I am a liar, I have lied about things in my past to everyone to escape what my life was. I lied to transplant myself to the life that I want to have lived as opposed to the life I did live.. The life that made and still does make me completely uncomfortable and fearful of someone who should have been my ultimate protector. This person was one who many saw as a pargon of Christian virtue, an upstanding member of the Society in which we lived. This person should have been my ultimate protector instead for 6 years I lived in fear of this person's actions toward me and what they could mean for my future were this person to continue to be there. I uprooted myself from that situation through my lies and in attempting to stop being this person's victim I made others the victim of my shitty past. I have nothing to lose now because my lies have cost me everything I wanted to keep, in telling the truth I became worse than scum to another person who had quickly become my everything.
The discomfort I experience when telling the truth about this person in my past is acute simply because by being honest with what happened I would have to overcome this person's reputation as an amazing member of that Society in which we lived. I believed that no one would believe what I had to tell them as the truth and therefore I was trapped in it. I used my lies to create a past in which I didn't live in this person's shadow, a past in which I became better than what this person had made me. Which is: A broken human being who has no idea how to truly be comfortable with who they are based on the fact that they are still a victim, I should have risen above this long ago and now am rectifying that situation as best as I can. This person whose actions effected me in such a ridiculous way as to believe that lies were better than the truth taught me how to lie. This person was seen as one thing by so many people, a whole town, a whole community and known by me to be something completely opposite and disgusting. In short they were a person who delighted in destroying the innocence of those in their charge simply because perhaps their innocence was taken from them in a way too awful for them to bear. This person is no longer in my life because this person passed away 15 years ago and were this person to have not died I would live in fear of them and most likely be more broken than I was. There was no telling what action they may have taken in the years between then and now that would have broken me even further. I have extreme guilt in that in some ways I rejoice in this person's death simply because I knew I was safe from them. The guilt in my rejoicing is that so mahy other people in that community still revere and worship this person. My family still worships the ground this person walked on, except for my cousin. Part of my being honest with this person's actions are that I found out that this person also took my cousin's innocence away. I just recently within the last year found this out and it has helped me come to terms with things. See, I was certain that I could keep this bottled up inside and away from my family because I didn't want to hurt them and I was not ok with it having happened to me but at the same time I could bear the burden of knowing what they were so long as it had happened only to me. I have since been more honest with most of my family as to what happened because I had to ask them some uncomfortable questions as to make certain that they had not been victims of this person as well. I was uncomfortably comfortable with shying away from conversations about how awesome this person was because I thought I was the only one. I was relieved when this person passed away because I thought I was the only one and I knew that no one else had been their victim. In learning there was another I then had to tell certain people so that I could ask them to be sure that there were not other silent victims of this supposed paragon of virtue.
The discomfort I experience when telling the truth about this person in my past is acute simply because by being honest with what happened I would have to overcome this person's reputation as an amazing member of that Society in which we lived. I believed that no one would believe what I had to tell them as the truth and therefore I was trapped in it. I used my lies to create a past in which I didn't live in this person's shadow, a past in which I became better than what this person had made me. Which is: A broken human being who has no idea how to truly be comfortable with who they are based on the fact that they are still a victim, I should have risen above this long ago and now am rectifying that situation as best as I can. This person whose actions effected me in such a ridiculous way as to believe that lies were better than the truth taught me how to lie. This person was seen as one thing by so many people, a whole town, a whole community and known by me to be something completely opposite and disgusting. In short they were a person who delighted in destroying the innocence of those in their charge simply because perhaps their innocence was taken from them in a way too awful for them to bear. This person is no longer in my life because this person passed away 15 years ago and were this person to have not died I would live in fear of them and most likely be more broken than I was. There was no telling what action they may have taken in the years between then and now that would have broken me even further. I have extreme guilt in that in some ways I rejoice in this person's death simply because I knew I was safe from them. The guilt in my rejoicing is that so mahy other people in that community still revere and worship this person. My family still worships the ground this person walked on, except for my cousin. Part of my being honest with this person's actions are that I found out that this person also took my cousin's innocence away. I just recently within the last year found this out and it has helped me come to terms with things. See, I was certain that I could keep this bottled up inside and away from my family because I didn't want to hurt them and I was not ok with it having happened to me but at the same time I could bear the burden of knowing what they were so long as it had happened only to me. I have since been more honest with most of my family as to what happened because I had to ask them some uncomfortable questions as to make certain that they had not been victims of this person as well. I was uncomfortably comfortable with shying away from conversations about how awesome this person was because I thought I was the only one. I was relieved when this person passed away because I thought I was the only one and I knew that no one else had been their victim. In learning there was another I then had to tell certain people so that I could ask them to be sure that there were not other silent victims of this supposed paragon of virtue.
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