be obvious that one would want to do as little harm as possible and yes, you're right, but how many of us actually follow through with that golden rule? I became Wiccan at 13 and at 14 I stopped eating meat, not only for the health benefits, which I really only used when trying to justify myself to meat eaters who thought ethical reasons were too hippie-ish, but for spiritual reasons and to further my mission.

I was the kind of person whom people always referred to as "older". Not older in years, but more mature, more serious, more concerned with the problems of the world. I wasn't out doing drugs, drinking, or sleeping around like most of my school mates, but rather I was studying world religions, philosophy, and ethics. I got comments like "you're only (insert any age between 14 and 23 here)?" with a slight tone of shock. Yep, I was the bookworm, the weird nerd who never fit in, which made me happy.

By the time I hit 16 or so I was pretty happy with who I was. I was serious and aware of the world around me, seeing things that needed to be changed and I was proud of my passion for helping others. I was goofy and silly and free spirited, dancing through fields of wheat on my way to the bus stop or braiding flowers in my hair to wear to school. I was naturally a romantic and, while still believing in feminism and equal rights, being swept away the the idea of chivalry, nobility, and fairytale worlds.

I was extraordinary. I don't mean this in an egotistical sense, but rather just it's true meaning, beyond ordinary. I was not like the rest of the people I knew and I loved that. The rest of the world seemed cold, heartless, cynical, and hard. I wanted to be like those Buddhist monks you see in movies who are ever wise with love and kindness in their hearts. I was different and I didn't think the world could ever change me. After all, I grew up being abused, and still did not turn cold, I was bullied in horrible ways and still did not turn cold, my father was even murdered when I was 16, and still I did not turn cold.

As I got older, many bad things happened to me. Life has never been kind to me, but still I held out hope, kept faith in humanity, believed in everyone's innate kindness and goodness, and believed things would all work out for the best.

Then something happened and my world crumbled. My husband, whom I had been with since I was 15 and right after our 4th wedding anniversary did something horrible. That something is a long and painful story that may someday get it's own post but for now I'll paraphrase. He cheated on me. No, wait, it gets worse. We lived with the woman he was sleeping with and her family. It was all in front of me, flaunted, rubbed in my face. Being bipolar, I became very sick, very depressed. I became suicidal almost instantly and, for that reason, did not have the strength or courage to stop what was going on. For six months they did this and all I could do was cry and try, occasionally, to kill myself. My husband, who was no longer the man I knew, became more and more emotionally and verbally abusive, finally escalating to physical violence. The other woman was also horribly abusive and manipulative. She knew just the right thing to say to keep me down and was purposefully driving me to suicide.

Thinking about it is like watching a horror movie in my head. I can see myself, but it's not myself. A dissociated image caught in a fantastical play. There are a few main images I can't seem to get rid of. I can see myself, crying, sobbing in the room upstairs while they were downstairs, fucking like animals. I can see myself, that last time I tired to kill myself with the bottle of pills.. how I took them one at a time at first, and then more at a time until they were gone. I can see a myself, crying on the end of the bed, I see myself trying to stand up and being pushed back down by my husband's hand on my throat. These thoughts, replaying themselves over and over and wondering why and how this could happen to me, of all people. I tried so hard to be a good person, to be there for those I love, to do good for the people and the world around me, and this is what I got in return.

And so I changed. In ways I never thought possible. In ways that make me dislike who I am. Not because I am a bad person or because, being so hurt, I in turn began to hurt others, because I did not. Instead, what I dislike so much, is that I'm like everyone else.. cynical, distrustful, cold and blocked off to feeling anything. I am no longer extraordinary. I am like everyone else. I cannot be the change I want to see in the world. I cannot dance, I cannot love, I cannot enjoy the things I once did. My life is a drab, gray, mass of days which are all the same, punctured by heart breaking stabs of agony. My faith in humanity is lost, as am I.