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There are only people.

Every category that you could classify someone under has different spectrums within it. This is why it becomes so difficult to assign identities to groups. 

It is common for younger generations to throw hate toward elder generations, simply because the majority of the “boomer” population have similar views and prejudgements about the younger generations. But there is still a reason why it is also sort of a… trope, if you will, that elders are wise. But it has nothing to do with the physical age of their body.

Have you ever heard of someone referred to as an “old soul?” It’s usually used to describe young people who have a distinct wisdom in their ways. Like my son, for example. The things that he said and the ways that his beautiful mind worked, everyone could tell that he wasn’t a child on the inside. And sadly, he died before his time, but had he lived, he would have aged into what people may refer to as a “wiseman.”

When he learned of his diagnosis, he handled it with more grace and more stability than anyone I have ever known. He didn’t cry. Occasionally, he would have spells of rage, but those were only brought on by the steroid that they used to keep the swelling down in his head. Once his body was used to the medications, he became just this old little young little man with wisdom and serenity that I wish more than anything I could be. He was and still is an inspiration to anyone who hears the stories we tell about him. 

We never saw him show any indication that he was sad. He stayed strong, and he fought to survive with every last ounce of strength he had left until his brain literally could not function to keep him alive anymore. Human bodies are so fragile and pathetic. But his soul was far from. Even in the days and weeks and months leading up to his death, despite the suffering pain of being immobilized and fed through a tube, he continued to indicate that he wanted to continue the fight. I fought against doctors and ethic boards and family members and even myself sometimes, but I never gave up because he never did. 

Even when he could no longer use words, he found ways to communicate with me. I would ask him if he was ready to go, and he wouldn’t answer. But when I asked if he wanted to keep fighting, he would squeeze my hand and attempt to vocalize, even if it was a grunt. So, even though I was chastised for “prolonging his suffering,” and even though sometimes I catch myself wondering if I did the right thing, I always come back to the fact that I only did what he wanted. And I knew him well enough to know that that’s what he wanted. I fought for him, and Nebraska’s medical staff did not. The medical staff who are fucking around with Covid-19 like it’s just some sort of spoken curse than you can avoid by covering your eyes and ears and humming. But it isn’t. And they know it isn’t. And they knew that there were different things that we could have tried that would have helped buy him more time. But they refused those things. And whether it was over money or because they simply thought they knew what was best for him when what was really best was simply to respect his wishes, the point is, they were wrong. Money isn’t worth a human life. And taking away someone’s right to try to spend as much time alive as possible, even if that time is painful, is the same as murder. 

Again, I say that if you think you can force anyone to die because of what you think is right, then you absolutely must not stop those who are suffering from choosing when they are ready to stop it. The right thing to do in life or death situations is obey the choice of the person whose life is at stake. It is their right to decide. Do not treat others the way you want to be treated. Treat them how they want to be treated. And rest assured that you have done the right thing.

When I began this entry, I had originally come to talk about identity and what it means to be unique and why labels are a double-edged blade. But since it has seemed to digress into a different direction, I will instead send this one off with a new title and come back again later to revisit my initial topic. 

At the bottom of it all, I want to say that you can be pro-life without not being pro-choice. Sometimes pro-life is pro-choice. And if you’re thinking about ending your life, please at least do the following:

-Give the decision some very deep and scrutinous thought before you really make your move.

-Do not leave any loose threads. Get everything squared up and away so that you aren’t leaving anyone with the burden of your unfinished business. 

-Write an essay, record a video, do a podcast. Whatever medium you choose is fine, but you need to explain your reasoning. Don’t leave anyone wondering why you chose to do it, and don’t leave anyone with the burden of thinking that it was their fault. Express your feelings as transparently as possible. Acknowledge the pain that you will likely cause, but do not discount your own feelings either. 

