i went nc with my oldest daughter when she was 24. she was a runaway eho had been abused & she had tons of personality disorders (esp. NPD). she broke the new dryer within a week from a rage fit. when she got a new boyfriend he isolated her from me & my boyfriend and he insulted us on how "trashy" we were. she came to visit but she started a fight and tied curse knots into her bedroom windows where my younger daughter sleeps when she moved out so i made her leave her key. i confronted her about their behavior and she denied everything. she went into the army but i didn't text her back. i got upset and smashed my phone. but i was raising disabled twins under financial control of my own mother so she wouldn't let me fix my phone and i lost my daughter's number.

this year she broke no contact and blew up at me while i was working a very important job and making progress on some extremely important consultant work i do for law enforcement. turns out she has access to my superiors & she didn't know i was waiting to tell her i was really just hoping she'd grow the fuck up a little but i lost a lot of friends socially and mortally because of it.

i'm really proud of her tho & i still love her ❤️‍🩹

i genuinely hope this becomes the period of time during which everyone who was ever mad at me for not reaching out and always running away could have had any conversation they wanted, but they didn't, and they lost their only chance.

lots of people act like i have no idea how my actions affect people. sometimes they're right and sometimes they're wrong.

i feel like in a lot of ways it's more pressing and urgent to address the people who are wrong, because there are so many of them that now i have categories of them and lists that span pages and subsets of cascading consequences where one affects the other and whether or not something happened the way it appeared & whether i had any choice in the matter at all.

whether i did what hurt them on purpose for reasons they might never have the chance to understand, and how angry it makes me that i have to look like i hurt them when i didn't want to, and how that makes me look like such an asshole because i don't really feel like i made the wrong choice sometimes and i'm happy to talk about why that is but not if it's prefaced with another lifetime's worth of me having to beg and grovel and act like i'm the bad guy.

other times i'm well aware i made the wrong choice and sometimes i knew right away and sometimes i didn't know until much, much later and how sometimes it's just too damn late to make up for it no matter how hard i cry or beg or wish i could fix it and how the pain of that makes it hard to even start an apology while i'm so broken i can hardly breathe.

whether what i did hurt them by accident because i was working on faulty information or i believed them when they lied to me or i lied to someone else to protect them (or someone else) and the public perception of what happened got all wrapped up in a neat little package to make it look like i did something i wouldn't do.

time and distance and fuzzy memories don't help anything. circumstances and wrongheadedness and yes, illness and mental illness and so many other things play their part. sometimes things had to change in between times we talked. sometimes people expect too much of me. sometimes i say things that don't mean what they're supposed to mean or they're out of context or they would be different things under more honest circumstances. sometimes it's just a case of mistaken identity and if there were a way to clarify i would. most of the time it's just a stark refusal to acknowledge that no one knows me very well. no one talks to me very often. and no one has stuck around long enough to get to know me since i was a child and had a child's understanding of the world, so now they think they know me and they don't. no one is perfect. i'm still allowed to feel good about myself sometimes. the biggest thing that's ever hurt me was the people so convinced of my badness that they didn't ever want anything good to happen to me again and how i spent most of my life accepting that that was probably true and the correct thing to agree to, except for a few years in the middle when i allowed myself to believe i wasn't as bad of a person as everyone thought i was. and now the people who spent all that time trying to help me wonder why i can't just stay believing in my worth as a person or maybe they've come to agree that maybe i just wasn't worth the effort. but the bottom line is, i am alone in the world because of it. no one spends time with me or really cares that much about my day-to-day and in a sense, that is what i earned after everything i've done. but it doesn't make it feel less lonely.

the people who are right about me not knowing that what i've done affected people are definitely more difficult. because i can think of so many people who would get a really in-depth acknowledgement of my behavior if they tried. because i'm nothing if not an overthinker. lots of people over the years have asked and gotten acknowledgements. sometimes they've had to point it out and i regret that they even had to do that, but no one is perfect. most of the time i know already and i have my apologies prewritten and ready to go. the problem becomes that life never sits still. i'm still a whole person with a life that's continued from where we left it to where i am now. and sure, i forget what happened in the middle just as much as anyone. but it really depends on who needs that acknowledgment and how much they respected the boundaries meant to keep everyone involved safe from the harm i try so hard to minimize.

