Short answer: Yes. It is. I’m just like this offline as well.
I wasn’t always this… peppy and loving. I’ve always wanted to help people, but I used to be much more introverted, and honestly, kind of a bitch at times. I didn’t want a whole lot to do with people, and my overall view of humans were that they were a bunch of worthless fucks that couldn’t do anything other than make shit worse, with a few exceptions. Even then, I still tried to help those close to me, but otherwise, fuck everybody else.
It wasn’t until all the things that happened…
It started at 15. I had a girlfriend that I liked very much (let’s hope so right?). She was intelligent, philosophical, goth, and super pretty. She had this beautiful, flawless and absolutely stunning ebony skin. Her hair, her eyes, her mind, her everything was just wonderful. We spent a lot of time together, but there were things that I didn’t notice until my little brother finally pulled me out of the relationship. She could be calculating and cruel. She would make me feel horrible in such a way that I was certain that is was my own deal, my own thing, my own thoughts, and my own actions. She was good at manipulating me, and excellent at putting a wedge in between my friends and I. So, after about 6 months, my brother managed to get me to understand what the hell was going on, and we split.
Right after that (15), I got into a relationship with this adorable girl that was a friend of mine. (I have problems with being alone, and I’ve been in relationships almost consistently since I was 13.) Anyway, we made an interesting pair visually, as I was 5’10” at the time, and she was 4’7″. She was cute and bouncy, and we’d never had any problems with each other, we hung out a lot. It was cool. Well… then we got together. Almost immediately she began this tendency of kicking me. Like full out fucking booting me, most often in the legs. She thought it was hilarious. That was blatant enough that our relationship only lasted about a month.
My next relationship (15), was fine, she had dyed black hair and a punk/goth style that attracted me quite a bit. She was smart, and I learned quite a bit about relationships from her. She was very quiet, and I was never sure if she was upset or not, and being a very insecure person at the time (not that that’s changed a whole lot, now I’m somewhere between fairly and somewhat insecure, but that’s beside the point), I was certain that she was, and it was my fault. There wasn’t really any fault there, in fact she was pretty cool. After we broke up, she visited me in the hospital, worried sick, after I had smoked a blunt laced (unknowingly) with angel dust.
Then from 15-16, I got together with a girl who had pretty short blonde hair, was somewhat short herself, smart, and quite eccentric. She would eventually end up being a stalker for a while. In fact, I still periodically have people asking me who she is, as she still tries to friend people that are friends with me on Facebook. So, that’s fun. Overall, our relationship was okay, there was nothing terribly noteworthy, other than the stalking.
After her, again at 16, I began my on again off again relationship with the mother (S) of my oldest two (A, B). It was short lived the first time around, as she disappeared on everyone for several months, after saying she would be gone for like two weeks. During the time she was gone, I figured our relationship was done for, you know? She wasn’t around, couldn’t be contacted and just straight up disappeared on everyone, so…
I got into a relationship (16-17) with another girl I had met through a friend. (To be mom ended up coming back about 2-3 weeks after we got together, and was pissed I started dating someone else) She was also in the goth scene. She was hyper sexual and flirtatious. She was pretty, but not the most intelligent person I had dated. She was very outgoing and we had lots of interesting conversations nonetheless. Constantly, somehow, everything was my fault. Now, granted, my bipolar problems had begun to get really bad at this point, and I was up and down pretty quickly, so I know I was difficult. Anyway, I had found us a place to live. Got everything set up and got us moved in. Things started going downhill pretty fast. She had said that she would hold a job, and I could be the one helping around the house to cut out some rent, then subsequently turn around and yell at me for not getting a job. After several months of this, she kicked me out. Told me to go, and wouldn’t sleep in our bedroom if I was there. So I obliged. I left, because what was the point? Although, that sucked, because it left me without a place to live. I found out a couple months later that she had been cheating on me with one of our roommates nearly the entire time we were at that house.
There were a couple uneventful relationships while I was 17. They were all while I was homeless, and had some interesting dynamics, but at least they weren’t bad.