It is my personal belief that physical death is not game over. The things that make death a terrifying and painful ordeal are the ambiguity of the unknown and the time spent waiting to find out. We will all get there eventually. So all we can do is accept it and look forward to it. The unknown doesn’t have to be scary. It can be exciting and exhilarating. It’s the ability to let go and try something new. All you need is the trust that when you leave your body, you will not lose your consciousness. That consciousness is what it means to exist. And while science may tell you that, to some degree, your body dictates your consciousness, consider the following:

Memories come and go. Sometimes, something that you thought you had completely forgotten returns very suddenly, and then you can’t possibly imagine how you could have forgotten it. Think of our brains like hard drives. There is only so much space for information storage. So what do we do when our computers can no longer hold the information? We upload it to the “cloud.” It can still be accessed from anywhere in time and space as long as you have the passcode. Files can be shuffled around and traded off to save space and are only dowloaded again when they are needed. Maybe each time you recall a long-lost memory, you also send an unnecessary one back to the cloud until it becomes necessary again. And maybe once your hard drive stops working, you pack up the remaining files and escape to the cloud to keep them safe.
Perhaps you meet up with some of the consciousnesses that you enjoyed time with, or maybe you find out that there are only maybe a handful of consciousnesses and you all channel yourselves into life as we know it, for fun, sort of like a video game.

Or maybe you find out that it’s just you. And all of existence was just a thing you made to occupy yourself.

You won’t know until you get there. But while you’re here, make the most of it. And when it’s time to go, embark on the next stage of your journey with serenity and grace. Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best. And expect that it will meet somewhere in between.

Featured

A Symple Thot

If you ever feel like your identity is being attacked by someone, try to remember this:
Most people try to avoid conflict at all cost, because conflict causes anxiety. So it is almost certain that if someone makes you feel invalid, it’s because they are feeling the exact same way. If you hate feeling like that, don’t make someone else feel that way.
Say how you feel if you must, but don’t be mean. Feelings are feelings. Everyone’s feelings are unique. It’s part of who they are. Focus less on the things that make them different, and redirect your attention to the things that unite you.
Everyone is a hypocrite at some point or other. But we are constantly growing and changing. Every moment is a new experience, and a chance to learn and grow. By the time you read this message, the person who wrote it will be long gone. But it’s okay. Because I am constantly being replaced with newer, more updated versions of myself.
It’s called being human. People can change. And they do. Some just take longer than others. So don’t stop taking chances on people. It’s better to have friends than enemies. One day they will wake up and feel completely removed from the person they were when you knew them last.
Wouldn’t you want another chance to disprove the idea that you’re a garbage person? Everyone does. So just relax. We’re in this together, for better or worse.

One more.

1. You don’t get to call me paranoid when you just up and bailed on me one day with zero discussion and refuse to talk to me about anything, plus when you straight up lie to me, tell me there’s no one else, and then start fucking around with multiple someone elses.

2. You don’t get to spy on my password protected extremely personal shit and then get pissed at me for checking out the shit you post publicly and then threaten to slap ME with a restraining order.

3. I’m getting “help” because it’s court ordered, not because I need it. Honestly, since I went off meds and I don’t have you to deal with, that’s been a gigantic fucking help. I feel better now than you EVER made me feel. And even more honestly, you need plenty more help, and you’re making it obvious to everyone by trash talking and belittling me for the issues I had that you only made worse.

4. How dare you get pissed at me for having suicidal thoughts, when you’re perfectly capable of the selfishness that it takes to purposely remove yourself completely from someone’s life and leave a giant gaping hole in it? I’m still here. I’ve survived. And if you hadn’t bailed on me, I’d still fucking be here trying to fix your fucked up ass. Suicidal thoughts are just thoughts. A lot of people have them, especially after losing a child. I went through several periods where I overcame them and tried to pick my life back up, but obviously, shit keeps raining down on me every time I get back up. And maybe if you’d actually been there for me when things got extremely shitty, instead of chatting up whores online and then moving it to physical shit, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten to the point that I did. You emotionally abandoned me when I needed your love and support more than ever.

5. You don’t get to fuck around when you said you supported my decision of being ace. If you didn’t support it, all you had to do was talk to me. I know that you have needs, and I believe that I even said that to you and asked you to talk to me if you ever felt like you were having trouble. You didn’t. So how fucking dare you?

6. This is all your fault. You did this. You treated me like shit when I needed you more than ever. You never asked me to stop. In fact, you liked it because it kept me out of your way. You liked me better when I took medicine. So the pills became my friend when you weren’t.

