Words

They're never enough.

It's been so long since I've written about my observations or felt comfortable being open enough to explain what I'm feeling or properly framing my struggles so that even a casual observer can grasp how fundamentally shattered I have become. In fact, I am still incapable of doing so.

I'm not the person I once was, and yet I am. I put my faith in all the wrong people, trusted in the altruistic assumption that most people are fundamentally good. It's simply not so. It's true; good and bad people are subjective and change depending on who you are most convenient to. There will always be someone to shit directly on your passions and soil your dreams, especially if you are as vulnerable as I am. It's the most unusual thing; for all the reservoir of strength I hold within me just to get through the day successfully without falling back off the wagon into the void, people mistake that as impenetrable armor.

It isn't. It's just skin.

I'm perfectly aware of how I am perceived by others, even when they have fashioned an elaborate maze of dishonesty and adopted a mask of friendship. I know. And I know when I'm being used, awake to being valued so little as to be reduced from a friend (much less a person) to a Reason or Scapegoat or excuse to be a fucking coward. I am done with cowards, and I am done playing nice anymore. In some circles, or at least in Pagan Leadership, it's my actual job to wear a professional face and referee. I have to set an example in that hospitality is a virtue, and to be friendly to guests with whom there is some awkward history is a simple tenet of being a leader and Not Being A Total Ass. You must treat others how you wish to be treated, and this includes the talk behind closed doors or private messages or subversive letters to the board. If you cannot talk to me because I am not worth your time or consideration, then you may go and fuck yourself because I don't have a single fuck to give you.

If I'm smiling at you knowing full well that I am hated by you, I am not being dishonest with you. I choose not to engage in activities that would spur unnecessary drama and have a responsibility to myself and to the people I am responsible for to maintain that order. No, more than anything I feel sorry for you because you don't know me at all. That is intentional. You do not have my permission to enter my world. You are relegated to a different sandbox; the one that has judged me based on appearances or very limited second hand information. You seek rumors. You speak poorly of others. You shame them. You are staying in the sandbox.

Because if you had even the slightest idea of how hard I fight for every breath I take every day and truly understood it, you would not believe me. If you bothered to try and understand, then you would not discard me so easily. You would understand that my time is precious and pressurized. You might grasp that I am wholly rejected by the society I live in as something that isn't worth the air I breathe. Less than a minority. Not conventionally pretty. Not especially interesting to most people except doctors with too much time on their hands. My ability to perform, to remember, to smile, to speak, to make music has been ripped from me. Words do not exist for this kind of devastation. This will absolutely please those that hate me to know, and I know they're out there. I want them to know that even though my pain brings them joy, their joy means nothing to me. Even though I despise them, I don't wish this evil visited upon them. That makes me better than them. That makes them less than nothing.

In short, I don't deserve it. I know this, and so don't pay these people much mind.

There are few options left to me: change my life and find a way to heal the damage I've endured or give up. Giving up is more seductive than it has any right to be. There is just so much pain. So much. So much that talking about it makes me no fun to be around, so I shift my focus.

I'm taking back my life now. You can't have it. I will save it to enjoy with the people I love, and you should do the same. My circle is small, but rock solid. My faith is unbreakable and I don't seek validation nor approval. You cannot have my heart.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll learn to dance my way to freedom. I've never been good at it. I'm uncoordinated and physically incapable of balance, but I will learn. Watch me, join me, or get out of the way.

I can change everything, and I will.


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