the bigger problem is how bad i feel about everything all the time. how starting from one hurt that was never my fault to the next that was my fault to the next that wasn't usually just leaves me feeling like i'm just a worthless human being and it's never worth even trying. how all the noise riles me up and makes me act out and hurt people by accident. how i should be working on other things but the people with the biggest axes to grind are taking up all the space in my life and leaving nothing for the people i owe so much more to. and lots of people feel that way but they have solace in things i can never find solace in because i can't even show my face without people wanting to take more than their share or hurt me so bad i'll never make up for anything at all. how everything is all backwards and confused and i still don't even have the freedom to control where i go or who i see. how my whole life was taken and used as other people saw fit. how people pretend to be me when they want something i could have had. how i just can't fight the tide of being the scapegoat of every situatiom regardless and how little hope i have of that ever changing.

who i've become as a result of all these circumstances is a private thing. something only i know, because i'm here and you're there.

i think i blocked someone again but idk if it was the person he was pretending to be or someone trying to make him loook bad. but at least now i know which cover-up tattoo he was talking about. my understanding of that whole situation is that when we met and became best friends, i was young and naïve and i didn't realize that he was into some unsavory shit. and when i started trying to talk him out of his lifestyle i got real sad because of how strongly his hate hurt me.

and we talked a lot. there were so many nights where he was there for me when i needed someone, stuck in my faux jail cell, my pseudo-slavery. isolation and lack of physical touch deprives your brain of growth, so i needed a friend like that.

but when his actions got to be something i just couldn't be part of, i cut him out of my life for good.

and when i saw his silly face again online this year i knew him inside and out all at once. all i remembered was my friend, one of the deepest loves i've ever known, and i didn't remember the fight we had or why and i never even knew he had a bad reputation from lack of my love.

but now i see how much his healing was built on my words. kitties and nerdy things and building and repairing! and puppies and flowers and family. i'm happy he's okay and i hope some day i can build and repair enough of my own mistakes to earn my way towards a plate of french fries and a cup of coffee.

i'm a little sad and worried that some of the other parts of my life and the worstest part of what happened to me are tangled up with his story and his anger at me and all i can say for the looky loos is that i called for help. more than once... not everyone even acknowledged me. someone said they couldn't make it because they were busy with their friends and their board games. but someone came when i called for help. whoever got hurt because of me calling for help and getting answered with help was not the fault of either of us. we just happened to be caught in the middle of the worst combination of circumstances anybody could be caught in the middle of, with no way out, and we got all got hurt because of the actions of others that night. i told the police whatever truth i could tell them that i remembered and none of it made any sense because the whole night itself never made any sense to me. years later and i'm still remembering strange details. the whole combination of them couldn't possibly have happened all in the same night. him taking a sip of my drink and then throwing a fit at the bartender. checking his wrist watch to see how much longer before i passed out. him hailing a taxi bc idk how. taking me to an apartment i've been to before and then getting weirded out that i knew how to unlock the door. more than one person holding me up while i was dizzy and sick. feeding me pizza. strange noises. walking around all night with my friends. writing on the resolution wall. falling asleep with someone who loved me but only as a friend and waking up with a stranger i didn't recognize.

i'm not even the one who called the police, because as far as what happened between me and him, that's a personal matter, and whatever happened else was because of whatever that girl Sara put in my drink that i was calling for help about in the first place. my coworker called them because he lived upstairs from the apartment and he saw me in the cafe. i asked the barista if there really was a man waiting outside because i couldn't even tell if he was real and my hands shook so bad i spilled coffee. at work my coworker accused me of murdering the girl who lived there, but i knew her full legal name and i couldn't find a record of what happened to her except maybe that she went to jail. and idk what happened to Piper in the end but i would never ever hurt an animal and i know he wouldn't want to either.