7. You’ve made it clear that you don’t give a shit about Ivy. You don’t care enough about she wants and needs to even *try* to fix things, and you’re too much of a chicken shit to even TALK to me without threatening me, so this means that I can’t share with you the things she does and makes, which you SHOULD be proud of. But you’ve shown that you only care about yourself, so why would you give a shit about your daughter and what she can do and the person she’s becoming? You don’t. And it shows. You can’t even be a man enough to fucking come to her BIRTHDAY PARTY which would mean more to her than whatever bullshit you BOUGHT her. She cannot he bought. She is a human child. And if you really loved her, you would know that.

Bon Voyage.

Before I kill my account, I have one last thing to say.

Thank you.

All of you. The ones who were kinder than I deserved and the ones who treated me like complete shit. Thank you. I wouldn’t be who I am today without any of you, and I wouldn’t have learned the lessons I needed to learn.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t appreciate being treated like fucking scum for simply having issues, mostly related to people consistently treating me like shit- more specifically the folks that treated me like shit for having problems due to being treated like shit and then dealt with it by doing the exact same things that gave me the complexes in the first goddamn place… you’re still shitty people and you should legitimately get help before you end up extremely depressed and alone…

But if it hadn’t been for you, I would never have learned to respect myself and stop taking bullshit. So, even though you fucked me up beyond any hope of complete repair, thank you for teaching me what shit to look out for sooner so that I can nip that shit in the bud in the future.

I hate goodbyes. It sickens me the amount of people that bail when the going gets tough. It’s a selfish, fuckboy behavior. So I’m not the type of person who nips people out forever. I’ll always welcome you back with open arms if you get help and quit being a slime ball. It’s in your hands. I’ve always been very forgiving, but the part of me that was overly trusting is dead now. Forever.

She’s not coming back. So. If you ever decide you wanna catch up again, make sure you’re a different person when you get back. I’m a different person than I was four months ago, and soon, I’ll be an even different person than the me who is currently writing this. That’s the beauty of life. Every day is another chance to improve and be better, which is something I never stop trying to become. And I hope that those of you who were shitty to me will also change for the better so that someday, we can be friends again.

But for now, this is goodbye.

I’m no longer interested in trying to write about what happened and get the truth out there, because I’ve come to understand that no one gives a flying fuck about me or hearing the truth, so that’s my burden to bear, and the only people who need to hear it are my lawyers.

In order to be better and get what I need out of life, I have to abandon any hope of support from “friends.” It’s just not in the cards for me. So I’m taking my leave from the Internet, and if we’re meant to meet again, we will. However.

Take care, folks.

Sunny, out.

There’s no point.

I don’t say anything smart, and the words that come out of my brain are meaningless to anyone. This blog is a waste of data.

I’m probably going to kill it soon. I might kill my website, too, if I can get any of my money back from the payment I made for the year.

I don’t contribute anything worth while to the world. So I can at least quit stacking more garbage on top of the other garbage.

X

Please don’t kick me to the curb, I beg you.

I have no one. I hope you’re happy. You take off and leave me, take all my friends with you, and turn everyone against me. My family sides with you, now Matt’s siding with you.

I’m completely fucking alone. Thanks for spreading viscous rumors about me and making everyone think I’m just some fucking batshit crazy person.

Everything you ever wanted is right at your fingertips. All you’re waiting for is me in a body bag, right?

I loved and trusted you. And this is what you do to me. I was loyal. And this is where my loyalty got me.

Why can’t you just wake up and be a human being and come fix this mess you made before it’s too late? I can’t keep going on like this. With no one… completely fucking alone… everyone hates me because of you!!! No one gives a single shit about me. So what’s the point???

Does this really make you happy??? Because if it does, you can’t even be human. Just pure fucking evil.

Shame me for having problems with self-worth and self esteem. Do all the exact things that press those buttons. See how many buttons it takes to get to the suicide center of self-loathing. And *I’m* the one with the “problem” who’s being forced to get “help.”

You’re pure evil. And I can’t stop loving you, even knowing this fact. I just want you to get help. Please get help. Please. Please stop pushing my buttons. Please stop lying to everyone about me. Tell my friends the truth so that they’ll unblock me and stop playing your fucked up games because I need their support a hell of a lot more than you do, obviously.

