I Survived.

6 May

I survived an abusive relationship. I didn’t come out unscathed but I am alive. It shocks me now to think how helpless I was during the years of emotional abuse from The Forgiven One and how his put downs and efforts to amplify my worthlessness have affected my life. I have been robbed of so much – particularly my self-esteem – and I still have nightmares about my experiences. I realise now that I only tried to rekindle a romance with him out of desperation to win approval. To be more than the nothing he made me believe myself to be. I feel sad that the damage he caused has turned out to be irreversible and this evil liar is still affecting my life and wellbeing, all these years later. If I could go back in time, I would tell my younger self to be stronger; to walk away from evil and to find someone who won’t revel in exploiting and manipulating my weaknesses, as The Forgiven One so cruelly did. He is not Forgiven by the ghost of my dead soul. He is hated. Despised. And guilty of murder. 


Fabulous at 40? Not At All.

23 Apr

Today is my 40th birthday. Not once did I imagine that I would reach this milestone as a washed up ‘has-been’, deemed worthless to all, unhealthy, untalented, unemployed, alone, childless, lonely, broke and in debt. The years of depression triggered by The Forgiven One have left me unemployable. All my job applications are met with criticism and questions:

– “There are concerns about your suitability for a full time role.”

– “There are too many gaps on your C.V.”

– “You’ve been out of the game for too long.”

– “Why did you leave so many long periods between jobs?”

I keep trying to leave the past behind and to make something of myself, only to get a reminder with every knock-back. Even my nightmares about The Forgiven One have returned – yet more demented visions of his evil nature and self-serving agenda. The twisted demon is still getting the last laugh – as if destroying my life, reputation and sanity hadn’t been enough victory.  

How do you tell a prospective employer that you had to face your dad’s Parkinsons diagnosis, your mother’s battle with Cancer and your own failing health with not only finding out that you’re completely worthless but also crippling depression after being backstabbed and humiliated by the one you loved? You can’t. Not if you want them to employ you. 

Instead, I look ‘lazy’, ‘work-shy’ and ‘selective’ in my employment history. I can’t win. I couldn’t work because I was sick: heart-sick. I was traumatised and grieving. I lost everything. I had to have counselling for nine months. I tried to kill myself. I wanted to die. I still yearn for Death; I just know better than to waste my time chasing the Grim Reaper. He’s another one that gets his kicks from making me suffer. He enjoys making me wait.

Fabulous at 40? Not at all. What’s so fabulous right now? Not much. Nothing, really.  I always imagined I’d celebrate my 40th abroad, with family or friends. Instead, I am spending most of the day on my own and have been bullied into cutting a cake in the evening for the sake of my nieces.

I love those girls and I would do anything for them – including feigning birthday cheer and blowing out candles. I’ll do it for them but I feel nothing but contempt towards myself. I don’t care about getting older; I care about my failure. I care about my failure to be a valued human being. I care about my failure to be worthy of respect. I care about my failure to be equal to others. I care about my dire situation and the example it sets for my nieces: how long will it be before they realise how others regard their aunt? How long before they, too, judge me as expendable? 

My old life is over – all of it. It’s all gone… No money. No job. No close friends. No close family ties. No self-worth. No home. No reputation. No sanity. No lover. No beauty. No purpose. No sleep. No rest. No joy. No happiness. No health. No hope. No soul.

They say ‘life begins at 40’ but they’re wrong: how can you begin a new life when you’re already dead? I have no idea. 

Still, I trudge onwards. There’s simply no where else to go. I am not suicidal in the sense that I am plotting my early death but I am helping my natural passing to arrive sooner than others anticipate. I regard myself as resigned to my only possible fate. I don’t belong here for the long haul. I exist but I am not living. My soul is dead so how can my death ever be a suicide? You cannot kill the dead. 

I am a ghost… a shadow of my former self. I am walking this Earth, watching others going about their daily lives, standing within reach, only I can’t connect with them, physically or emotionally. I’m trapped in limbo. Or Purgatory. I’m not sure which.

I get through my ‘life’ one day at a time and try to make the best of it even though I feel detached and lonely. I know I am strong. And capable. After all, I have made it this far. I have been through too much to give up now. I find the good in my day, in my own head, lost in new discoveries that others could never begin to fathom. I am experiencing a rebirth, following a strange, supernatural journey. 

I have laid to rest my soul and I am getting to know the person left behind in the void: she’s got potential. That’s a start. She may not be worthy but she is mine. I don’t have anyone else to call my own and I need a new best friend. It has been so long since I have felt any self-love. I hope I will grow to like this alien creature rattling around in my brain. I pray she doesn’t die and leave me alone, too. 

I am so tired of feeling alone. It hurts in ways I cannot describe. I am tired of hurting. I just want to live in the world and to not have to worry about people like The Forgiven One coming along to deliberately hurt me. I have lost my soul and most of my health. My career is over. My future is in question and today is my birthday.  I am getting older but I don’t know who I am. 

Rooting for those who would happily see me rot in Hell

19 Apr

I heard that an estranged friend got married recently – the one whose friendship I lost following the actions and lies of The Forgiven One. This lost friend probably hopes I rot in Hell after hearing all the untruths spoken about my lowly being, yet I am so happy to hear that he has found love and tied the knot. I wish him every happiness for the future – I really do. May he have a life of love, joy, good health and children. I hope he and his new bride enjoy all the things The Forgiven One stole from my future and will never know the pain of hardship and loneliness. I pray his wedding will inspire The Forgiven One to marry his girlfriend and start a family. It’s long overdue.

There’s Something Strange In The Neighbourhood 

16 Apr

Strange things keep happening. Strange as in ‘otherworldly’. People think I’m crazy, but that’s nothing new. I don’t care; I know the truth. Something has come for me – not Death, something else. And we have met many times before, at the intersection of this world and the next. I am being watched and, possibly, protected. But why? For what purpose? I still don’t belong in this world, yet my presence here is being ensured by something greater than any living force. 

The Past 

1 Jan

The Past has had its last breath,

Killed by the Present with a swift, sharp blow,

All my worthlessness perished with its death,

I finally stand taller wherever I go.

Yes, I Bloody Well Can.

27 Dec

I can do this. I really can. I can face anything that life has to throw at me. I write these words whilst going through one of the most awful challenges of my life, with no close friends nor solid family ties to help bind my grief. I am also unemployed, in ill health and falling back into debt. Yet, I know I can survive it all. Somehow, I know what needs to be done and where my story is heading. I can move forward. Can I beat the odds? Yes, I bloody well can. Watch and see. 

I Can’t 

21 Dec

I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t. I want to throw my worthless body from a bridge and find eternal peace. I am sick of living as less than everyone else. I am sick of being the odd one out. I am so tired of breathing in everyone else’s air; it was never meant to be wasted on the likes of myself. This world is for the valued – the loved and worthy. It is no place for the worthless. I hate living. I hate continuing through each day with the knowledge of my worthlessness. It weighs so heavily, my heart no longer exists. My chest cavity is filled with debris – rubbish, just like the rest of me.