The real me.
I make people believe that I’m a good person. Upbeat, positive, Compassionate, happy, kind, loving, appreciative, patient, easy going, and gentle but that isn’t the real me. In fact i just want them to think that because when you die it doesn’t matter what you really were only what they all THOUGHT you were.
They think I’m all those things because thats the person i project. Whats really in my heart doesnt matter and they dont care so long as they BELIEVE what i show them. So i live a lie. I do good things for others. Im helpful and compassionate to everyone, always. But truely i hate it. I want to be someone different but thats just fantasy. If my parents had been rich maybe i would have had a better life. But i was born into a life of poverty, alcohol, drugs, and violence so thats the life im stuck with. I make people believe im ok with it and that your past doesnt define who you are today but even as i say it to others i dont believe that myself. In fact the only thing im good at in this world is deceiving people. Huh… theyre just so easy to fool. I tell people who are down to keep looking to the future that this is just temporary and the only way they can change their world is to choose better but its a load of shit. I dont believe what i tell people but it makes them feel better and they walk away thinking im a happy positive person who helped them so much. Im told regularly “you always know just what to say” or “youre the happiest person i know” and the best one “i want my life to be like yours”. If they only knew i only say what they need to hear so that no one ever hears what is really in my heart. Im sad and angry and i hate people! I just want to wander off into the woods and never be seen again but they will never know that, not that anyone would really care. Therapists think im perfectly healthy and happy the same as everyone else. Idiots. I tell everyone what they want to hear so they will leave me alone. Honestly i look forward to death but i want to make sure they still believe im that person i have worked so hard to create. So, suicide is out because that would ruin the image ive worked so hard to protect. Im not smart or funny or happy but they think i am. Ive always been on the outside of normal. Just regular enough to be worthless and just dumb enough to be the outcast. I dont fit with the mental people because im “smart” and i dont fit with the normal people because im just damged enough to let my guard down and get shunned. Ive always been the one people will accuse, particularly of stealing but i never do. Doesnt stop them from thinking i do, doesnt stop them from accusing me. Now my boss thinks im cheating him, im not but that doesn’t make a difference because again the only thing that matters is what he thinks. I make people like me then falter and let my guard down as if they might actually care. They never care, never have and never will. Forty years of misery have only taught me how to trick people into thinking im better than I am. I wish i could share how i really feel with someone… anyone. When you reach out the first thing people say is “get help” “therapy helps i promise” or “get to the doctor.” Yeah i tried all that. Drs solution is meds. Therapists solution is meds and “counseling” *sigh* they are paid to pretend they care but essentially if i overdosed and died in the gutter it wouldnt affect their lives in the slightest. And guess what no insurance means outrageous medical bills which only makes my life worse. But hey they gotta make their money to continue to live the privileged life. I tried therapy for over a year. Their solution is always the same. “Take these pills” “think of your family” “convince yourself you’re happy” blah blah blah FAIL! None of that fixes my broken brain. Ive been damaged goods since the day i was born. The other kids knew it when i was young but im only recently figuring out that im nothing special to any one for any real reason. I have had three people in my life over all these years that i truely believed loved me for the real me. My Daddy, he died when i was 12 so he still thought i was perfect. My grandma, she died when i was 18 so she only got to see a little bit of my crappy real me. And my husband who now hates me. That one is a long long story but i guess since im the only one who knows then im the only one who will ever understand. Our relationship was near perfect until i got a call out of the blue from my ex husband. He said my 14yo son wanted to meet me and i thought that i had finally gotten my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Within a year i found out i was wrong. He would sneak into my room while I slept. Which in itself seems innocent enough but he would unzip my pants and touch me sexually. I thought i was going crazy because he was so sneaky and i never caught him, would just wake up with my pants unzipped but still buttoned or id hear noises at night and wasnt sure what it was. I thought i had a yeast infection or something because every time i woke up my panties were crusty and moist. He truely had me believing i had lost my mind. I would go days without sleep and when i finally did sleep i was basically comatose. I eventually did catch him and thats where everything for me was lost. I told him if he touched me again i would take immediate action. The second time i caught him we went straight to the crisis center. They sent him home with me again even after i told them he wasnt safe because i was running on months with no sleep and very angry with him, but they didnt believe he was doing anything. They told him that he hadnt done anything wrong and sent him home with me. I told him that he would conform and keep his hands to himself or the next time i would take it to the police. And i did. Big mistake. He was arrested and charged with “attempted sexual battery” and “attempted rape”. I was treated like a criminal in court. My family turned their backs on me because “how could you do that to your own child?” He served a few months in a “boys ranch” that i paid for and then a year as a