UPDATES!!! After this post, he sent me THIS email:

After I said he wants me in a body bag. He send me a push-you-over the edge email incriminating himself for snooping on my shit, because it’s the only way he’d even KNOW if I was “snooping his shit,” which I wouldn’t even call it snooping if it’s fucking public. Dopey-ass mf.

So here we have it. Proof he’s trying to push me to suicide, and proof he’s been snooping my journals and things JUST LIKE I SAID. Oh, and the “harassment” of which he speaks is me sending him a message on my birthday just to tell him how I feel, saying that that’s all I wanted for my birthday, and that I’d leave him alone for good after that.

So yeah. Keep taking his side. You’ll just be an accessory to his shitty behavior. Or you could come back to me, be forgiven, never speak of your betrayal again, and actually support the friend who always put her issues on the back burner to help you with yours.

My dearest Ben,

I was really hoping that you would find it in your heart to see me one more time, but I understand. It was an unreasonable request, and I shouldn’t have even put you in that position. I just wanted to write you one last time, though. Consider it my birthday wish. And after I’m done, as promised, I will truly leave you alone for good and never bother you ever again, if that is really what you desire.

Now where to even begin…?

Well, I suppose that I can begin by apologizing for birthdays past and being such a jerk. Putting it lightly, of course. I don’t know what the hell has been wrong with me my whole life. I’m just… not a good person. But it’s not for lack of trying, I hope you believe me… My entire life has just been a buildup of guilt. I can never forgive myself for any of the pain I’ve caused over time, to anyone, no matter how small not a big deal. It’s just something i can’t escape, but it at least keeps me trying to be better every day. It’s an uphill battle, though.

No matter how hard I try, I always fail and let everyone down. I let you down.

I let myself down.

I hate the things you did to me, but I cannot seem to force myself to hate *you*. And for that, I end up hating myself, I guess. Or maybe it’s because I hate myself that I can’t respect myself enough to recover from it and just move past you. Or maybe it’s simply that I promised I would never give up on you, and when I make promises, real promises, I cling to them. And now I have no direction, because you only want me gone.

Ew, this is starting to sounds like a guilt festival. Not my intention. Let me see…

I don’t know what to say that hasn’t already been said. Well, I guess I can never really overstate my love for you. So I’ll say it again. I love you. And I really, really miss you. Every day is harder and harder, and the longer things drag out, the emptier I feel inside. I don’t know what else to do anymore.

I’m miserable without you.

I have no passion. No motivation. No muse. I just wake up each day, go through the motions, and then go to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I’ve tried filling the void with various things like music and makeup and clothes, but in the end, nothing can ever replace your presence in my life. It’s all just pointless bullshit.

You made me happy. Even when you were at your worst, I was still happier with you around than I’ve ever been since you’ve been gone. I can’t seem to find it within myself to give up on you. I can’t visualize myself with anyone else ever again. No one could make me smile like you did. It makes me nauseous to try to envision myself next to anyone else. I can’t live this way.

I wish that you would at least talk to me. I can’t handle the ghosting. It hurts me so much. It’s not fair. It’s just another form of control, and I don’t want to be controlled anymore.

I wish things were different.

I wish things *could* be different.

I wish you’d let me forgive you for everything if only you’d forgive me too… I wish we could start over and try again. From scratch. Like we were new. Anything….

Because without you… My life feels dull and worthless. You made me feel alive. You made me feel like I had a purpose. You gave me something to look forward to every day. You made me want to wake up each morning.

Now I go to sleep at night and just pray that I don’t wake up, but I always do. And it’s disappointing. Which makes it harder to get out of bed.

Ben… there’s no one else for me in the world. And I’m no good alone. I’m just a wandering dumbass with no purpose.

You and our family… it’s all that’s kept me going all this time. I can’t make it without you. It doesn’t matter who’s around, without you I just feel completely alone. And I’ll always feel this way. You were my other half. We completed each other. Without you, I’m just a fragment.

I love you so much more than you could ever imagine. I don’t think I did a good enough job explaining how much. Because it’s hard… It’s not something that I can really put into words. “I’d do anything for you,” is the closest thing I can come up with that even begins to explain. It’s not enough, but neither am I. I’m sorry. I tried to be enough.

