Was a somebody, now I’m not so sure

Hello

This is the first time I’ve written outside of myown diary. Of course I’ll be writing this anonymously; my story is not an easy or simple one and my problems stem from a complex, unique past.

I was (up until a year ago) working as a singer, producer and songwriter for numerous well known (and lesser known) artists in popular music. I had a good deal of social networking, events, parties and photo shoots to attend. I had a  long list of sponsors, acquaintances, music work to complete and assignments in my field. I was surrounded by a large team of people who would falsely create a reality around me – false pictures, some stories etc – all to create a false image of me. At the time I ignored it.  This team would upload fake pictures of me, give me constant reminders that I had to either “deny” or “go with it” when people asked about them – when people asked about certain situations of my life. I would typically deny  instead of “go with it” response (until recently…). At the time this was normal (that is what they told me) and it had to be done to “fit in” – so I just ignored what I could, went with it and just kept working.

Before I get into that, I know a lot of people experience bad thoughts because of a lack of social life, sex life or other reasons which could have a materialistic base. I did not have this problem. I knew a lot of different people and I had a large number of ex-girlfriends (if you can call it that…) and I attended many social events. My life was fast and full, but yet still so lonely and empty.

My problems started when I was a child at school; I was bullied daily, beaten by other kids and called names (Peter Pan, loser etc.). I had hardly any friends throughout my schooling and I focused on music. When I left for the world of music I was treated like a god; I did have it all (materialistically). The negative thoughts from my youth always stayed with me every day. They made me feel insecure and that is why I chose to listen to my minders (who kept promising me things, telling me to do things).

I never had any love. I woke every day wondering if it would be my last day. I lived like that for more than 6 years. I employed the fakest but most convincing of smiles and I kept going. I had a period where my guard came down – the fake smiles, the confidence all went away and I stopped eating. I became anorexic but I liked the feeling of looking thin. I liked seeing the weight disappear and I liked the idea of playing with death; when I became skinnier, I felt sicker and I felt like dying – but I liked it. It was exciting for me and it felt like I was achieving something for  myself. Eventually my anorexia cycle was broken by some friends of mine who forced me to heal (well, they were friends then but where are they now? Not with me since I quit music…). I was healing from this disgusting disease, but not because I wanted to – I did it because I felt like I ‘should’ for other people’s sake. I know, stupid. I didn’t want to disappoint – even in a sickly state – other people.

At the start of 2013 my management organised a photo shoot for me in Australia. I few in and they had organised a photographer from Europe to conduct the shoots. It was a different photographer to whom I originally expected. She was young, extremely talented and pretty. We spent 3 weeks together and fell in love. I flew to her a few months later to spend a week with her, then at the end of 2013 she flew to me to study and live in a new country. She took a huge risk to be with me. Not for money or fame. Just for me. I know she did this just for me because we established up front that money and the music life was to be no more – I planned to slow it down, take up study of my own and just ‘be’ with her. Live.

All was (almost) perfect. As a result from my past life I had (and still I am dealing with) addiction to prescription medication. I have ADD. These two things mixed are terrible. I would get angry, say things I regret, forget things that I’ve said and the worst bit – I lied about certain parts of my life before. All those fake pictures my team would create, the fake stories, When my girlfriend asked me about it all – I just said they were true. I even gave stories to make them look true. I took real stories from my past and matched them to the new ‘fake’ pictures to make them look real. She believed me and I knew what I did was bad, I lied. It was so bad. I lied because I didn’t want to tell the truth. My team told me “if you lie, it will be better than explaining the truth”. So I lied; in my head I wanted it to go away and I thought it would be easier to “go with it” – lie – and move on instead of saying to her: “hey, look this and this and this is fake – this part is real, but this part is fake. It was something terrible that my team had planned before to create commotion, peak interest – but I want to tell you, stay away. Its bad”. I didn’t say this. The more fake things that came, the bigger the hole became and I kept thinking “if I tell the truth now, everything will look worse compared with if I just keep going with it”. “Go with it”, as they originally said to me. That is what I was doing. And that was killing me.

Eventually my girlfriend discovered the lies and of course I had to tell the truth. I felt relived but at the same time I was so sad. I was happy she knew the truth and finally I could feel free. At the same time I was so sad because now she forced the truth out and I was too late to say it first. I should have said it first. I didn’t. I don’t know why. I had the chance, but I didn’t do it.

Now we talked long about this situation again. I told her I love her and that I’m telling her the truth. I said I lied because I thought it was easier to run away from it by lying. I honestly thought it would be easier to hide from the fact. Maybe because of my ADD (the doctor and info on ADD specifically state that it was a reason I thought lying was a better option) – but I do not want to use a problem with myself (something like ADD) as the blame. I’m sure my ADD did influence the way I handled this situation and the lies – but it doesn’t resolve anything. I still did bad. It can’t change anything. It is MY fault. It is still my fault.

