Dear Matt [+Bonus Blog]

Introduction

Hello, readers. This Blog is an odd one. It comes in two parts; the first being a "letter" of-sorts to someone, which I wrote prior to their Birthday, but am only now posting after their Birthday has passed, and after several weeks of breathing exercises and courage gathering; the second being the originally composed Blog post, dated December 22nd, 2018. Yes, I have been working on writing this for that long... So, without further-ado... [forewarning: this post is longer than a lot of others]

Dear Matt

My smartphone screen capture
of the Google Calendar
Notification that it scheduled
to be sent to me every year,
several times in the weeks
leading to his Birthday, so I can
plan surprises, buy gifts, etc.
[Names of persons commenting
on Pages have been censored]

My phone sent me a reminder today. It’ll be your Birthday, soon. Thinking about that fact, and the fact that we used to be so important to one-another that I didn’t just rely on Facebook to tell me, that I had Google Calendar set-up to give me advanced-notice; the fact that we used to be so close, and now we are so far, far apart… I cried for hours… And then I started typing…

I’ve tried writing to you before, so many, many times. Sometimes I was angry. Sometimes I was sad. But with every letter that I wrote you, I always circled-back to “I miss you”, “I forgive you”, and “I’m sorry”…

For upwards of two years, I haven’t written in my Blog, and I’ve cowered-away from the world inside my flat, telling myself that I’m scared… of you…

I went for years without seeing you, and then suddenly, you became this big part of my life again, through third-parties, via friends, at events, etc. I know I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry for that. Surely you know that I still care about you? I never stopped, and I never will. It’s just that, after what you did to me, seeing you again smacked me in the face like a rock, and stabbed me in the heart like a knife. I was so, so overwhelmed with all these different emotions, and I just couldn’t cope… Instead of letting the positive emotions win and approaching you with open-arms of friendship and reconciliation, I let the negative ones take-over, and I told our mutual friends that you abused me and I didn’t want you anywhere near me…

I hid in the toilet, shaking and crying for so long that day at the convention… And then I went out there, head held-high, and ignored you. In all honesty? I plumped-up my breasts, lifted my skirt to show-off more leg, and wiggled my hips around that convention like I was the sexiest woman on earth. I hoped that would look at me and lust over me and think “I could have had that, if I hadn’t f****d up”. And do you know what? You might have.

But, you did fudge-up, Matty. More-than-once, let’s be honest (remember the time when you thought that it would be funny to randomly be naked in-front of me? That was a great call…). And I just kept forgiving you, time-and-time-again, and letting you carry-on being a part of my life… Until you went too far… I still forgave you, of course. Forgiveness is just a part of what makes, me, me. I can forgive the “unforgiveable”, apparently, so of course I can forgive what you did… But to this day I still don’t know why you did what you did, and I think that that is what hurts the most.

I get that you were attracted to me, and you wanted sexy-time with me. I understand that, I guess. But why couldn’t you have been patient with me? Why did you keep-going even after I said “no”, and knowing me as well as you did, how inexperienced and nervous I was; how I needed time to be comfortable with that stuff? Were you that impatient? Or was there more to it than that?

I know that you claimed to suffer from sexsomnia and were therefore unaware of your actions and unable to control them, but that is a genuine, serious medical condition, and you need to be in a state of REM sleep to "activate" it, so I'm thinking that was a lie. It's understandable. People lie when they are ashamed. It's only human. If you have evidence that this is true, though, please show me... 

Matt (right) and me (left) on 10th September, 2014
at The Viking Playground in Cliftonville

Your reasons/explanations aside, I know that I am not without blame, here. When I Blogged about you before, I failed to mention how I used you to help ease my post traumatic stress symptoms. I was honest with you and told you what I needed, and you said it was fine, and we just carried-on doing that, even though you clearly wanted more… Heck, I wanted more, and that’s why the “dry humping” (I really cannot think of a better term for it, can you?) felt so nice and helped to ease my PTSD. When it felt like I was being raped and all I wanted to do was shake and cry, you and I found an alternative. “Riding” you, fully-clothed, meant I was taking those negative feelings and I was turning-them-around. I was taking back my sexuality, and it felt great… Given time, I really thought that you and I would have gone further, and I even told you that… So why didn’t you wait?

I loved you, and I think you loved me, too. We neither of us said it, but there was definitely a connection, there, that was growing into something wonderful… Until it became something traumatic, instead… And, much like with Mark, after what you did, touching me without my consent, trying to push yourself onto me, I just had to say goodbye to you, though it broke my heart.

