Do you know what drives me in my life?
The one motivation which has pushed me forward time and time again, that drives me from the darkness into the light?
Proving people wrong.
It's not the most honourable of motivation but it's who I am.
Tell me I'm worthless - I will show you what I'm worth. It's 100 of you.
Tell me I'm a liar - and slowly but surely I'll blind you with the truth.
Tell me I'm finished - I'll show you the marathon, not the sprint.
Tell me I'm nothing - I'll be everything you wished you were and more.
I have made so many wrong decisions lately, all stemming from this incessant need to please, to be great, to achieve things bigger and better than anyone thought possible of me.
SUCH STUPIDITY.
When you are born, unwanted.
When you live, unloved.
It's hard not to see yourself as something or someone who MUST prove their value.
Because if you don't have value, you don't have worth, if you don't have worth, your dispensable.
I learnt this at a young age, my value was as a play thing.
I have always operated on the basis of being needed, being useful, being necessary.
Because if you are all of those things, the likelihood of you being tossed aside and thrown away becomes less likely.
Through my teenage years, my parents would laugh and poke fun at my ability to buy people, always compared me to my brother, who had a vast group of friends based on something quite different, based on something he offered other people - himself. Just as he was. It was enough. He exudes a self confidence that is very "take me or leave me, hate me or love me, I don't care"
That's the difference between us, I do care. I have always cared.
I live in constant fear of what people think of me.
Always have.
Whether its my parents, my teachers, my friends, my lovers.
I worry. Constantly.
Which is why I live my life like some sort of iguana, forever changing my personality, it is no wonder that at the age of 29 I still do not know who I am. Which version.
What I do know is how and why, I am who I am.
The good, the bad and the ugly.
What I do know is that all of it revolves around one very sad, self-pitying fact and desire, to be loved.
My beautiful, still very new to me sister said something quite startling to me when I was with her a few weeks ago.
"Stop finding your self worth in other people,"
How do you do that?
If you don't feel you have any worth, and the only way you have ever felt flickers of it is when you see it reflected in someone elses opinion of you, then it's an impossible habit to break.
I am inherently selfish.
I put myself first in most situations, I live entirely on instinct, be it not a very good one, its mostly self-preservation.
And yet at the same time, I put myself in the most ridiculous of vulnerable situations.
I give every fibre of my being and every inch of my life in some bizarre hope of helping people, being good for people, being kind for people.
Sarah tells me this too is selfish in essence, I compare it to the episode of Friends where Pheobe spends an entire day trying to do one selfless deed, a deed that can only be truly selfless is you don't even feel good about it, if it brings no positives to your life, only the person or situation.
I see it more as cleansing of the soul.
The only way to remember I am a good person at heart.
That if I can help someone, somehow, in some small way, it gives strength to my integrity as a decent human being.
Because, when you are the druggie, the hooker, the compulsive liar, the convict, the cunt, the cheat, the girl who had two sets of parents and neither stuck, well; its pretty hard to feel good about yourself, let alone try to get a balanced view of who you are.
I have never cried so much in my entire life than I have done in the past few weeks, I have felt like my entire world has been ripped from me.
But this week, I opened my eyes and realised thats just not true.
I am control of my life.
This life that I built.
I woke up.
Sarah was sleeping next to me.
Gordon was snoring.
The house was warm.
The coffee was on.
She went to work, I got to work.
And we somehow started again.
When someone tries to steal your essence, degrade who you are and all that you've done. Well, in me, its brings out anger, hatred, resentment, all such ugly qualities.
I've sat, spinning out of control, hating and hurting. What wasted emotion. What a waste of time.
All time I could have spent putting positive things in place, not safeguarding and protecting, just hard work and business as usual.
It's fire and ice.
I'm the fire, the shit storm is the ice.
I'll burn bright, and you my friend will just be cold.
As my friends and family and support sit and stoke my fire, we all stay warm, together.
You, well you will be left outside, in the cold. Showing the world you true colours and the ugliness inside.
You see the difference between you and I is that despite it all, the different versions of Fran, I know, deep down, who I am.
It's kindness and dreams, wrapped up in all the wrong approaches, but its pure, with delusionally honest intentions.
When people get hurt in my wake, it's accidental, because I'm too stupid to see what I've done.
But you, toxicity and poison, spread like a disease.
You know what you are doing. You always have.
I never claimed to be good, but you, just plain bad.
So come at me December, January, February, March.
Bring on the medication, bring on the CBT, DBT, the psychs, the hurt.
I'll take it all on, and I'll feel so much better for it.
Whats broken inside me, it's a demon, and I can't snuff it out, but I can try to cure it, it won't be there forever.
I'm going to bake and bake, until I feel better.
Until the money rolls back in.
You can't beat me.
Only hard work will win.
And that my friend, is something I LIVE FOR.
Thank you to my friends, for holding me together, for never loosing faith in me and constantly spurring me on.
In particularly Deenie, you lunatic. You've loved me for 18 years.
God only knows why.
But forever you make me feel, like me. Whatever that is.
Dance to Lion King with me forever <3
To my Sarah, who's heart is sore, but still manages to love me. Fruit cake.
For holding my hand when you'd rather use yours to slap me.
Just you. Truly.
To my somewhat incredible and insightful big sister, I don't know who you are or what you've done with Donna, but you have given me the best advice.
I will eventually listen.
I like to do things ass backwards and take the long way round, but I get there.
I promise I'm not Bridie part two.
