Exposed The other day I felt exposed and felt phony, like a fraud. Someone assumed something about me that wasn’t true and when it came out not to be true I was embarrassed and felt inferior and  like I was trying to be someone that I’m not even though I didn’t purposely misrepresent myself but I came across looking and feeling stupid even though it was their own misunderstanding. I DO wish I was someone else though, someone else more interesting, more impressive, more exotic, more alluring, more intelligent, more sophisticated, and so on. Other than travelling the world I haven’t really done anything exciting or interesting and I’m boring and milquetoast. I’m not smart,interesting, or exciting and I just want people to like me, to admire me, to think I’m interesting and worth getting to know….but I’m not. I have nothing to offer and there’s so much in my family(dark secrets, relatives we don’t talk about and such) and in my background that I always have to hide and keep secret( being molested by a relative,  the abuse( my grandfather was brutally physically abused by his father, I was abused), traumas that are too personal to share, certain relatives such as the drunkards, the crazies, the mobsters, the terrorists, the inbreeding,and so on that I always have to re-invent myself in order to cover up certain things , to protect myself, to guard my heart, to survive, to be safe, to escape myself, to try and stay sane,to save embarrassment and shame, and to run away from myself. I also hate this country(and living in this country) so much someone should  burn this place to the ground.

As well, today is a day that always reminds me of a certain circumstance in my life several YRS ago that brought great discord and trauma into our family and that tore us apart and that my hubby has always blamed me for, hated me for,and will never forgive me for( and no, it’s not an abortion or anything like that; I would NEVER!) too personal to share but suffice it to say that it still haunts me to this day and I will live with for the rest of my life. I don’t regret it though  as it was best for everyone but that’s not to say that I don’t regret the *situation* as a whole and that I still don’t feel guilty about it. He thinks that I just washed my hands of it and never looked back (because I don’t talk about it since we’d just fight) and that it does’t even bother me but I still think about it every day, pray about it and wonder, and it weighs heavily on my heart. It is the cross that I will always bear, and a canker that eats away inside of me that I will always silently carry alone.