I’m narrating a tale that many women live with everyday.

I am vocalizing it because we all think it’s ugly to talk about it. But that’s the thing with everything that we do wrong it thrives on darkness.

Acceptance is a cure that we need in these hard times. I’m talking about seeking help.

As I grew up I realised every body’s life is as messed up as I think mine is.
High school was hard on me like it would have been for any sixteen year old girl trying to fit in.
Not victimizing myself because of the harsh realties of how bad my peers were. Or how I felt mentally exhausted. Or how I would cry for hours straight.
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“This is clearly not a sob story. It’s a tale of strength of moving on and of self recovery.After having to deal with issues relating to  self-confidence and self-imageI had realised I was still trying to fit in be something that I wanted to be as a teenager.Loved by all, beautiful, perfect”

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In some ways I had actually achieved that. I had a great set of friends, a loving caring family, a good cv bright future avenues.
But, This isn’t who I was deep inside. Outside the facade of probably being the best version of myself.
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Was me the real me, that I had Heatley hidden behind years of self-pity and a crazy unhealthy drive to be someone every one looks at when they enter the room.
In that space late at night while in front of the mirror I would see glimpses of Me.
A renegade, slightly bulimic, anxiety ridden and a pathological liar if you could call me that.
See acceptance right there.
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I had become all of that, living parallel lives obviously makes a liar out of you.
The need to project that image of what I was not had become so dear to me that I had actually become that person.
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And people would buy that heck people would fall in love with the cold ,high headed, over achieving girl , with the perfect set of eyes and blow dried hair.
No one would look or be fond of the girl sitting on the bathroom floor, eyes swollen anxious shouting in the pillows or the one who’d call you at 4 am to tell you her sob story now would they.
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Depression, anxiety aren’t something that anyone would have the time to help with  so the people around me rightly so rejected the me that would slip out in times of weakness. They would then accuse me of being a sociopath and my true self a projection of my dire need for attention.
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So I dealt with leading I don’t know how many parallel lives. I made best friends out of people I couldn’t hold a conversations with. Fell in love with people who’d accuse me of gas-lighting them into it. And maybe I did that 
In years of being that girl I never was, in school. I became the worse version of myself.
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Until he came in my life and everything came wrecking down all my parallel lives intermingled in creating the biggest chaos I had ever witnessed in my life.
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I might have gas lighted torched him into being around. Lied about everything I could but this was the person who saw right through the facade I had tried to build.
Through everything I had planned or plotted to happen .
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My house of cards had come crumbling down and I had assumed I would have been in a wreck with all going not according to how I wanted. But I didn’t I let him wreck every lie I had built and I think I did that because I had no energy to live the lives that were surrounding me .
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This person put in conflict of everything that I was running from but it finally felt better to come out of that halo of the perfect life.
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Yes, life came crumbling down. I felt a series of cosmic calmness in myself that I had ever felt.
I became that person who would slip out in moments of weakness and tried to tread that path of being just one person however imperfect that person would be.
Although, for the transition to happen I lost the messiah of my life . I had never felt so at peace .
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I looked at her and realised this woman in front of me is not different from me at all. The projection of me on Facebook and Instagram are another parallel version of being the person I couldn’t be in my real life. That maybe in terms to be accepted by the virtual world we stop accepting ourselves.
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