The one motivation which has pushed me forward time and time again, that drives me from the darkness into the light?
Proving people wrong.
It's not the most honourable of motivation but it's who I am.
Tell me I'm worthless - I will show you what I'm worth. It's 100 of you.
Tell me I'm a liar - and slowly but surely I'll blind you with the truth.
Tell me I'm finished - I'll show you the marathon, not the sprint.
Tell me I'm nothing - I'll be everything you wished you were and more.
I have made so many wrong decisions lately, all stemming from this incessant need to please, to be great, to achieve things bigger and better than anyone thought possible of me.
SUCH STUPIDITY.
When you are born, unwanted.
When you live, unloved.
It's hard not to see yourself as something or someone who MUST prove their value.
Because if you don't have value, you don't have worth, if you don't have worth, your dispensable.
I learnt this at a young age, my value was as a play thing.
I have always operated on the basis of being needed, being useful, being necessary.
Because if you are all of those things, the likelihood of you being tossed aside and thrown away becomes less likely.
Through my teenage years, my parents would laugh and poke fun at my ability to buy people, always compared me to my brother, who had a vast group of friends based on something quite different, based on something he offered other people - himself. Just as he was. It was enough. He exudes a self confidence that is very "take me or leave me, hate me or love me, I don't care"
That's the difference between us, I do care. I have always cared.
I live in constant fear of what people think of me.
Always have.
Whether its my parents, my teachers, my friends, my lovers.
I worry. Constantly.
Which is why I live my life like some sort of iguana, forever changing my personality, it is no wonder that at the age of 29 I still do not know who I am. Which version.
What I do know is how and why, I am who I am.
The good, the bad and the ugly.
What I do know is that all of it revolves around one very sad, self-pitying fact and desire, to be loved.
My beautiful, still very new to me sister said something quite startling to me when I was with her a few weeks ago.
"Stop finding your self worth in other people,"
How do you do that?
If you don't feel you have any worth, and the only way you have ever felt flickers of it is when you see it reflected in someone elses opinion of you, then it's an impossible habit to break.
I am inherently selfish.
I put myself first in most situations, I live entirely on instinct, be it not a very good one, its mostly self-preservation.
And yet at the same time, I put myself in the most ridiculous of vulnerable situations.
I give every fibre of my being and every inch of my life in some bizarre hope of helping people, being good for people, being kind for people.
Sarah tells me this too is selfish in essence, I compare it to the episode of Friends where Pheobe spends an entire day trying to do one selfless deed, a deed that can only be truly selfless is you don't even feel good about it, if it brings no positives to your life, only the person or situation.
I see it more as cleansing of the soul.
The only way to remember I am a good person at heart.
That if I can help someone, somehow, in some small way, it gives strength to my integrity as a decent human being.
Because, when you are the druggie, the hooker, the compulsive liar, the convict, the cunt, the cheat, the girl who had two sets of parents and neither stuck, well; its pretty hard to feel good about yourself, let alone try to get a balanced view of who you are.
I have never cried so much in my entire life than I have done in the past few weeks, I have felt like my entire world has been ripped from me.
But this week, I opened my eyes and realised thats just not true.
I am control of my life.
This life that I built.
I woke up.
Sarah was sleeping next to me.
Gordon was snoring.
The house was warm.
The coffee was on.
She went to work, I got to work.
And we somehow started again.
When someone tries to steal your essence, degrade who you are and all that you've done. Well, in me, its brings out anger, hatred, resentment, all such ugly qualities.
I've sat, spinning out of control, hating and hurting. What wasted emotion. What a waste of time.
All time I could have spent putting positive things in place, not safeguarding and protecting, just hard work and business as usual.
It's fire and ice.
I'm the fire, the shit storm is the ice.
I'll burn bright, and you my friend will just be cold.
As my friends and family and support sit and stoke my fire, we all stay warm, together.
You, well you will be left outside, in the cold. Showing the world you true colours and the ugliness inside.
You see the difference between you and I is that despite it all, the different versions of Fran, I know, deep down, who I am.
It's kindness and dreams, wrapped up in all the wrong approaches, but its pure, with delusionally honest intentions.
When people get hurt in my wake, it's accidental, because I'm too stupid to see what I've done.
But you, toxicity and poison, spread like a disease.
You know what you are doing. You always have.
I never claimed to be good, but you, just plain bad.
So come at me December, January, February, March.
Bring on the medication, bring on the CBT, DBT, the psychs, the hurt.
I'll take it all on, and I'll feel so much better for it.
Whats broken inside me, it's a demon, and I can't snuff it out, but I can try to cure it, it won't be there forever.
I'm going to bake and bake, until I feel better.
Until the money rolls back in.
You can't beat me.
Only hard work will win.
And that my friend, is something I LIVE FOR.
Thank you to my friends, for holding me together, for never loosing faith in me and constantly spurring me on.
In particularly Deenie, you lunatic. You've loved me for 18 years.
God only knows why.
But forever you make me feel, like me. Whatever that is.
Dance to Lion King with me forever <3
To my Sarah, who's heart is sore, but still manages to love me. Fruit cake.
For holding my hand when you'd rather use yours to slap me.
Just you. Truly.
To my somewhat incredible and insightful big sister, I don't know who you are or what you've done with Donna, but you have given me the best advice.
I will eventually listen.
I like to do things ass backwards and take the long way round, but I get there.
I promise I'm not Bridie part two.
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