For months, I was a wreck. I even tried to killmyself, and had to be hospitalised. Twice. But I pulled-through. I always do…

But then, fast-forward to when I saw you again, at the convention, and it all just came rushing-back… And then I saw you again at the gaming club, and again on the bus, and again at the train station, and even outside my home… Time and time again I would see you, and time and time again it would kill me inside… I was overwhelmed with emotions. I was scared of you, of what you did to me; but I was also missing you terribly and remembering how good we were together and wanting desperately to have you in my life again…

I was torn in two, between fear and love, and it was breaking me again… So, I wrote you a letter. It took me months and dozens of rewrites, but I finished it, and I asked a few friends to pass-it-on to you… And they basically told me that you hated me and wanted nothing to do with me… And that really did break me…

I wanted to hate you, like you hated me. So, so badly, I wanted to hate you, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. My boyfriend and some of my friends – the ones I spoke with about you – tried to convince me to, but I was stubborn. I always have been, and I always will be.

A few screen captures from a Discord chat with a friend,
regarding my experience with Matt. Dated 09th June 2019.
(click to enlarge)

But they persisted. They told me if I hated you, I would feel better. It would heal me. It would make the pain go away… So, after a few months, I got so desperate to make the heartache stop that I gave-in to their pleas and I let the hatred in... And that’s when things got much, much worse…

2018 was the worst year of my life. I became an angry, bitter person. I wasn’t myself. I did hurtful things to people I cared about. I became an alcoholic and a (prescription) drug-addict, self-medicating in an attempt to kill the pain I felt inside… I lost some of my oldest, dearest friends, and my relationship fell apart, all because of who I became. I hated myself, I hated you, and I hated the world and every-one in it.

After my partner and I broke-up, I did some “soul-searching”. Our break-up felt so anticlimactic! We both of us didn’t even seem upset by it. It was weird... I had to think long and hard about why that was, and I reached the conclusion that I wasn’t the person that he had fallen in love with. Not even close. I had completely changed, and not even in the slightest of good ways... So, I asked myself why. Why was I so utterly different? Why had I lost my love? My friendships? Myself?..

It was the hate that I had let-in. I know my friends and partner meant the best when they advised as they did, but I have to wonder how well they truly ever knew me, advising hatred as a cure? It goes against everything I believe; everything that makes me, me. I’m not saying it’s their fault, of course. I don’t want to “play the blame game”, here; that’s just more negativity. I’m the one who chose to change, which makes it my fault.

It was at that realisation that I decided to change back. It wasn’t going to be easy and it was going to take time, but I was determined. Yes, I wanted my partner and my friends back, but really, I was doing it for me, not them. I guess that’s a little selfish, perhaps? But we all of us need to think of ourselves sometimes; even me.

During the process of returning to who I was, the biggest challenge was exorcising the hatred. It was so utterly indented inside me, in my conscious and subconscious mind, but also in my heart, and my soul. It wasn’t “normal” hatred, either... Upon further investigation, I realised that the reason why I was so angry all-the-time and hating every one and every thing was because I had given-up on the world. I had decided that you were “evil” - because that was the only way I could muster hatred – and, inside my subconscious, I was telling myself that “if there is evil in the world, what’s the point?”

I have always, always believed in the goodness in every one, no matter what they have done. Rapists, murderers, thieves; it doesn’t matter. Everyone can be redeemed, because “there is so such thing as pure good, or pure evil” and “there aren’t bad people. Just good people that do bad things”. And in-order to hate you, I had to abandon that philosophy and decide that evil does exist... Which is what made me into a person who regularly swears, insults people, yells and snaps, etc.

I had become like all the other adults, and lost my innocence... I had to get it back!

A - rather ironic, given our history - segment from a chat
with Mark (Sutton) regarding seeing Matt on the bus

Against the wishes of my remaining friends, and family, I searched for the goodness in you. It was difficult, given what you did to me, but here’s where I ended-up: You could have raped me, let’s be honest, Matty. You had the opportunity and power to do-so, I was fragile and you were strong, you knew my weaknesses... But you held-back.

Others are horrified that you touched me without consent, and I am too, of course, but how I am pushing-through this is by knowing that you could have done much worse, but you didn’t, and the fact that – as aforementioned – I was not without blame. The “help” that you provided me for my PTSD must have been really sexually frustrating for you. That doesn’t excuse you, but it serves as an explanation, of-sorts.

Since reaching this conclusion, I have returned to being more myself again, and I am trying to not be as scared of the world, and of you... But I still reacted poorly when I saw you again a few months ago, on the bus. “Why?”, you might ask... Because it hurt, seeing you, being near you, and knowing that we were not friends; knowing that you practically hate me now and want nothing to do with me... It brought me to tears again, but no longer because of fear, but because of love...

