Greetings, fellow humans. I salute you from the 8th circle of Dante's exotic resort.
My story is full of terrors of the worst kind: those inherent to human nature. But dread not, friend, as horror brings light to those who keep their eyes open.
For years I've let my traumas speak and act for me. For years I've seen my demons lie to protect me. And I say, as I lay oozing from a thousand wounds, it's enough. They must stop. For you, who could need them, I come bearing my truths. There's no time to waste, so please sit back and listen.
Who I am
I'm a female by birth. My identity comes from the constant flux of the yin and the yang in my energy. It is both masculine and feminine, scorching fire and numbing ice. I'm Abraxas; good, evil, both, and neither.
I've lived 27 years, never thought I'd see the first lights of a 28th. I'm still not convinced I will, being honest. I carry a deadly tag, a self-inflicted target in my back, to which only I can aim. The diagnosis states chronic depression, manic disorder, and ADHD. Still, I'm a whole human beyond that, even when I'm too exhausted to acknowledge it.
I am my love for reading, which I discovered when I was three. One Thousand and One Nights I spent sailing other people's stories. My experience with the first books fueled the passion I have for writing. My pain indeed transforms it into a love-hate situation, but I do love writing to feel and to make others feel.
I live in one of South America's poorest countries. This means I have been training my whole existence to survive in harsh conditions. Resilience is a trait some wear as a badge of honor, but I'm tired of having to endure whatever punches life throws at me. I prefer to say that I inhabit the skein of my dreams, the one I've been weaving and untangling to construct a future. In my design, my home is a cozy place in a country like Canada, with a culture that encourages growth.
For you to understand the kind of person I am, know the following. I would take as many hits as necessary to at last convict my mother's abusive partner. I would do it to protect my youngest brother, his son, who he most definitely doesn't deserve. I would let the monster break my bones if I could shatter his entire existence after.
I am also a sister who takes food out of her mouth to feed her siblings. A daughter that gives everything to receive nothing until there's only emptiness left. I've sinned against myself for the sake of the holiest cause, to protect a child. I don't expect anyone to understand; still, I cry for forgiveness.
Looking back, I'm confronted with the terrible reality of not knowing who I am anymore. I'm not sure if I ever did. I can't merely be the scattered pieces of a thousand broken glasses, can I?
Who I'm not
📷 by Jaroslav Devia on Unsplash.com
I'm not Eliza. That's not my real name. She is a fictional character I've constructed to be able to use my voice. Eliza is a young girl who disappeared into thin air, and no one ever found her. I'm determined to find myself sooner rather than later. We are both daughters of chaos. We are the Óreiðudóttir.
Why I'm here
📷 by Aaron Burden on Unsplash.com
I believe society pushes kids, if not forces them, to pick a career way too soon in their lives. At least, I have to admit it was my case. In my heart, I've always known that writing is my calling, and yet I allowed my environment to deviate me from it. I have a college background in Biology but didn't get a degree. Although it gave me a lot of experience, it wasn't the right path for me as a professional.
Another subject I'm passionate about is languages. For me, it's easy to adapt to the culture behind learning a new language. My mother tongue is Spanish, but I've found some truths only emerge when I write in English. It must be a way of detaching from traumatic experiences.
I've tried to cope through writing many times. I've had other blogs in the last few years, but they have all come to a silent halt. It tends to happen after I crash against the wall of judgment. I can't be myself and use my birth name while also being truthful and not hurting anyone. I want to hold forth my story this time. Thus, I mean my words only for people who don't know who I am. Perhaps like this, we can find out together.
So, what can you expect from my voice and this space I've crafted for it? I will bring here new, unpublished content: the works of my mind as I reshape it and rewire it to its original self. In this corner of the internet, the wreck I am has the potential of becoming something beautiful. I intend to pursue that aspiration, writing from a more mature mindset this time. I'll explore if fiction, as told from the reality I own, could transform the past. No more of thinking, "what if none of it had happened the way it did?" Now, I wonder, what if everything did happen as I remember it?