Hmmmmm.....
What can I say about my life?
These sort of topics are terrible for the ENTP we tend to go over board.
What does it feel like to walk in my shoes?
I feel like my life is like one big complex puzzle. It's very confusing, but I can make basic sense of it.
I didn't start talking until I was about four years old. At the time my parents were Reformed christians. They would often beat me with a wooden stick made from pine.
As a child I have never really fitted in as such. Other kids would bully me and call me a freak and a retard. I was chased up trees, had rocks thrown at me, spat on and sworn at. The worst memory I have of school was when the other kids tried to shove my head down the toilet. I still am a little uneasy around toilets today.
I was never afraid to talk back to my teachers. My teachers would often shout at me, call me a retard and tell me that I would never amount up to anything. I was often placed in the handicapped/disabled room. This hurt me as a child, I often hid up trees and refused to come down. I knew I was smarter than the teachers. This only got me into more trouble.
I often found myself protecting my younger brother (who has a low functioning form of autism) from bullies (they would often throw shoes at him in the playground). During this time I was only eight years old. Most kids feared me.
After the death of my youngest sister I feel very depressed. I was nine years old. It shook my family apart. I gave up at school. I spent most of my time either drawing or reading in the library (where I knew no one would hurt me) I would often cry and hide in the bushes. My mother pulled me out of school and homeschooled me. My mother would try to teach me but me and her would argue allot. Shes an ENFJ by the way. In the end she gave up and I taught myself. I spent most of my teens isolated.
I tried to commit sucicide at the age of thirteen by stabbing myself in the throat with a rusty knife on the beach. Thankfully someone saw what I was about to do and stopped me. Its not often I like to talk about that day. I usually have dreams about that place.
I began engaging in martial arts when I was fifteen years old.
Before the death of my sister I was figure skating and playing netball.
I was very close to my uncle. He would often pick me up from my house and take me to his farm. We would do things that my father didn't have time to do, like take me to the beach, eat ice-cream and go to the park. It devarstated me when he passed away, I was sixteen at the time.
I was bullied allot at my martial arts club (I was doing ITF Taekwon-do at the time) they would bully me by the fact I was depressed and on medication. They would often call me punching bag. I gave up after the death of my uncle. I would let people win and knock me out. It felt good. For a split second I felt free. I left when I was seventeen. I had injuried my right knee and required surgery. My mother didn't so much for me. She only cared about how much it was going to cost her and my father.
Even though I come from a large family of ten siblings I still felt alone. I'm not angry at my parents. I'm only angry at myself.
At the moment I am studying for my diploma in visual arts. I still live with my parents and I am seeing a psychologist (my mother doesn't know about this). But once again I am battling with depression and I have failed school, but I am learning. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.
There have been some good things that have happened in my life too.
I have gone back to studying martial arts (I am now doing IOGKF Karate)
I am starting to get along with my mother and I am learning about myself everyday.