I miss you. Every day, I miss you. People tell me I “shouldn’t”, that it’s “messed-up”, that you’ll “just hurt [me] again”, etc, etc, etc, but, once again, I am a stubborn creature, and I am not going to listen to them any more. They care for me and they do not want me to be hurt, and that is lovely, but their advise turned me into a horrible version of myself that I never want to be again, ever.

If you choose to be a part of my life again, they will have to just accept it. I don’t know if that will or even can ever happen, after all this negativity, but I hold hope for it.

Maybe we won’t be friends again, but I hope that at-the-very-least you can accept my forgiveness, forgive yourself, and forgive me, and that, if we see one-another, we can casually smile and wave and just go about our day, without the awkwardness or the sadness or the fear.

I just want us to be okay... Please consider it, Matty.

Thank you.

Attempt Number Two

The original Post, as never finished and never published, until now...
(click to enlarge)

After seven months of struggles, I had almost finished what has turned-out to be the most difficult, painful Blog post I have ever written… and now I find myself staring aimlessly at a blank page, crying uncontrollably, because I LOST IT. Months of anguish and torment, trying to tell you all how I feel and why, and it is all gone. I accidentally deleted the file(s), including the back-up, and although I tried my hardest for weeks to retrieve the data, it was corrupted and unrecognisable when I opened the files with any software I tried. I honestly thought I could not hurt any more than I already was… and then that happened…

But, I have learnt my lesson, I suppose. Normally I write my Blog posts in one or two sittings, the only exception really being the infamous ‘How Neil Gaiman Saved My Life’ which literally took me years! I am a religious person and I hold to the stance that “everything happens for a reason”, so perhaps that writing was never supposed to be read by anyone but me. Perhaps this is how things were supposed to happen. Whether you believe that or not, this is where I find myself: “square one”, and an even more emotional wreck than I was a couple-of-weeks-ago because of having lost those documents… but pushing myself to work through the pain and try again.

I should warn you, however. The following post is the result of years of pain that has accumulated, piled on-and-on, hidden deep away in the furthest parts of my mind; things that hurt very badly because I have no power over them.

It comes down to these words, that I have uttered time-and-time-again and I am struggling to push myself through… “There is no justice! I give up…”*

To regular readers, that last part will be a big shock. If you are new here, let me explain why. I am a stubbornly positive person. Life has thrown so, so much hurt at me, and I have forgiven the people involved, recovered from the hurt, and moved-on. I have been physically and sexually assaulted, kidnapped, stalked, stolen from, betrayed, etc, and yet I have always “pulled-through”, stronger-than-ever, and never losing sight of who I am; of what makes me, me… But this time it is different…

Matt (right) and me (left)
28th July 2014, Hyper Japan con

This time, I came face-to-face with an abuser, and he showed no remorse, no shame, no guilt, and he even “Blocked” me on social media platforms so that I could not speak with him. What I wanted to do was to write him a letter where I tell him that the past is in the past, and that is where it should stay; that I have forgiven him and I know that he is sorry for what he did and I am sure that he is a better person now and I hope that we can try and be civil, etc… but Blocking me on social media is the biggest “f-you” that a person can give you in today’s society, and was a big slap-in-the-face to my need for us to be okay with each-other…

Who I am talking about is Matt, the man who was my legal Carer for many months and whom I was very close with and was developing feelings for, but who betrayed that trust and friendship and love by “mildly” (as the police called it) sexually assaulting me in my own home. I reported him to the authorities, but the conclusion was that it was “his word against [mine]”, “little evidence”, that it was “probably a misunderstanding”, bla, bla, bla. As-if the experience wasn’t traumatising enough, the fact that I had no justice was even worse…

… But I moved-on with my life. It took a long, long time and a regretful suicide attempt (thank you, Neil Gaiman, for pushing me through that!), and of course the help of countless medical professionals, friends, and family, but I did get through it.

This all happened in 2014, and it was not until 2016 that I realised that I was okay again, because I saw a “On This Day” post about him and me on Facebook, and I didn’t feel sick-to-my-stomach, I didn’t feel heartbroken, I just felt normal, and that was a really great way to feel…

At the GEEKETEERS' stand at the event where I saw Matt

Fast-forward two years, however, and I see him again – in person – and I am NOT OKAY. I will not say the name of the event that I saw him at, because it is a wonderful event were it not for my seeing him. Everyone else had an incredible weekend and they were raving about it for months.