I tried to be whatever you wanted or needed. Because I don’t know who I am. I’m just someone who loves you. That’s my entire identity.

So… without you, I’m null. Void. Blank. Worthless.

I wish it wasn’t true, but it just is. I’m sorry.

Everything is all wrong now… I just don’t feel right. And I hate this feeling. I can’t get it out of me. Nothing helps. You’re not replaceable.

Before you came into my life, I had Faron. But now he’s gone, and you’re gone and Ivy’s gone and all of my friends are gone, Ben…

I have no one.

Please don’t leave me this way.

I beg you. And I’m sorry to beg. I don’t want to, but this is the last time I’m going to. Please come back to me. Please. I only have love for you.

We can take it slow. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Please just don’t throw me away like I’m trash. We can work it out. I know we can. We are strong. I think we’re stronger together than apart. And for sure, Ivy will be stronger with her family behind her.

I will be stronger.

I’ll make you stronger.

And we’ll all get better together.

Please. Consider it. This is all I ask. My one wish. Pretty, pretty please.

Part 12

In which his friends and he, himself tried to warn me.

Once, a girl named China said to me, “honestly, it’s easier when they die.” It must have been about a decade ago, back when I was still so new to things… At the time, I couldn’t understand this logic. It baffled and confused me, and I thought, secretly, this girl must be a sociopath or something like that. But this was before I had experienced such extreme pain from death and such complete and utter betrayal to the point of illness.

Looking back on what she said now, I am ashamed to admit that she was right. No one means to die. Usually. Certainly, Steph and Faron didn’t. They didn’t do it to spite us, and it wasn’t a choice they made. It couldn’t be helped.

But Ben meant and means every action. He made choices and knew what he was doing when he made them. It hurts more to know that someone would knowingly and willingly deprive you of their presence in your life, purely out of selfishness.

So much of the time I spent over the past year and a half or so, I spent allowing myself to be subjected to pain and abuse, hoping that if I just kept myself in check and played my cards right, I could keep our family together and get Ben to see the errors in his ways and hit bottom all on his own so that we could get back up together and move forward.

But I should have known better. Is it wrong that I didn’t want to give up on the person I loved…? His friends tried to warn me that he was dangerous the last time he hurt me. After he wrote a letter encouraging suicide, his best friend was confounded and said that he didn’t even know if he could call him a friend anymore. Another friend warned me that he was an emotional sociopath and always had been.

In a letter he wrote me earlier this year, Ben himself tried to warn me, proclaiming himself a narcissist and telling me that he would just keep doing the same things to me over and over again if I stayed with him. But I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe that he could change. That he would get better, that he wouldn’t always be this way.

But since he’s left, he’s proven himself to be much worse than I could have imagined. In addition to turning all of my friends and parts of my family against me and using the neighbors to help try to gaslight me, he has also attempted to chip away at my self esteem more and more.

Ben encouraged the use of the cold pills. Once he found that they kept me numb and quiet, he thought that meant I was also stupid, and that because I was numb and quiet, he could get away with anything and everything and I wouldn’t be any the wiser. He was wrong about that, but he did have more control over my self-esteem and self-worth than I realized. So many things that I thought were kind and thoughtful gestures were actually just carefully thought out ways to sabotage me and keep that control.

In addition to keeping me numb and quiet, he would also continuously over feed me on junk food which not only caused me to gain weight, but fed into the cycle of depression and unhealthiness. He would act jealous over anyone I spoke to, regardless of how far away they were or how gay or how ace, despite how unreasonable he treated me for being upset upon finding out that he had been forming online relationships with people for three months behind my back during a particularly challenging time in my life.

He began to attack my gender identity, forcing me to rethink myself and step outside of what I knew and was comfortable with in order to manipulate me into surrendering my femininity. And while part of it has to do with his own closeted homosexuality that he can’t seem to justify to himself, a large part of it had to do with his own insecurities relating to said tastes and his feelings of jealousy toward me and his desire to steal my identity.

He toyed with me a lot during our relationship, claiming to want to be a girl, then going back on it, then claiming he wanted to explore it more, then claiming that he had determined he was secure in his masculinity. And at the rate he knocks up girls and sluts around, I’d say that statement is accurate. But as I mentioned, it isn’t just women that he gets hard for, and the only way he can seem to justify he tastes for the same sex is by dressing up as a woman.

