Victim/Villian/Victor

Poor me. A tragic tale. An unfortunate little girl with no dad. A grief sticken mother. An abused wife. A life riddled with addiction and poverty. A beautiful martyr.

Angry me. Stubborn me. Tenacious me. Brilliant me. F*ck you, me.

In the past few years, versions of myself have emerged that I didn't recognize. But the major surprise was having to turn into a villain to remove myself from victomhood, and ultimately a victor. How in order to survive everything, I had to put myself as close to the line of turning into a bad person to get out of bad situations. I couldn't get away from the environment I was in, so I started pushing back. I'm not disappointed in how I had to act, but I'm disappointed in how that effected other relationships that were important to me, mainly with my children and friends. My body wasn’t big enough to hold my justifiable anger and it spilled out of my mouth. My inability to control my life (because others were controlling it), led me to start developing OCD like habits-which led to extreme irritability when everything wouldn't go the way I needed it to. I started adapting a weird communication style where I tried to avoid saying one negative word (so I couldn't be accused of possibly being upset, angry, miserable etc) that I became unintentionally rude, backhanded, and passive aggressive.

I can't tell the whole story yet (because of my kids), but I was told by people that cared about me that I was the #1 problem in a dysfunctional family; Except that is just scratching the surface. Its so twisted and unbelievable that it needs a whole book. But, someone calling me evil and saying I had a black heart and that I cared about no one other than myself (that I didn't care about my kids) absolutely demolished me. It was utterly confusing, and I took it as truth that someone saw something awful in me because I couldn't comprehend why someone would say those things unless they believed them to be true.

I started erasing everything about myself, since I was told I was evil. I didnt want to be that. The obvious and tangible good parts of me were gone-after losing my son I no longer worked a job that was a big part of my identity and me being a “good” person. People assumed I was decent when I was hiding behind a wheelchair or when I said I taught Special ed. I was even told I only did those things to “look” like cared about people. And, the people close to me said my actions of attempting to protect my kids was self-serving and that I was a bad mother. So, I stopped being myself. I actually got to a point where physically couldn't talk. I dont even know what parts of me are left. First I lost my child, then my career, then my home, then my marriage, and lastly my spirit-I resigned to the fact I deserved it.

Usually, its easier to manage a quality sense of self when receiving positive input from other relationships, but my friendships have dissolved into just about nothing. And, thats fair. I have NOT been a good friend. I have been selfish and insensitive. I had to care about myself more than other people. I had to focus on my pain. My role in a lot of friendships was to give advice, to be funny, talkative, spontaneous. I was stripped of those abilities, so my attempts at conversations turned into trauma dumping and inappropriate jokes. I felt like I've been asking too much of people. I became embarrassed of constantly going through something-I have felt I nothing positive to contribute, I live in a constant state of trauma.I have only called one person to cry about getting separated. I was in such dire poverty from being alone with 3 kids that I didn't even have enough seating in my tiny apartment to invite anyone over for coffee. I've shut EVERYONE out because I live in fear of rejection and more in fear of harming others. I’m unfortunately still hoping I can pull myself through this isolation, and creating self-worth from scratch has been imperative and challenging, but I'm getting ancy to re-enter a social environment.

Everyone hopes the villains get what’s coming to them in the end-is that what finally happened to me? When the bad guy finally gets their ass handed to them, they switch roles and now their the crumpled victim. Was there a point during this process of grief and abuse where I went from good guy to bad guy? It happens all the time…

Not to mention, having a victim mentality is exhausting for people to endure. It took me years to realize I was a victim, to recognize I was being harmed, not causing it. So, Ive had to sit and simmer in that mentality for a long time before I built up enough rage to break free. But, I want to have victor mentality instead. People only interact with me in a way the exudes pity instead of strength and hard not to get swallowed up in it.

In order to get out of harmful situations, I had to shift my mindset to one of victor. I saw myself shifting into a person I didn't like-and thats really the catalyst for change. The people around me were going to be who they were regardless of me, so it was my own responsibility to dig deep and and remember who I was.

There is definitely a perception that I’m a strong person, and its probably true, yet it's muddled with sorrow. I appear as a formidable advocate in my work. Its been an unintended side effect of living in the spaces of oppressive authority my whole life. I had to learn how to maneuver around a cop who put little pieces of paper around the house to see if I opened doors or cupboards when they weren't home. I had to create new distrct wide school policies because a school superintendent family member used their position to convince & lie to school officials they were guardians of my children. I know how these types of people operate, I’ve been having to survive in their presence my whole life. They thrive off vulnerable people and I've had to transform myself out of that position so they couldn't thrive off of me.

I win in my story.