I had to go to the bathroom and cry and cry and cry for I-don’t-know-how-long, until I finally decided to wipe my tears and get-back-out-there. I could have gone home, but then he would have “won”. Not only that, but I was there attending in my professional capacity, with my Youtube Channel GEEKETEERS having a table(!), getting footage for the Channel, telling people about us, etc, so if I went home it would have been a wasted opportunity.

So, I faced my fears, and I did something completely out-of-character and utterly random… but it felt amazing…I brushed my hair and tied-it-up, put on some makeup (which I had in my bag “just-in-case”), and adjusted my clothing so that I was showing-off a-bit-of-leg and a lot of cleavage (thank you, corsets…)!(!!) I also made-a-point of wiggling my hips as much as possible to show off my backside, and I put-in my headphones on my phone, played my “Feel Good” playlist, and danced! I have no idea whether he saw any of this or not, but I really, really hope so… I wanted him to look at me and think how gorgeous I looked (several people complimented me that day) and how he can never have me…

Douglas and I at the gaming club, where I would frequently see Matt

I then saw him at this geeky club that I go to, which further “freaked-me-out” and I found myself breaking-down into tears every week on that day, whether I was going to the club or not. Worst-of-all was the fact that my medication was not working any more… I started self-medicating with alcohol, my hygiene went to shtako (I went three months without a wash after I saw him the first time…), I gained weight, and worst-of-all, I was rushed to hospital in an ambulance because I was planning on killing myself and struggling to hold-back the urges, so I called for help…

So, the Thanet Mental Health Team arranged for an assessment to see what help they could give me, and I received a letter a few weeks later that said I am absolutely fine and I do not need them. In-fact, it referred to me as being “euphoric” which is the biggest load of - …

Thank you, Thanet Mental Health team, for this utterly inaccurate, insulting letter... reeeeally helpful... (click to enlarge)

Which brings me to my next point: my swearing! Yes, you read me correctly. I swear now. Like, a lot. Sometimes I just swear “for-the-sake-of-it”, not for any particularly important reason. “Because I can”, essentially. Or, in “Illisia-terms”: “why should I bother being nice and polite and cordial any more? What’s the point?”

Because, wonderful readers, I have given-up… I am trying really, really hard to return to being me again, I promise. I am trying to be positive, but it is an uphill struggle and the climb is a long and painful one.

The worst part is that the only way that I can seem to “be myself” again in any way at all is either by staying indoors for weeks and weeks at-a-time, or going outside of Thanet (I have visited London and Birmingham, for instance). On examination of the data, I have reached the conclusion that I am subconsciously becoming a more unpleasant person when I have to be going around Thanet, because I might see him again. I need to protect myself from the pain. If have a hardened exterior, and an impenetrable interior, he – and anyone else – cannot hurt me any more.

I cannot emphasise enough how much I hate that. I do not want to change! I do not want to “protect myself” by being a different person… I like who I am. I am proud of who I am. But you have to understand that this isn’t intentional. We cannot help what our subconscious mind does to protect us… And, currently, my only “cure” for this change is to stay inside my home forever… … … Or to move out of Thanet…

Then there is option number three. Herein lies my greatest hope… I need to talk to him, somehow, and I need him to be remorseful…

I have always, always believed the best in every person, no matter what they have done to me, or to any one else. “There is good in everyone” is a big part of who I am… But this particular person, he has shattered that belief, he has torn a part of me from me, and I am utterly desperate to get it back. I can no longer see the good in everyone, because he has made no effort to show the good in him, he has shown no regret, no remorse, no guilt… and that makes me feel like he is a bad person… Something that I have always believed did not exist…

Readers, I honestly do not know what to do… What happens next, where I go from here will decide so much…. For good or ill…

Matt, if you are reading this, please reach-out to me… Show me the good in you that I hope and pray still exists… Please fix the damage you caused, once-and-for-all, and help restore my faith in humanity.

I do not want to move-away from Thanet, nor do I want to spend the rest of my life inside these restrictive doors…

I do not know what else to say, really…

*It is at this point that I stopped writing, and then there was a two-month hiatus before I started writing again, which is when I wrote the rest.

Conclusion

So, dear readers, if you are a friend of Matt (Osbourne), please ask him to read this post. Tell him that I forgive him, and that I am sorry for my actions, also. I don't know whether he will read this, or whether he will contact me, but I hope so.

More details about 2018 and why it was the worst year of my life to follow in further posts... Not just because of Matt, but because of other, rather serious reasons, too. Matt was just one factor.