There were multiple times that Ben let things slip in his sleep. He’s sloppy enough while awake, but the things he spills when he’s half-asleep, oh my. He had a tendency to get rapey in his sleep, sometimes to the point where I had to legitimately walk out of the room and sleep on the couch. I’d wake up some nights to him grinding me on his sleep and calling me by someone else’s name. And there were occasions where he would tell me things like “I wish I were you,” or “I want to be you.”

The first time he said that was while I was pregnant with our daughter. I was confused by it, but thought it was just a sweet way of saying that he held me in high regard. But after she was born, that was when he hurt me really badly the first time; the time his friends tried to warn me and I caught him on whisper talking shit. That was when he decided to try dressing like a girl again before proclaiming that he was over it and was secure in his masculinity.

Within the last year, he started behaving rudely when it came to gender politics and he started chipping away at my own gender identity until I started wearing chest binders and dressing more masculine. I even bought a fake beard because I became ashamed of my face to the point where I thought a fake beard would be less humiliating than just my general face. Because in addition to all of this, Ben also had a habit of nit-picking my face. At all times. Every day, multiple times a day, he’d point out that I looked angry. I don’t know if this was even true, but it was hard to deal with. I started to think I had resting bitch face, and I felt so ugly. So I started wearing things to cover my face, constantly.

After Ben left and I began to stretch out and reevaluate myself, I started to embrace my femininity again. That was when he once again started dressing like a girl, and adopted my old middle school role play nickname. I held it at arm’s length and continued trying to focus on me. I remembered how much fun I had when I dressed gothy and so I started buying more goth clothes and doing goth makeup. Soon after, Ben’s stolen female persona became gothic as well.

Throughout our relationship, he was competitive. He never appreciated my work. When we first got together, I wrote him songs which he ignored. Later he would snap at me saying “I never asked you to write me a song.” He talked up other artists (both musical and visual) but seemed to have an aversion to ever complimenting anything I did. And then last year, he started becoming competitive. I wrote better music now that I had better technology. This caused him to start trying music, too. And I didn’t have a problem with it at first. It was cool to feel like I inspired him and that he was finding something he actually enjoyed.

But after a while, his own musical pursuits were all he cared about. He stopped caring about anything I did. He’d brush it off, withhold support and affection, and constantly play his stuff for me instead. There were even times where I’d be working on music, and then he’d just walk in and start playing over me until I just gave up and worked on something else.

The behaviors became worse last August when his old friend Brandon came back into our lives. Now I want to make it clear right here and now that I don’t hold Brandon accountable for Ben’s actions or his choices. While it is true that Ben’s behavior got worse after they reunited, I don’t think that it’s any fault of Brandon’s, despite the things I may have said previously. He only harassed me because of the bullshit that Ben spoon fed him about me, and because of some of my own regrettable actions that were carried out as part of my attempts to free myself from the situation.

But back to what I was saying about last August. After the two of them started talking again, Ben’s behaviors grew worse. He instantly became more abusive toward Ivy, even physically. He became even more negligent to both of us. He withheld affection even worse than before, and suddenly, Ivy started having an awful lot of “accidents.” Some of them were, according to him.

But there was one specific day where she came running to me crying that he hit her, and I took this photo of the marks he left on her.

You’ll notice there is also some bruising on her knee. That was from the previous night where she had thrown a pillow at Ben, and he got angry and chucked it back at her full force, knocking her down and causing her to injure her knee on the bed frame.

I didn’t know what to do at the time. I felt so powerless. Any time I tried to talk to someone about him, they treated the situation like I was overreacting. And that’s how I’ve been met no matter what he’s done. He fought with me over chores. He took credit for chores that I did or when I would do chores, he would try to bully me out of doing them by making me feel like my tending to them was an attack on him. For example, I’d start cleaning my room because I enjoy having a tidy room, but as soon as he caught me doing it, he would get huffy and start complaining saying things like “I didn’t realize it was a cleaning day,” or “sorry I’ve been so lazy” (in a passive-aggressive tone). And I would tell him I didn’t need or want his help, but he wouldn’t stop harassing me until I gave up.

