To Everyone Who's Ever Known Me

Originally published July 13, 2017

And I'm back! It's been a hell of a journey, but some semblance of sanity has returned. Seriously, though, life is finally stabilizing and it's beautiful. You may have seen me around Twitter (yeah, I finally got the hang of it). Mostly just liking and retweeing things and doing some fan lurking (I LOVE YOU, BRENDON URIE! Hush! Down fan girl. Don't give away all my secrets. Geez.) and a few other little bits and pieces here and there the past couple years. I thought about jumping in full-swing a few times, but hesitated.

See, shit got real. Had to go off the radar for a bit. Then, rebuilding my life was so damn stressful, I decided it was time to just let everything go. I needed a real hiatus. Just live life. And it fucking sucked. Like I can tell you from personal experience just how ass-backwards and broken the system is (in multiple states) when you're rock bottom kind of sucked. And so did therapy (or still does *sigh*). Truth be told, I was broken long before my Saturn Return beat me to a bloody pulp (on that note, shout out to the Universe: Thanks for not doing so literally).

I can point fingers at people, be angry—even justifiably angry—and tell you every intimate detail of how exes, in-laws, "the system," and anyone else did me wrong (oh, and they did). But I'm not going to. I lived it already and I'd really rather not relive the telling of it all here and now. You'll have to hire a biographer for that.

Instead, I'm just going to tell you some things happened around the time I was getting out of the Army nearly a decade ago. Parts of it some people out there already know (it was hard not to...). Other parts are secret. You'll never know and I couldn't even tell it all. Those involved likely couldn't either. Or simply won't. I honestly don't know which. I was blessed with support in various forms back then and managed to get back on my feet. But I was broken.

Every bad experience, miscalculated step, betrayal, abandonment; every tear shed, incompatible "friend," failed project, someone not answering the phone; all of it chipped away the broken pieces and I turned inwards more and more. My soul was shattered and even though I could still find my pieces, they just wouldn't stick. It was like goddamn dollar store glue. My Ego blazed as I turned and hid deeper inside myself until all that was left was my Shadow. And all the while, I would never have believed it. (Yeah, the chick who wrote Hela's Story. Not a fucking clue.)

I'm sure there are many of you who knew me through those years or who know me now who are arguing all this right now. You're armed with praises, pieces of encouragement, and kind words of how great/strong/beautiful/caring/nice of a person I am. My Ego thanks you. You gave me the greatest well of random junk to build my mask. I may well be all those things and so much more, but you have not known me.

I have been locked away, buried inside myself. I may have loved you, cared about you, longed for you, was grateful for you, and wanted desperately to be there with you and truly connect with you, but I didn't know how. I felt all those things, and still do, but couldn't express them. They were just out of reach like that blasted toy that fell in the backseat of the car with a screaming baby, speeding at 75mph, heavy traffic, and no time to stop. Fuck you, toy! Just sit there, then, and I'll suffer through the ungodly misery. The toy couldn't suddenly hover over to my hand, and my arm couldn't randomly stretch and bend as needed.

My life was hell these past couple years. I can't say I'd have done anything different, though, no matter how bad the choices. I made the best choices working with what I knew and had at the time. I can be mad at the liars, abusers, truly awful advice, and the people who could have—but didn't—speak up. But I'm so tired of being angry. (Seriously, it's exhausting. I gots too much to do to be held back by unproductive emotions.)

Instead, I'm just living my life. Building my self-esteem for the first time ever. ("What!?" you say, "I don't believe that." Yep. Never had it. Just little tricklings and random doses of overconfidence. Fooled ya, huh?) And now I'm bringing back that beautiful soul who shines so brightly there's hope yet left in this world. (And yes, she fucking cries during movies. Like really cries. Get over it.)

As the glue sticks (finally!), life is, well, alive again. I feel *me* bursting out! There's still some walls to knock down and much in the way of remedial training, but I'm coming back into my own and I'm so excited to be here. There's a lot of work to be done and a shit ton of fun to be had. Be gentle with me. I'm new.

I do plan to get back into things (website, writing, this blog, random stuff just because), but slowly. Where I used to throw out big promises, I really don't have time these days for anything grand like that. Suffice it to say, there will simply be more over time. Oh! And singing! There will be singing.

If you've stuck along this far, you're probably wondering what this is all about. This is my love letter to you. To all of you. Because I love you. Every single one of you alive in the world today. Yes, even the ones I hate, the ones who hurt me or broke me, the ones who took me for granted or simply used me, the ones who never listened, who wouldn't hear my cries or who turned away. I love you. Because we have all been on that road and that goddamn, fucking toy is out of reach no matter how hard you try, whether you even bother to try or not, and we don't all react to a screaming baby the same way. And why should we? I love you.

May there be light in everything you do.

Evylyn Rose