This writing is far more revealing than what I normally feel comfortable with. I'll preface it with a Trigger Warning for all kinds of abuse. If you don't want to read it, feel free to move on, but this is my life, this is my survival story.
These types of questions always kinda get under my skin. I get this sense of unease when I think of answering them so I generally don't because that would require me to be blatantly honest with everyone “out there in the real world” as well as repeating the things that I already tell myself in my head. It would come off as exceptionally negative. This is a post all about ME, Emily.
Who are you and why are you here?
I’m nondescript Emily. I came here because I am sick and tired of being stalked and harassed by my ex family and ex 'partner' on conventional social media. I won’t go into where I am or where I work. I won’t disclose my age or anything descriptive about my child for safety reasons.
Why you ask?
Because my story is abysmally depressing and I am fearful. Yes. You read that right.
Am I happy with who I am?
Nope. I know I'm not. I can try and lather on as much make-up onto my life to make it look pretty, but I would know that it's just a façade. I think that I have made far more bad choices in my life than good ones that have led me to this present day.
I am absolutely covered in flaws. There probably isn't a part of my psyche or personality that isn't scarred in some way or another. I have been told so many times that I don't listen. I say things that are inappropriate without thinking. I apologize too much, I hate my own voice. I don't like being reliant on anyone, I'm terrible at accepting compliments (because I’m always looking for the hidden agenda) and even worse at accepting gifts (This is as a result of growing up where everything was transactional including receiving affection or tokens of appreciation). I tend to want to see the good in people for way too long and have ended up in horribly abusive situations as a result - yes, I count that as a flaw. I have weird taste in music and I don't really have any version of a social life, calling myself "socially awkward" is probably the understatement of the year. It takes a long time for people to understand me, even though I'm exceptionally boring as a person. I tend to spend an inordinate amount of time cleaning and tidying yet I think I fall short in my efforts because of the chaos that seems to reign supreme in my environment.
I'm not a bad person, but I have lost so much of myself in the last ten years, that I don't actually feel I even know myself or what I like anymore. I have way too many hobbies and interests that I don't find time for but I have very few marketable skills.
I undersell myself when I make "art" because I don't believe that my creations are worth anything but the lowest that anyone will pay, I know why this is and it's something that I definitely need to rectify - like NOW.
There are times when I truly do believe that I'm a terrible mother and that my daughter should have been born to a much better one. It's probably the one thing that I get down on myself about more than other issues because I am squarely responsible for her overall well-being and I really don't want her to have a childhood even remotely similar to what mine was, because then I have failed her entirely.
I've wrecked more relationships with friends, family and loved ones than I would like to admit, it stains my soul and is indelible, but those are the pages in my book that I would love to burn. Sorry, no exchanges, no refunds, this is your life and you will lie awake at night and mull over every shitty comment you made for the last 20+ years, every confrontation, every student, colleague and staff member that thought you were a crappy mentor.
I feel like I wasted a large portion of my life on chasing other people's expectations of me, ideals that they could show off to others, yet I still felt like a failure. Am I actually a failure? This is such a difficult question that catches in my throat and I find myself not able to breathe, let alone answer it, but I will try.
When I look back at everything that I have experienced and endured, the fact that I’m still here and still trying, I TRY to give myself some credit for it. I have not had the easiest life. Sure, I know I haven’t had the hardest life either and there are plenty of people worse off than me so I should count myself fortunate in some regard, but failure? Well, I feel like one often. There was a breaking point in my life and I know where it was where I think something inside me gave in and I lost my sense of self, my sense of drive, my fire essentially went out. I clawed myself out of it somehow but I don’t think that I ever fully recovered because since then, there have been more failures than successes and more going backwards than any other conceivable direction. It seems like the blows kept coming and I just wasn’t quick enough to get my dukes up in time.
I’ve still through all of that tried to be a solid, moral, ethical person. A good person in essence.