I’m not going away

Hi…no such luck. I'll be here as evidence that you are a coward. That you have failed at everything you've done. That you are not a star nor the diva you imagine. That you have stabbed your family and friends in the back and gloated as they bled out.

That you are pedestrian like me.

I'm lonely and depressed and scared and weak. But I will always be a member of the club—those who know what a shallow fraud you are.

I've been living with PTSD since 2010, when I first saw how powerfully you ignored the needs of others. Simple requests to stop small hurtful behaviors that you turned into epic public humiliations. Doron at a Toronto restaurant. Laughing in my face. Ignoring your mom. Your eternal backstabbing. 

Your favorite, learned at an early age: bad manners and withholding acts of kindness, generosity, or understanding.  You do these performances to show those who challenge you are worthy of disdain.  No one deserves this childish treatment other than the reflection of yourself in the mirror.  That reflection is your absolute truth.  What it tells you is accurate.  

Your image is clear even if the reflected being is compromised.

To see that kind of seething disregard up close…and to realize you would do anything to climb over me, changed my life. 2012, 2022, and 2023 stole my joy. I don't believe it will return. I've worked so hard to find it again.

I wasted my life with you, but PTSD isn't going to kill me. I'll be sick and damaged like all the others. And you will always know better than anyone.