At 18, I got back together with my daughters’ other mom, and we had quite the ups and downs. She’s alright as a person, and I still don’t think she’s a bad person, but there were… problems. She didn’t take care of herself, and she always turned things on me. I made my fair share of mistakes over the time, and there were more than a few times that I was a total bitch, but in the entire next four years we were together, she never bothered to get a job, and took less than decent care of our children, leaving blistering, bleeding diaper rashes, under feeding them, not giving them baths, not brushing their teeth, and more. I was on and off with jobs at that point, but for about a year of the relationship I worked 60-100 hours a week, making it difficult to keep up on taking care of the babies. I would then come home and have to be the one to clean everything up most of the time, and if I didn’t, she would go to R and his ex and tell them about how much I didn’t help around the house, and how lazy I’m being and other fun things.
22 marks the year that I left the other mom, and I got with her… My beautiful, intelligent, terrifying, abusive, psychotic ex that fucked my entire world. I spent the next two years spiraling down into this horrible state of mind. She abused me in every possible way. Biting, kicking, hitting, pushing, rape. She would hold me down if I dared try to exit a fight, and if she didn’t hold me down, she blocked my exits. She effectively separated me almost entirely from reality, and I delved into this alternate world where nothing made sense, and I could not survive without her. She destroyed me completely, and still, sometimes, the world doesn’t quite make sense, though I escaped five years ago this month. I still hold many little triggers from that, and have been unable to rid myself of them.
When I was 24, I got with R. He is one of the only really good relationships that I have ever been in.
So, what’s the point?
All those relationships made me. I’ve been beaten, I’ve been broken down, I’ve been hurt more than I ever thought I could handle, and I’m still alive. Sometimes by a thread, but I’m fucking alive, and I did it.
How does it relate to the whole sunshine deal?
Those horrible relationships are an integral part of the sunshine deal. The hell that I’ve been through, I don’t ever, ever want anyone else to experience, and I want to help others that have suffered, be it small or large, because I know what it feels like to hit rock bottom, and then have someone dig your grave and call it a vacation for you. I’ve been there, and I don’t ever, ever want to be a possible part in putting anyone else in that position.
Those experiences created my kindness. Those experiences created my bluntness. I let all of them walk all over me, and I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone ever do that again.
Because of all of that, I am now here. It took me a bit after her… I had vowed for a while that I would never ever help anyone else ever again. This seemed like a good thought after I escaped, as that whole situation came from trying to help her escape her abusers, or so I had thought anyway.
I love people. I have so much love for everyone. I don’t want to see people hurt. I want to bring as much happiness in the world as I can. If I could collect everyone’s pain, and bear it on my own, I would, because I don’t ever want anyone to know how I feel. I don’t want anyone else to ever be able to relate to the darkness in my life.
So I call people sunshine. It makes people smile. Sometimes I get weird looks, but overall, people like it, and I’m serious about it. You are sunshine. You are so fucking bright and beautiful and too many of you will never know, because you’ve been beaten down too many times, by yourself or others or a combination of both. You light up somebody’s life, whether you know it or not. You are sunshine. You are love. You are beautiful. I love people. I love individuals. I want to help, and I want to bring a smile to your face, whoever you may be, and so I tell you:
I love you fellow human, I love you sunshine. I’m grateful you’ve made it another day, and I’m damn proud of you for doing it. I hope the best for you. I don’t have to know you, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you gather a little more happiness in your life. What matters is that you treat others with respect and kindness.
I don’t ever expect to be treated the same way I treat others, I just do it, because the more beauty, the more happiness, the more love there is in the world, the faster humanity will get to the Utopian point that we all so desperately crave. If you don’t want more wars, if you don’t want more death, if you don’t want more pain in the world as a whole, be kind. Love like there’s no tomorrow, because there might not be. Forgive any transgressions, because you have a right to not be controlled by the hate you feel for someone. Give and receive joy and happiness like a child giving their most prized rocks.
You dear reader,
You are beautiful.
You are love.
You are wonderful.
You are joy.
You are happiness.
You are sunshine.
Thank you for reading, and have a beautiful day.