To understand my story I have to start at the beginning. Before I was even conceived. It was 1981, my parents have been married about 4 year. My older sister is 3. From all the stories I have heard they were a very happy family of three. The only problem that I am aware of was that the woman that gave birth to me did not want to work. She
wanted to be a stay at home mom to my older sister. My dad told her no he needed the help financially. The only way she could stay home was if god forbid she was to get pregnant again.

About 11 months later I was born. My father hated me from the day he found out my mom was pregnant. He was so angry at my very existence that he refused to even name me. I had ruined his life. Now his life was about to become even harder. He only wanted one child. He was already struggling financially and now the full burden of 3 other lives were on him. He truly felt I was Gods punishment for something he had done. I was a curse.

I’m not sure if my mom hated me while she was pregnant with me or if it started after I was born.  All I know is she vehemently hated me. So much so that at 5 years old she told me this very story I’m telling you about how I came to be. She drilled it into my head from my earliest memories that I was not wanted.

I was born Melody Hope but growing up my parents called me Melody No Hope. A memory I had blocked out till recently. Honestly I’m now realizing I’ve blocked out a lot of my childhood memories because they were so traumatic. From birth to 14 when I left home once and for all I was Melody No Hope.

When I left home I thought I had escaped my hell. But I was wrong. Because I was so severely mentally and emotionally abused as a child I could not function like normal people. Everyone believes they are inherently good. That is their default.

I grew up being taught that I was inherently bad. That I could do no right no matter how I tried. I was Melody No Hope and unworthy of love, acceptance, grace, kindness, or anything good thing because those things were only for good people. I did not deserve any of that because I was bad.

I believed this was the truth about myself my entire life. I blamed everything on myself. My parents hating me and abusing me the way they did was my fault. I was bad a born fuck up I deserved it. All my exes that have abused me in every way possible I blamed myself for it. I was bad, I hadn’t done enough not to earn not being abused. When they cheated on my I thought I deserved it because I had not given enough to earn their love and loyalty. I was inherently bad and only good people get love, safety, and loyalty.

So I fought time and again to redeem myself for my existence. I jumped through every hoop ever laid in front of me. No matter how many times I was beat down physically, mentally, and emotionally I would get back up and go again. Not because I was strong though I did gain strength from doing it. I did it because I wanted to prove I was good. That I too could be worthy of love not just temporary acceptance when I had done enough to make everyone happy. Only to lose that acceptance the second I fell short. And I always fell short because the more I gave the more I had to keep up with that standard to prove my goodness. But fighting to be good all the time is exhausting. So I would give up, stop caring, and go back to my default that I was inherently bad and I’ll never find the love and acceptance I was so starved for because that’s only for good people.

This cycle has been going on in my life for 38 years. It has almost cost me my life multiple times. Not because I was depressed but because I was exhausted from trying to find redemption for my very existence that I just wanted to stop existing. I could not take another step yet I didn’t know how to stop. The drive to prove I was good kept pushing me till I pushed so hard thst I was completely and utterly destroyed. To say I was obliterated would be an understatement.

So I Melody No Hope gave up for the last time on December 28th, 2020. That day something had happened with my severely mentally daughter that I almost went to jail for even though she had not even lived with me for the last 3 years because of her harmful behavior towards me and her siblings. I had no control over what my daughter had done when she was out of my home. The mentally health professionals that failed to listen to me or believe me about how dangerous she was should be going to jail not me. I fought to make sure everyone was safe from her. I fought to get her help. Now the police are standing at my front door about to arrest me for something I not only didn’t do. But for something I had no control over at all. I broke.

I went back to my default setting that I must deserve this because I’m inherently bad and I had not done enough to earn my redemption. I gave up. I didn’t care if I was bad anymore. What had being such a good person ever got me? So fine I was going to be bad. I did not care what happened to me. Prison didn’t scare me. 3 hots and a cot. No one expecting anything from me. People having to take care of me the rest of my life. That was a huge upgrade to the hell I was in. Death did not scare me. I welcomed it. No hell I may have gone to could be worse than this. I didn’t even consider heaven an option because that was only for inherently good people. Not people like me. I genuinely, genuinely did not care what happened to me. Since I thought everyone thought I was inherently bad then there was no point in even trying to prove them wrong anymore. In my eyes at the time I was never good enough to earn the rewards of being good even though I had killed off almost my entire self trying to be “good”, so fuck it I would just be bad. It’s who I am right?

So I decided to go bad. Fuck it. Everyone that knows me personally would get it. No one in their right mind lives through as much trauma as I have and still stays good. At least this time I could justify being bad and know that at least everyone would understand. But the harder and harder I tried to turn bad I couldn’t. I could not go after people for revenge. I had nothing left to give. I was too exhausted from my life to even be bad to the people that were bad to me. I’m so thankful for that exhaustion or this story would be ending very differently.

I just gave up on December 28th. I gave up on everything. I gave up on me, on life, on people, on ever finding happiness. I gave up. I was Melody No Hope. Not because of my parents. Because I literally had no hope at all left. My life had come full circle. I was Melody No Hope as a child. I lived like Melody No Hope my entire life. Now I had no hope of it ever getting better. I came to the end of me and all I could do as Melody No Hope. My life had made a complete circle. I went to bed that night one person and woke up the next day a radically different person. Now I’m just Melody.

Melody No Hope does not exist anymore except in my memories. Her life came full circle and her story is now over. The story of Melody is just beginning.

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