Taria Love Figueroa - 32 Chapters: An Autobiography by: Taria Love Figueroa

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ISBN: 978-1-0983426-1-6

Lately, Ive been starting to regret the day I was born. The more I get older, the less I see there is a purpose for me to be here on earth and I dont feel suicidal or anything. I just dont want to be here anymore.

Today when I woke up, I felt the same as yesterday, just a tiny bit bitter than from the day before. I am unable to see the beauty outside, even though the sun is blooming and the birds are chirping loud (by the way, I love birds, but I cant stand the chirping), this moment instantly defines my day, the mood that I am forced to be in just by waking up. It wont be a good day, Im sure.

Others are happy to wake up daily and find it beautiful and a privilege to be able to experience life and all its wonders, but not me. Life to me is a curse, nothing good has ever happened to me except for when I graduated Basic Training (Yup, they let a nut like me in the Army, I tested one level under Military Intelligence), and the day I gave birth to my beautiful princess my baby girl Zoey Mikayla.

My therapist calls this part of me, the Bi-Polar Taria, Im either up or Im extremely down, I tell her everything in our confidential sessions, and she tells me that I will be okay, for as long I as I have the motivation to get well. These days Ive been an emotional wreck, feeling like I am on a life rollercoaster that seems like its never-ending and even though Ive been feeling like this for the last past two decades. I dont see the light at the end of this ride anymore. Its happening to me 24/7 and 365 days a year. I want to be as strong on the inside, as I am on the outside, but it never happens. Im starting to slowly drift into the unknown and I dont think Ill ever be able to bring myself out of it, on my own like Im always used to doing.

I was doing well, I was working, taking care of home, and the man I decided to procreate with. Even though he wasnt as good of a person or father he pretended to be and God knows he didnt have a dollar to his soul, somehow, I just accepted him, knowing that that was also some form of enabling his inexcusable behaviors and irresponsibility.

Some women have loving, gentle, and kindhearted men, mine was a mixture of everything including evil, deceitful, and he was very disrespectful. I was already feeling the pressure of being a new mom, and he made these feelings worse. I didnt come home to kisses after working 12 hours shifts while being pregnant, I didnt even get a belly or foot massages. I went to most of my doctors appointments alone, and the only one he came to was when we thought our daughter had Autism (this turned out to be false, my doctor just gave me the test too early before her gestational age).

I came home to a liar, who had substance abuse issues, and during times of withdrawals spent his days belittling me, and constantly switching in between saying things like I hate you, get an abortion, and then I love you, I didnt mean what I said youre my family. My family adored him, and I hated them for it. The only one who knew his kind, was my mom and that was because she struggled with substance abuse issues, the same as he did only hers wasnt one that she could hide, everyone knew because she had ruined her life and her childrens lives by having this addiction. I felt too ashamed to say anything, because after all this was the man that I chose to have a child with, so on days he didnt want to be bothered I left him alone. I had my family constantly calling and checking on me, my inner thoughts said; This isnt so bad, after all. But the worst lie is the lie you tell to yourself, and I was starting to lie more to myself each day. Every day I went to work leaving at 4 am to catch the bus and train to get downtown to make it to work by 5:30 am or my sister would come and take me, on his good days he would drive me but not often. He sometimes didnt even hear me leave, due to him staying out half the night getting wasted.

At work I was respected, and important. I was reliable, efficient, and attentive. My bosses trusted me to do favors for them in their absence because they knew I meant business and I seemed to have my life in order even though I was only 21. Inside, they didnt know that my life was in shambles and all I needed was a hug, an outlet, a source, someone to tell my story to.

I was once a lost child, but look at me now, I am having one and I havent gotten a single clue on what I will do, once she arrives. Hell, I was still waiting for my own arrival. The real me that I used to be where I didnt hold back my feelings and would write poems and sing songs to make myself feel better no longer existed. This new me was passive aggressive and when you are Bi-Polar, that is not the route to live by. For years I had a secret connection with my soul, but as I got older, I lost myself. I grew tired and angry the more the days passed, I didnt want that energy to transfer onto my baby, but somehow, I couldnt help it. I was just fucked up on the inside, but on the outside, I was radiant and glowing.

I was waiting for my man, to get me. I was waiting for him to change. I was waiting for things to get better, and for him to see me like everyone else did. I was important, but I was triggered daily into believing that I was just a girl he got pregnant and didnt get the abortion. Thats how I felt, because that is what he projected onto my spirit. I was already fragile; I couldnt take anymore hurt. Before him, I would have never stayed with someone who was as lost and damaged as I was, I used to purposely date older guys when I was younger, because they taught me how to be treated, and I was never disrespected by any of them. In fact, if ever I felt that someone had wronged me, I would leave as quietly as I came. My parents didnt bring me into this world to be treated like this. I dont know why I stayed, shit Im lying again, I do know why I stayed, and its because I refused to ask anyone in my family if my 38-week pregnant self could stay with them. I had been on my own since the age of 18, and I was willing to suffer in order to maintain that accomplishment. Even if it meant suffering in silence and through long nights of fights with him, and then early mornings of going into work for the both of us.

I woke up early this day. It felt slightly different from the rest, I was off from work and had this burst of energy that came out of nowhere. I dismissed it, I was in mourning, my grandfather had been murdered two weeks before this day and I was still sad. He left me a house, but I never got to sign the deed. I wished I had signed the deed to the house I wanted to leave from being with him. Things with him were not getting any better, things with my mother werent good and my sisters went out of their way to purposely not invite her, but they invited an ex-boyfriend that I didnt even like at the time. I got dressed, and unlike normal baby showers where the woman feels pretty and dresses nice, I ended up wearing jeans and a black shirt (at that time it was only thing I could fit, I didnt even have money for an outfit) that night at the shower he got so drunk that he flirted with one of my sisters good girlfriend, and then when we got home it was raining so he dropped our daughters new clothes in the mud, not on purpose he was just that messed up.