registered sex offender. The state sued me for child support and won. When we went to court to convict him i was alone. My husband did not want to stand with me, i guess because he was ashamed of me too, just like everyone else. Fast forward four years and my son is free with no record because he was a minor and im a shell. I lost my family, my job, my home, and every shred of dignity i ever had. Now i live in fear. I dont sleep and i cant bring myself to have an intimate relationship with my husband who is only still here because i support him. Mentally im destroyed, emotionally im dead, and physically … i dont know what i am physically… i actually wish i didnt have a body at all. End of the day, im completly ruined and hes just living the good life back with his daddy. Hes now 19 and i dream of putting a bullet in him. I moved far away to deny myself that privilege. I have ptsd and no one has ever believed me, i dont even think my husband does to be honest. I finally thought i might have a shot at being mildly normal with a comfortable life. After three years at a job that i truely love, my boss, in not so many words, accused me of stealing from him today. Again i can see it all slipping away and i honestly dont have it in me to start over again. Ive worked very hard to rebuild myself and have some semblance of a life and now it all hangs in the balance. I dont know how to fix it or even if i want to. I cry constantly and no one knows. No one cares that im rotting from the inside out because i dont let them close enough to see. Why should i? Theyll only do me like everyone else. Even when they say they believe me it will get around to me eventually that theyve talked crap just like everyone else. “She had to have touched him”, “she did something to that kid” “how do you not know someones touching you?” Or my favorite “she raped him and didnt want to get into trouble herself”. And then theres “she was a drug addict for years she probably just got high again and had no idea what was real”. Sometimes i think i should get high again… like now. Id feel so much better if i could just shut the world off with a little dope. But “im too strong for that” *ha!* i dont want to be strong anymore. I want to overdose and end it all. Im tired and worn down and i cant seem to maintain. I burst into tears about 15 times today at work. I just cant take it all any more. My husband doesnt help in the house and he stopped listening almost 3 years ago. So when i have a really bad flashback or nightmare i just tuck it away. No one really cares to hear it. That isnt just my “warped perception” like they say in therapy, its the truth. I get calls every day constantly from people who want something from me. “Fix my phone” “listen to my problems” “give me advice” “comfort me” but no hears me. Sometimes i test the waters with certain people just to see if they care. Ill start to trickle a small bit of my life to friends or family but get cut short only to return to their woes. *shrugs* its ok though because ive never been very good at sharing so i guess i brought it on myself… along with everything else in my world. So here i sit, crying, alone, and miserable again. I dont think ill ever have a single day where i dont feel lost and defeated. Everyone said “give it time youll feel better” but i dont. It hasnt gotten better, only worse. The more i tuck away the more i loose of myself. Now there isnt much left but sadness. My one joy is work and i may loose that too because no amount of evidence will change people’s opinion once their minds are made up. If i loose my job i might finally find the conviction to end it all myself. I dont have anything left to give this world and i think maybe everyone will be better off if i werent here. People always say *including me* that your important to somebody but really i dont offer this world anything that anyone else couldnt do. There isnt any more room to tuck it all away and it spills out randomly. I run to the bathroom and hide until i can get it under control. And i must be pretty good at hiding it all because no one ever notices any way. I dont want the condescending remarks. “It will all be ok” “”im here if you need me” “it will get better” All just a bunch of crap. The same thing i tell the hundreds of strangers that feel the need to tell me their issues daily. None of it is true and none of it works. I dont understand why we pacify each other. It really just undermines our intelligence but we’re conditioned to accept it as kindness and move on. “Hey how are you?” “Im good” we respond without another thought even though our world is crumbling. If i could give one piece of advice to any sexual assault victim it would be two bullets. One for him and one for you. The future will tear you apart more than anything you could ever imagine. I live a miserable life full of hyper awareness, night terrors, flashbacks, shame, guilt, hatred, and the deepest sadness i have ever experienced. I wish he would have killed me or even better i wish i had ened it for both of us. I have released a monster who has no regret except for the fact that he got caught *his words not mine.* There is no justice in this world and if you think that youll find it with the leagal system, youre sadly mistaken. The real me says if it ever happens to you, kill him before you go to the police if you can, youll only regret the missed opportunity when they call you a whore and rake you across the coals. Then when you watch him with his family happy and care free it will eat you alive from the inside out. While you watch him move on with his life youll watch your life crumble around you one piece at a time. You may be able to carry the load for awhile but eventually youll pray for death too. The real me says its all fake and you cant count on anyone to remove the monster but you. The real me says good bye.
2 comments
Darn, I hate those therapists too. Half the time they make you want to die with all those “find something to do” “talk to people” “take these pills and don’t think too much”.
Most times they just make me feel worse.