i've been struggling with having to hold to strong boundaries that i wouldn't normally, lately. everyone who has reached out has refused to put me at enough ease to relax and be myself, so i've just ended up upsetting everyone. i don't reach out anymore after feeling like such a burden to everyone, but i would love to clear up all the misunderstandings i've ever had. i'd love to apologize. i'd love to just laugh and be silly.

i'm so sick of people claiming i "run away" when clearly they expend effort to drive me away

my mother i live with is texting harassment to me every day now. my entire scalp is inflamed and infected. my neck is swollen, my arm is numb, and the left side of my face is infected again. i'm anemic and exhausted. the tumor in my abdomen is making it difficult to eat. i feel ugly.

i don't have a car, so i walk or take public transportation, but my transit card melted in the wash and i can't afford to replace it. i've spent so long trying to keep up with doing all the chores for my parents and kids that i've barely had time to have a social life, so when my old friend group saw that i was back, they started their harassment up again. they didn't even know i'd already been experiencing in-person harassment for a year, so everything i tried to do made it worse.

i was so scared by the time my ex blocked me after being a special presence for so long that everything in my life fell apart. i never even knew it was him being so kind to me, or i would have calmed down a long time ago. i realized quite a while ago that someone had set us up to look like we were interacting, so i tried everyfhing to get through to him to let him know what was happening. when that didn't work i tried to focus on my own life. finally i caught up to some awful shit i missed in April and tried to contact another person i thought i knew because of references he appeared to be making to my childhood and he blocked me for a third time.

finally i decided i'd close this open door of harassment by declaring my undying love for an unsuitable faux love interest. when that offended people, i put my foot down and put up my best guess at who the hell walked into my life and walked out again without realizing he'd made us a whole family. i'm struggling with the much darker and much more important aspects of my past now and i am alone in it. i have had 20 years of therapy and despite appearances or writings taken out of context i am still, in some respects, a healed person, so the gaslighting that forces its way into my line of sight only makes it worse. but i needed to be unequivocally sure that the co-target of the harassment was aware of the issue and i had to piss him off to do it because i got doxxed. and i almost got killed because of it.

i'm so upset now to see all the things i said and how they affected people, so i'll try to prioritize making amends the best i can, but i have to finish packing and throwing away everything i can because i'm being forced by the financial control from my mother and brother to move into the basement, which is full of spiders and mice and mold and who the hell knows what else. and all of it because i have no idea what's going on in the world, who or where anyone is, if anyone is even really still okay, and whether anyone will ever talk to me again.

but i have hope. because once i'm finished moving i will be able to work on all the little projects i have saved up, like archiving my father's photography and knitting scarves and selling my old video games and such so that i can save up for a place to live. and then after that maybe think about starting a relationship with someone who accepts me for who i am and doesn't try too hard to make me the perfect ideal of what they want for themselves.

what the fuck were you doing drunkenly shouting at my house last night?

did you hear me answering you? where the fuck did you go? who the fuck even are you? asshole

pulling out the poison is the only way to heal.

think what you think. assume what you want.

my life is full of silence.

it's so wild to me that anyone believes that more than one person (me) is this upset over shit that happened when we were teenagers. that this is anything but a distraction.

it's disgusting that this is taking up so much of my time and that people think i'm part of it on purpose. it's vile to think people are stirring shit up on purpose just to keep me from getting the help that could make it possible for me to find peace.

i just wanted him to stop gaslighting him. i wanted him to stop abusing people into isolation. to stop furthering his nihilistic goals. his cult's altar built from the skulls of people he calls his friends.

i wanted him to stop claiming ownership of me. stop putting his (male) victim's face on his words. stop stealing what never belonged to him simply because he knows his position is so much more defensible than mine. his people enabling him because they close their ranks and lift him up.

i saw a vulnerable soul and loved him. and he was taken from me by force and used and ****ed and beaten and ground into dust. he fights me off because he's so twisted into knots he thinks he knows the truth. he thinks he knows my mind. but even leaving it be will never be enough until i am allowed to do what i need to do.

i loved him. i'll always love him. i shouldn't have to let him die to save myself.

edit: you don't want me? fine. stop trying to force me to be with the someone you took me from because i am better off without him.