If there is a hole in your favorite knit sweater, you will patch it. If there is a hole in the ground, you will shovel dirt into it. If there is a hole, you will fill it, but what if the hole is in your heart? What if the hole is in your soul? Those were definitely the places where my holes were.

When I was younger my brother abused me. I didn’t realize it was abuse at the time. He would choke me, pull me by the hair, hit me, kick me, and more. Not all of the abuse was physical though. It was verbal and mental, too. He would make me look for things that he had all along. He made me feel ugly and fat. He would tell me that on his list of b****es I was second only to my mom. He would tell me that at my mom’s funeral I would have to tell people that he hadn’t shown up because he had hated her all of his life.

You may pity my mom for his words that strike like a snake, but my mom was no better. She was controlling in situation yet could not control her own emotions. She would scream at us. I think she used to slap and hit us. I can’t remember. I can’t remember a lot from ages six to eleven. It would make since that she hit us as that would explain why my brother hated my mom so much and why I still flinch when she’s mad.

For a while she was mad all the time. She got angry at my older brother and my father. When my mom and my brother would fight I would hide because I was scared he would take out his anger at me. When my mom and my dad fought I was sad and would cry because I thought I had done something wrong. They would yell and scream and throw things at each other. I would wind up a music box and focus on the pretty melodies it chimed. When the music stopped playing they were usually done fighting.

I had holes. My holes were not visible like ones in Swiss cheese, unless you count the bruises on my body. My holes were on the inside. They were in my heart and soul. The ones in my heart were inflicted from my mother and brother; people who I wanted to love and trust, would try to love and trust, but would show me that I could not love or trust them as much as I wanted to. The holes increased and got deeper when my dad left my mom. I wanted him to come back and take me with him. After a month or so he came back. He came back to say, not to rescue me.

The holes in my soul where caused by the fact that I thought I was fat and ugly. I hated my blue eyes being hidden under glasses, I hated my frizzy, blonde hair, and the freckles all over my pale skin. When I looked in the mirror I saw a fat girl trying to be thin. The girl in the mirror had such bulging thighs. I did not see that I was truly beautiful and thin. I see it now though I do admit these days I have contacts.

It was in those days that I felt fat and ugly, was abused, and parents fought that I was anorexic and depressed. I would starve myself and allow no more than 500 calories to my consumption. I felt dizzy but stronger that I could say no to food. It was fun to get on the scale and see that I had lost weight. Losing weight was the only fun thing to do. I could not fix myself on the inside so I tried doing so on the outside.

My depression led to severe depression, and my severe depression led to feeling of suicide. I don’t remember how many times I attempted suicide or in how many ways. As already stated I can’t remember much of my childhood. I do remember at least four times I tried and failed.

Every day I am glad that I failed. My brother stopped abusing me after I started standing up, physically fighting back, and cussing him out. My parents got back together and don’t fight anymore. I have defeated my anorexia and depression. I have an amazing group of friends, a bright future, and the best boyfriend. The abuse still has effects such as it keeps me from letting people hug or touch me with the exceptions of my dad, my best friend, and my boyfriend.

So if there is a hole in your sweater, patch it. If there is a hole in the ground fill it with dirt, but if there’s a hole in your heart or your soul be careful. Don’t fill it with dirt. Try patching it with time and love.