But the sad truth is I don’t want to talk to close personal friends about what happened to me, that’s why I don’t have any left. I tried to tell someone, one person, what happened to me, in a moment of weakness I broke down and I let him see the worst of me.
For my efforts I ended up in a Psych ward over night, and on long term out patient care, so you can imagine my trepidation about sitting down and talking with people face to face about what happened to me.
The truth is that until 2020 I didn’t really start to think about my motives, or my actions, I just did whatever I had to do to survive. Now that I am no longer in survival mode, there are consequences for those actions, such as losing friends, and I have to accept that certain people will no longer be a part of my life.
It’s easy to say that it’s because their time with me is done, and maybe that’s true but it doesn’t change the fact that it still hurts to know that I had to burn so many bridges for the truth to come out.
I always figured when the truth came out, maybe I could find some semblance of peace, and while that’s certainly true it’s lonelier than I expected I guess.
I’m not really sure what I thought would happen but I know I am a lot happier now that the truths are out than I was before this.
I’ll never forget someone telling me how cold it is out here on my own, and while that’s certainly true at least I am not getting raped anymore…that’s a small comfort.
I know that good people will find their way to me in the future, and me to them but how will I know the difference? Will I recognize the signs when someone is abusive? How am I supposed to act around people I used to know who I used to call friend? Am I supposed to just ignore that they were a huge part of my life?
I miss my best friend, but I also recognize that the person I saw as my best friend was incredibly selfish, and only ever interested in being my friend when things were going wrong, as it it gave her a sense of superiority, which is why we’re not friends any more…it doesn’t change the fact that I miss her existence in my life.
There is something to be said to the idea that if people were meant to be in my life, or wanted to be they would be, but it still hurts to know that people I once consider friend can walk past me as if I never existed to them, without ever explaining what I did to make them go away.
In some cases yes, I cut people out of my life, and yes I have excuses as to why I didn’t have the long drawn out conversation with them about why, but it was necessary, which isn’t an excuse it’s the truth.
I was drowning back then, drowning so far down I couldn’t find my feet, I couldn’t breath and none of those people were helping to pull me out, none of them even noticed, so it’s good that they’re gone it’s long past time I start building a new life for myself, but it’s funny because for the most part I am not holding onto negative feelings for them.
I wish them all a good life – except my rapists, I hope they die in prison, I’m not even sorry.
I miss hugs and I miss physical touch, but I don’t really miss “people” in general, because they can be mean and abusive, but I miss having people to call and talk to so I sort of do miss people, and that what it means to be isolated, to me, even before the quarantine.
The truth is that I am a mess of emotions, there are people I should love that I don’t feel like I deserve to love and people I don’t love who wish I did, the trust gene inside of me has been so deeply broken I don’t know how to reactivate it.
I have an anger inside of me that I am genuinely afraid of, because I worry it will never heal, but just force me to continue a cycle of abuse that I am so desperately wanting to break, and I don’t know how to exorcise it properly.
I am working on it, but I’ll never know if I am on the right path until the day comes that my persons finally show up and join my life…if I am ever capable of letting them.
That’s not my focus this week, it’s just something that’s been rattling around in my brain.
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall