People misunderstand me. I think everyone thinks Iām publishing my writing as a personal vendetta towards them when that isnāt the case. Iām simply writing my truth. They have the option whether they want to believe me or not. Iām not trying to get anyone in trouble or accuse anyone of anything. I donāt want people to think ill of me but I have these fervent need to write my story down and get it out of my head. Itās unfair that people assume Iām just trying to make false accusations and personally attack. Iām just stating my truth. Isnāt this how the story goes though? Woman speaks out about abuse and is met with anger? Iām only serving as the mirror looking back at people. If they donāt like what they see, itās not my fault. I have to remember Iām brave and my story deserves to be told. I have every right to share whatās happened with me. I know that doesnāt mean everyone is going to love it. I just wish my family didnāt think Iām trying to spread lies. Thereās nothing Iāve said that isnāt true. Atleast, from my point of view. Iāve added disclaimers when telling other peopleās stories because I can only speak on what Iāve been told. Im not trying to be underhanded. Why does it have to be this way? I never asked to be a catalyst. Itās seems as though I serve as one in almost every persons life I enter. Itās exhausting. I donāt want to be a mirror anymore. Iāve eased back on diagnosing people and trying to psychologize people. I know im not a professional and I shouldnāt try and manipulate others as if I am. Itās always been with good intentions. Maybe selfish reasonings. I canāt help that I find people interesting. I like figuring out the root of what makes them tick. I want to know everything. Iām hungry for information about human beings. Which is ironic considering I also have a deep hatred for humanity as I feel like Iāve been wronged by humanity more than once. Im working on changing that mindset though. Humanity is just a scapegoat for my problems. Iām making things more macro and I need to make them more micro. Iāve avoided conflict with so many people for years. I canāt just hunt down every person Iāve abandoned and made to feel a certain away so I can apologize just to make myself feel better. Thatās selfishā¦right? And I donāt have the time or resources to do so. My uncle commented on a couple of my Facebook posts. Iām paranoid everyone in the family has read what I wrote. Am I doing the right thing? It was my mom who suggested I write a book about my life. Maybe this isnāt a book but I am writing about my life. My intentions are not to demonize anyone. Iām fact, I feel like mature adults would understand that there are multiple sides to every story. Iām only providing one. Itās not my responsibility to coddle anyoneās emotions about what Iām writing. I am more than willing to have a discussion about my work. I would love to talk things out with people. Iām really trying to keep my writing neutral and not spend the entire time casting blame on anyone. My life is my own. Wellā¦maybe Iāve been blaming my grandpa for a lot of things. I guess I didnāt realize it until just now. Maybe my uncle is rightā¦maybe I do need to stop blaming others. I didnāt realize thatās what I was doing. Iāve been feeling like thereās a curse on my family and that Iām doomed to live a meager existence. Someone pointed out online to another user that it was a feat in itself that they hadnāt become part of the ā27 club.ā I keep telling myself I just gotta wait til next month and Iāll be 28 and that means the worst of itāll be over right? Iāll have surpassed the worst of my life and only better things lie ahead in wait for me. Iām tired. Iām not trying to shift blame. Iām at the point that I need to take responsibility for my life. Itās hard to come to terms that the decisions Iāve made are my own. Even the ones made during a manic episode. No matter the intentions behind any of my decisions, some were poorly executed and hurt people. Itās difficult to take responsibility but I have to. I donāt want to be 80 years old, blaming the world still for how cold I turned out to be. Thatās not who I am. I know Iāve done bad things. I know Iām capable of evil things. And I know in my attempts to continue surviving, I may have chosen wrong. Many times. Iāve never meant to hurt anyone. I care more for others than Iām willing to admit. I have trouble letting people in to see the real me. I think people assume they know me because Iām open about my trauma and Iām willing to share my story. Thatās never been hard for me. Iām an honest person. I have trouble lying. Even in situations where it would be best for me to lie. I struggle. Iāve been taken advantage of because of it. But itās also a strength of mine. I pride myself on having integrity. That comes easy to me. My morals may be a bit askew. But Iāve always been able to come clean about things in the end. Iām done carrying this weight around. Iām sorry world. Iām sorry Iāve hurt you. Iām sorry I abandoned you. I thought I was saving you. I thought I was doing good by staying away because Iāve only ever thought of myself as a monster. My love injures. I thought the only way to love people was from afar. I canāt go on like this. Iām tired of meeting wonderful people and then abandoning them because I love them so hard and I know my love will hurt them. Iām starting to realize love is pain. Love isnāt meant to always feel good. To love is to feel pain. And Iāve been so set on avoiding more pain that itās kept me from experiencing the beautiful parts of love. Yin and Yang. Where there is dark, there is light and vice versa. I feel so stupid. Now that Iāve declared all of thisā¦where do I go from here? I donāt think Iām capable of letting people in right away. Iām scared. I donāt want to get hurt. In times like these, I wish I could talk to my nana but that mean calling my grandparents and Iām not ready to face that. I canāt avoid it forever. Iām sure they know what Iāve written by now. I feel like maybe I should regret it. But these secrets have been holding my family and I captive for so long. If it wasnāt me, it would be someone else down our familial line to release them. Iām freeing us. Iām tired of feeling guilty and ashamed for things I didnāt do. I refuse to pass this on to anyone else. If I choose to have a child or even just foster kids, I have to work on myself and release these demons. Even just harboring friendships means letting go. I want to put this all to bed so I can live a happy, healthy life along with those who come after me in my family. Being honest means potentially sacrificing relationships within my family. Which sucks. It feels so lonely sometimes. I want them to be proud of me. I know itās their own shame and guilt thatās getting in the way. Iāve done nothing wrong. As for things I did do wrong? Iām working on making amends. Iām trying. God, am I, trying.