And he would do this about everything. He had to make a big show of “waiting on me,” as my mom would put it. It was all to make me look like I was a lazy, crazy asshole so that he could win everyone’s sympathy and get away with being an abusive monster. Because he had everyone thinking that I was the abusive one. Hah.

Me. The one who coached him about getting back in touch with old friends, even knowing how it had previously ended up, just because I wanted him to have the extra support after we lost Faron. So sure, I brought it on myself by being too nice. Not.

He took advantage of my kindness as much as he could. He took advantage of my trust and my love. He manipulated me and everyone else. Told everyone that I tried to keep him from his friends when I was the one who coached him toward getting back in touch. And then at the same time, he got jealous of me talking to friends and refused to let me go to social events where I could have met other people and started my own friendships.

At the end of the day, he succeeded in making sure than when he was ready to strike, I was completely alone. When he took off, he took most of my friends with him. But honestly, what could I have expected from people who were cool chatting him up behind my back for three whole months and learning all about me before I even knew they existed? I wasn’t myself when I called them fake-ass motherfuckers, and honestly, I don’t even remember doing it. But clearly, I wasn’t wrong. Because even after everything I did for everyone, all the support I gave to them all, round the clock, all the kindness I showed, free art I did, shoulders and ears I lent and advice I gave…

They still chose the side of the antagonist and are happy to gobble up his half-baked lies. And so I’m going to end this chapter with a few words of wisdom.

Never take the side of a sociopath. Their charm is part of their device. It’s how they gain control. And if you think you’re safe, think again, because you’re nothing but a pawn to them. The moment it becomes convenient for them to exploit you, they will. And they won’t think twice. Look at me. Look where I am. Do you really want to be here?

Part 16

Or, “The Wolf Who Cried Guilty.

Actions speak louder than words. Love isn’t a feeling, it is an action. Jealousy, however, is a feeling, and is often an unfortunate side effect of love, giving way to stupid behavior and clumsiness.

If one had nothing to hide, they wouldn’t hide. If one truly hated another, they wouldn’t waste their time saying cruel things about them behind their back. And if one were, say, smart, they wouldn’t publicly flaunt their illegal behavior.

It isn’t wrong to feel jealous. Feeling jealous doesn’t make one “crazy” or “pathetic.” Jealousy is an emotion that one feels as a result of their own feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. Do not run from it, and do not hide it. Speak of it, instead. Explain your feelings of inadequacy to the person who makes you feel that way, and try together to come to an understanding as to why you feel the way you do, and you may be surprised to find that you have nothing to worry about. You could be surprised to find that you’re not alone, and perhaps you ignite within that person the very same feelings.

Always remember that communication is important for everything we face in life. Without it, there is no understanding, and without understanding, there is no hope for peace.

Honesty is never the wrong answer. Regardless of how hard it may be to come clean about the darkness inside you, remember that it can only bring peace in the end. For the longer you let your guilt fester inside of you, the more problems it will inevitably cause. Guilt is like a tick. It creeps in, finds a nice place to nestle, and then begins to feed. It may take time for you to notice. And you may never notice, until one day it becomes this giant, swollen abscess, weighing you down and drawing stares.

Two things to keep in mind at all times that might help one to be the best person they can be are as follows:

1. What would me from 5 years ago think of the me that I am at this moment?

2. What might the me in 5 more years think looking back on this me?

For number 2, keep in mind the idea that as we grow and age, we become better and better people, and if we don’t look back on our former selves and facepalm, then we are not actually growing as people. And so you must always assume that for #2, the answer is something along the lines of shame.

So now revisiting question one, remember who you were then. Have you betrayed that person? Have you let them down? Have you made a liar of them and shamed them? And if you feel that the person you were in the past would also be ashamed of who you are being at this moment in time, consider that who you are choosing now to be is not great. Only then can you come to terms with it and begin to find your way back on track.

Now Recruiting!

If you were my friend and chose the wrong side when the great betrayal of 2020 took place, you’ll find that I am a very forgiving person.
I understand why you left. I don’t blame you a bit. However, it should be known that I did what I had to do to break the situation. I will never expect complete trust or forgiveness for my actions, but please believe me when I say that it was for a good reason.