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Unpacking My Shit: This is not a self help book
Unpacking My Shit: This is not a self help book
Unpacking My Shit: This is not a self help book
Ebook49 pages49 minutes

Unpacking My Shit: This is not a self help book

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This book is my third book under my pen name and it's the one most dear to me. This piece deals with experiences that has forever shaped me into the woman I am today. I candidly speak about dealing with abuse as a child, whether that was physical, emotional, verbal and even sexual abuse.
I hope this book allows you to look in the mirror and be strong enough to face your demons, as writing it did for me.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 18, 2022
ISBN9781685833848
Unpacking My Shit: This is not a self help book

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    Book preview

    Unpacking My Shit - V.C. Alexander

    It's My Truth, Not yours!

    You will probably get a lot of disclaimers throughout this book. That is because, although this is my truth, not everyone will agree with the accounts of this book. Now my truth may not be pleasing to you, but it is what will set me free, and since my freedom is what I am ultimately seeking, it really doesn't matter what anyone thinks.

    I was born  on the island of St.Martin which is in the French Caribbean. Some of you may have vacationed there, yes I know. Yes, it is beautiful and somewhere you should probably visit in your lifetime. Side note, you should probably write that down, to visit that is. My mother later moved back to Dominica, the island of her birth to raise me as a single mother. I was the first child to my mother and if I am not mistaken, I do believe I was the 4th child to the man that was the second half of the child breeding process. Notice I did not call him my father. That's a chapter we will get to later.

    By all accounts, my childhood was not fun. There are a few happy memories that I can recall at the top of my head. Seriously, I would have to think long and hard about a happy childhood memory. They tend to surface when I've had a few puffs. That is not to say there weren't times I had fun with friends, that is not what I am saying. Like most kids I knew growing up, I can recall them speaking of fun times with their families, their siblings for instance. That was not the case for me. I was the first of six children and never in my lifetime, even to this day did I have a bond with my siblings.

    The idea of speaking to your siblings daily, calling them with issues you may be experiencing or just wanting to know how their day was is, is a total foreign concept to me. Why didn't I call them you may ask? Well I'm not sure if I have the answer for that just yet. I do know that the feeling of not belonging has been one that has been a part of my life for as far back as I can remember. Thinking I am in this world all alone was a more normal thought process for me as a child. Growing up in the Caribbean, at least in my experiences, that didn't seem to be a primary focus. The culture was a little different back there. So don't think that I just had a horrible parent growing up. I'm sure she did the best she could, with what she had and what she knew.

    That however, did not change the experiences for me, and that unfortunately has shaped me into quite the fucked up person you see every day, smiling with the perfect smile. Meanwhile, I have cried more times than I care to admit. I've entertained thoughts of suicide more than ten people combined, on their worst days. But see, unless I would have written that just now, not a single person would have known. We (women) have been told so many times to be strong, or we have felt the need to be, yet gentle, that we forget it's ok to be vulnerable and ask for help. I know I won't, because the times I have expressed my suicidal thoughts to people then I was told I was crazy, or weak. All those weaknesses were used against meat one time or another, so what happens then?  It is considered taboo to say I want to die. It is frowned upon to say I don't want to do this anymore. I kept my shit in my suitcase, under lock and key and forgot the combination. That by the way, is not the way to deal with things, but it was all I knew. Keeping my bad thoughts to myself made me feel like no one would judge me, no one would think I was crazy, or a nut job, or even weak. I would go on with my day, smiling and helping everyone else

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