Perception vs. Truth.

I just want to briefly preface this post before anyone dives into my words. I wrote this a couple of months ago, after a very disheartening family issue occurred. It still hasn’t been resolved as I write this preface and I don’t believe that it ever will. That being said. I wrote this in my response to my feelings over what was happening, and I think I did a fairly eloquent job, albeit angry, but fairly eloquent.

Annnddd…because this is my blog, where I post me. I’m going to publish it. I’m going to jump from the ledge and be honest.


The last few weeks have been…difficult. And yesterday. Yesterday was an eye opening experience.

An eye opening, disheartening, angry pissed off, experience. An experience that has me contemplating perception, truth and the stones that we throw at each other in an effort to appease our own guilt, or our complete and utter misunderstanding of the situation that we are currently shredding.

They say that if you do not observe, study and understand history – then it’s doomed to repeat itself. Sometimes in regurgitated verbatim.

Well, my family puked up and crawled in the past. So much so, that the past really isn’t past it’s become my present – again.

About 10 years ago a fight in my family began with me standing in the epicenter. I was 16 years old,  and had asked my mom to get me out of her home. My step-dad and I were fighting, it had gotten so bad that I couldn’t handle it anymore and my mother was dangerously feeling that if she removed me from her home then it would save her marriage. Me or her husband?? That was the question. And like other times in my short life, my mother did what she had always done. She chose her current bed warmer.

It wasn’t a surprise. And quite frankly I needed to leave – badly. So for me it was a welcome decision and probably one of the best things my mother could have done for me. What was going on in our home was awful, horrendous, dare I use the word – abusive.

Ten years later I can finally call it what it was – abuse. There are no shades of grey with abuse.

Abuse is abuse is abuse.

I was a justifiably angry child and an even more justifiably angry teenager, that could dish out attitude the way teenagers do. BECAUSE – alert the freaking media – I was a teenager. Teens deal with attitude problems and when you are constantly being brow beaten, with liberal doses of mental, emotional and religious abuse, you have attitude. I don’t know anyone that would take what I have taken from those that were supposed to be the adults, the safe place in my life, the people that are never supposed to hurt you, have done what they have done and continued to do. I reacted the way that any normal human being with a shred of self respect would. It made me angry. And I lashed out with a passionate anger and resentment.

It still makes me angry. Especially when the skewed perceptions of others continues to flow into my life. Even though I am a 26 year old adult. And that they still believe that it is okay to slander another human being. What is wrong with my family that they honestly believe that it is okay to talk about anyone the way that they continue to speak about me. And to make matters worse their regurgitated poisonous vomit is being eaten by my brother. My freaking baby brother has joined the ranks of crap eaters and beating the crap out of my character.
Everything and I mean everything that my mother, my step-father, my Uncle and now my brother have said about me or to me is FALSE. And that ladies and gents is not my perception. It’s FACT. It is a slanderous and complete and utter debasement of me. The hell that they have put me through is without a doubt disgusting and repulsive.

Perception vs. Truth…

There perception of me is so skewed. So jacked and messed up. It was skewed when I was 16, 17, 18, 19…and it’s skewed now. I am a 26 year old adult that has fought to change who I am. I have fought, tooth and nail, shredded bleeding finger nails, to crawl out of the hole that I was forcibly shoved in.

I have fought HARD to not believe the vile words spoken to me. I’ve tried to scrub the words out from beneath my skin, to dig the whispers from my ear. To defy their expectations and beliefs of me.

HOW DARE THEY! I don’t know where they get this surety that it is okay. That they believe that I need to be saved, that I need to vacate my current living situation. Yes, I am a 26 year old adult that lives in her grandparents home. I am beyond blessed to have such amazing and I mean amazing grandparents in my life. I thank God for this mercy in my life, that they would open their home to me and welcome me. That they would give me home. Without them, I would be in the grave.

I would be in the grave from my own depression and obsessive suicidal ideation. I would be in the grave because my body refuses to work correctly. Two things that are in no way shape or form my fault. That’s right! My health and my mental illness is NOT MY FAULT. It is not self-induced, it is not my Grama’s fault. It’s real. And I have fought very hard to continue on. To get help for my mental illness. To find a Doctor that can help my body to work better.

I have had to learn that the stigma attached to mental illness is complete crap. Some people have cancer – is it their fault? No. It’s not. Some people have diabetes. Is it their fault? No. Did they self induce the cancer, the diabetes?? No, they didn’t. Do they make up the side effects of having these things?? No.

Ugh! This whole thing makes me so angry.

I am so utterly exhausted dealing with the insanity that is my family.

I am so tired of their self righteous babble about all of the things that I have done and continued to do wrong. Frankly it’s none of their business. Nothing that I do is any of their business. I have reasons for everything that I do, reasons that they are not privy to because and this is the strangest part – I am dealing with the perceptions of people that haven’t spoken to me for YEARS! They know nothing about my life. First of all they have no interest in knowing anything and second of all – I DO NOT TRUST THEM. AT ALL.

I’m not sure when it will be enough for them. When beating me to a bloody, black and blue pulp will be enough for them.

I do not stick my nose into their life. It’s their life. Not mine. It’s none of my business. And quite frankly if someone was speaking about them this way – they would freak. Because its lies and slander. SLANDER AND LIES.

In the real world – you do not walk around ripping another persons character to shreds. It’s not only wrong, it is extremely disrespectful and harmful to their personal and professional lives.


So there you have it, my response to a unendingly annoying and highly cryptic situation that seems to spiral around me in its never ending technicolor glory. I didn’t seem to finish my complete train of thought but it’s mostly fully formed….

Black Sheep Girl 

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