She said she can’t trust me. That is fair. I lied about certain things (all related to past life btw) to her and it is not fair. My medication problems (taking many different pills) and ADD made me hard to live with. But she did, she stayed with me. After the truth came out I decided to visit doctors and stop the medications. I’ve been on the road to recovery from this ever since. Things were getting better, I never mentioned anything from my past again and I DID NOT LIE at all about anything. But like I said – we recently talked about it all again and she said that she every day wakes thinking about it and wondering if she can trust me or what I say about my work and my past. This killed me.

I’ve been trying so hard to be free of this, move on. I’ve tried to answer her questions but she doesn’t accept the fact that I kept going with the lies and she doesn’t accept it when I tell her I DO NOT KNOW who put fake pictures online, who helped create the fake atmosphere. I honestly do not know. I just do not know. Too many people were involved in my life that it could be anyone. There were so many different people around me handling my affairs and organising everything – I just can’t tell her who did what. I wish I could tell her. I can only give her what I know and my feelings. She can’t (or won’t) accept my answers. My answers are the truth, but I can’t blame her for not believing me. She thinks my answers are pathetic. Maybe they are, but at the time – in my mind and based on my past experiences – it was the safer way to avoid any problems. I know it was a stupid way to do it – I know I should’ve told her the truth, but I thought that lying would make things go away. I got stuck in a circle and I couldn’t get out. Looking back now I know how stupid it all was – but at the time, I was stuck. It is pathetic. It is stupid. It is not fair. I know.

Currently we are still talking about it, she said she loves me but can’t trust me. I love her and I tell her the truth. I’ve totally quit all music and all ties with my past life and the people in it. I’ve done this because I want to live with her without having any connection to my past. I’d rather throw it all away (high pay, good networks, well known ‘friends’ etc.) and be with her.

I know that the start of this post had some structure and now it is far more unstructured and there is a lot of back-and-forth, but I can’t help it. If I leave her I will die – I will not be able to survive. After all my successes, all the people I’ve met – she is perfect and the only one I love. I’ve been honest with her since she brought it up with me and I’ve tried to show her as much love as possible.

Note: I never lied about how I felt about her when I was with her, I never lied about things not related to past stories/pictures. Everything else was honest, just a specific portion was a circle of lies.

I’m not blaming anyone because I think I should have been stronger and told her the truth about this section of life. I feel terrible and I can’t handle it. It is all my fault, as usual; I deserve on my past problems. I deserve on my problems. I’m not a good person – no matter what I do – I will always be a loser and this is something that I now realise. I had the best girlfriend in the world – my actual dream girl – just like in the movies; we have everything in common (literally everything), we have the same thoughts constantly, eat the same foods, same movies, music, opinions, dreams and inspirations – she is literally a clone of myself, yet a perfect version and I’m the broken one.

I fucked it up. This is not like in the movies where there is a happy ending…

When I was younger I always had the thought in my head that I’d die lonely or broken. I used to think that these negative thoughts stemmed from constant years of abuse problems through school and then working in an industry full of lies, misdirection and false friends. I thought that one day (like in the movies) I would finally be happy. I tried to convince myself that I would deserve this….but now I realise I do not deserve this happy ending. I was a broken kid who grew up into an even more broken performer. Simple.

Now I can’t mention anything from my past – not a single thing – without her thinking it could be a lie. That is my fault. And my problem. And I deserve to die with it. She deserves to be happy and safe. I’m providing her with everything I possibly can – I’m completely honest with her, trying to explain everything I can – but words fail me. I do not know what to do. I want everything to go back to normal and live happily but I also want to die.

She doesn’t want to hear it (about dying) so I thought I’d write it here. It’s something I wanted to do when I was younger, before I met her, I never wanted to live. She came into my life and made me feel complete. I know it sounds like a lame story book but it is true. But again I find myself wanting to die – and this time it is my fault. And because it is my fault, I do deserve it. Maybe in death I can finally be happy again. Maybe it is selfish to want to die, but my alternative is to live and every day feel my heart die slowly…what about my family? I would rather die now than pretend to be happy for them. They wouldn’t want me to pretend to be happy anyway…they want the real, happy me. They deserve that. They do not deserve me as I am.

I’m conflicted. I want love but at the same time I do not feel like I deserve it. I really do not need to consume any more oxygen than I already do.

I’m starting to ramble now, so I’ll leave it as that. This is my story. Terribly unique in the worst possible way. This is not the typical story and I’ve not been able to tell it since now. The only reason I’m even writing this here is…….well, I don’t actually know. I have no idea.  I do NOT want any sympathy at all. It is not my place.

I think my time is really finish, the stage lights are off and the audience has now gone home. Thanks for listening.