Meet Me at Rock Bottom
Hola Mi Gente!
I think I've written this first post dozens of times, a dozen different ways, in 7 different places over the last 4 months, yes.... four months. So, before I lose the nerve to proceed with this blog, allow me to introduce OR, reintroduce myself- depending on who you are reading this- my name is Betsy Perez, but you can call me,Bizzy, and I am a survivor of child sexual abuse, living with Borderline Personality Disorder(BPD) and Bi-Polar II Disorder. I know the whole thing is a mouthful, and the BPD sounds a little extra but, it doesn't mean I have 6 "personalities," I'm just a bit emotionally disturbed..... as if that sounds any better.
So, a little about me before I really go in and possibly scare you away with the madness, I'm a 24 year old Dominican artist living in NYC, and I started being sexually abused around the age of 5, until about the age of 12, by different men both in and out of my family. For most of my life, my abuse was like any other childhood memory, to me it was literally whatever since it had became so normal. However, now as an adult, I'm struggling with myself, my womanhood, all the things that are, "me," because of the sexual abuse I experienced. I am now realizing it has been at the root of all my insecurities and the year of mental and emotional chaos I've been suffering, some year huh? It is also at the root of my loving gift to be extremely detached from my loved ones unless I'm fucking you on a regular basis; why I attach sex to feeling wanted; how I struggle just to say, "no"; and the best one of all, how I literally have no trust in this very body I live in. I'm destroyed from the inside out and 2014, was my rock bottom.
In January, I suffered my first anxiety attack ever in LIFE! It was... oh so real, and; the beginning of the end without realizing. Not too soon after, I couldn't function anymore and was faking da funk, so haaaaard, it was exhausting just to take a legit,"Life is cute," selfie for the Gram. I had to leave my second job as a Teaching Artist, that I loved, because I couldn't handle the pressure and I was so mentally unstable. I've been sent home from my current job for break downs. I remember crying from the moment I woke up and having all these self-hating, suicidal, self harming thoughts that began taking over my mind. I started smoking my life away; Wake and Bake...was a bitch's mantra. I wouldn't eat for days and have lost about 25 pounds. My apartment, like my life, a mess; I would sleep on mountains of clothes, surrounded by garbage, sleeping in what seemed to be EVERY LITTLE THING I was feeling, and thinking, inside. I stopped reading because I didn't want to be alone in my head, I stopped eating cuz I hated my body. And to top it all off, I couldn't even understand why.
I've hit rock bottom and, I feel so broken. You put your "representative" on for the world and keep it pushing because, how do you tell your girlfriend everyday,"Babe, I slept all day cuz I don't have the energy to even shower,or cuz I wanna kill myself," every single day, or because sleeping is just so much more easier than living. How do you say that to your loved ones on a daily? I won't lie, I'm ashamed, I feel weak, unaccountable, debilitated; I'm torn down mentally, spiritually and physically.
Over the weekend, an amazing friend told me,"Not everyone is lucky enough to hit rock bottom." And I wanna believe him. So, I refuse to stay here, in rock bottom. It hurts, not just me but those around me also. I've come to a place where building me up is the only option, and to keep it 100, I don't know what the fuck I am doing but, Imma do it all.
I hope another girl or boy, reading this can get something out my story because a huge part of why I decided to do this blog too, is to help strip away some of the stigma and taboo surrounding mental illness and sexual abuse in our communities of color. Being abused WAS NOT my fault, and having a mental illness isn't either. Although I still struggle with serious bouts of guilt, I can't help but to want to share, and turn the struggle, the pain, the beauty, the magic, the journey of recreating and rebuilding myself back up, into this messy yet, beautifully packaged gift to the world called, a blog, because as an artist, I feel I have a responsibility to do that.
Now... the only way is up.
Thank you for letting me vent on ya screen and being part of my healing!