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zabuivayuvseivsyo · 1 year ago

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here is a letter from 24 year old emmy to 19 year old emmy:

you wrote this when you were living in st. petersburg. you didn't realize this then but you were actually experiencing your first (and one of your only) manic episodes. you didn't realize how impulsive and sometimes stupid you were being. you become the things you wanted to become, mostly.

but bro. you're kinda selfish now and you should be more. you do care more than most and that's okay. you do care authentically but you try to give only to people that deserve it. you're the most unapologetically yourself you have ever been in your entire life. you're not that awkward anymore, or shy. you're learning how to embrace yourself and you flaunt yourself in many ways. especially in how you express yourself. people are not just comfortable not around you but trust you, and because that they can open up to you. you still wanna kiss your friends cheeks but you also don't because kissing juni's cheeks is good enough for you.

oh, juni. you don't know who juni is yet. you're still agonizing about that kid who you haven't been bothered by for years now. you have a girlfriend now. she is everything you ever wanted. she's kind of why you're writing this right now. you just finished writing a letter to your parents (they completely fucked you over by the way) and she held your hands and asked you what you what you would say to yourself at this age. you both cried. you know how you always wanted to feel comfort from someone, to nurture something with someone, someone to truly understand you? well juni literally knows what's happening with you before you even do. you have never and will never feel comfort like the comfort you do with juni. you adore juni. you THINK you have adored people before but trust me. you adore her. you live with her in oakland. you have your own place. she also makes music you automatically loved before you were even dating (she also was your friend for a bit before YOU developed a crush on her isn't that crazy to imagine) AAAAND she has extremely good taste. and fashion. she's also hot.

anyways,

you are still someone who feels strongly, when you're not dissociating lol . you have always been someone who doesn’t care what the world has to say about them. only people that are important to you. thank god at this time you decide to stop faking christianity and deciding to leave church. you were never a fucking christian STOOPIDDD. i know you said you wanted to just ghost everyone and disappear and you do, but you also end up getting ghosted by certain people you thought were close to you. like faith (eek sorry that one will probably hurt). you are naturally energetic, when you're not dissociating lol. you're definitely out there, because you're fucking weird. you literally get artistic during these months but also you always were kinda good at art. you have always been an extrovert but you also like being alone. you end up jumping around A LOT like you literally end up hopping around when you're excited or happy. you're not going to be a passive mother because you WILL NEVER BE A MOTHER. not letting your children talk over you is a sad thing to say to yourself. you don't even realize you're gaslighting yourself by saying this. you thought about crying with your mom today because you thought she was the only one you felt comfortable enough doing that with but that's what a trauma bond is.

things you did when you got home:

not break a mirror (you did try, though)

you handed shirley your letter and all you said was "read this". you also just wrote mom and dad a similar letter and texted it to them (they completely fucked you over by the way)

you gave maile the nikes and the funny windbreaker (mom just gave it away) , you probably end up writing them a card too. they are still your best friend by the way

в питере you:

developed your film and now they're on a separate instagram account that people that like you follow

you went to pushkin with egor, who you still talk to once in a while

i don't know if you went back to erarta but you remember it. you end up keeping in touch with lera for a couple years after you come home

fuck nails and fuck lashes

actually i take that back nails are fun sometimes

you probably end up getting these things for these people and you get pretty damn good at giving gifts sometimes. also you just saw esther and james recently. also faith and jared both suck lol.

it's always funny re-remembering things i remembered before but forgot about again.

you're getting there, emmy i can feel it

and i'm here for you now

love, greyson (you'll see)

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transcribed from my journal

How I want to be remembered if I die:

I want to be remembered as someone selfless. who cared more than most. who cared authentically and gave solely to give. i want to be remembered as someone unapologetically themself. someone who knew they were awkward and shy sometimes but embraced and flaunted it. I want to be remembered as someone comfortable to be around, someone you could open up to. someone who could kiss your cheek without feeling discomfort. someone tasteful and polite and pleasant, but someone weird and eccentric and hard to understand. someone honest, and vulnerable. someone who felt strongly . someone who doesn’t care about what the world has to say about them. I can’t be a fucking Christian anymore. I just want to ghost everyone and disappear. i want to be more energetic, more out there, more artistic, more fun. I wish I was an extrocert and could jump around and be fun. I do not want to be a passive mother. I will not let m y children talk over me. I thought about crying with my mom today. Things to do when you get home: break a mirror. Confront Shirley. give maile her birthday FUCKFUCKFUCK I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT HER FUCKING CARD. Give her the reeboks and the jacket and the Kanken. Back in Peter make sure to develop your film, visit Pushkin, erarta, hermitage, and do your nails and lashes the week you gotta go. Bring Chocolates home for the fam. I’m not good at gifts. Beret for nef, hat for james, esther faith jared and maybe shirt courtney rachel friend Godwin and friends on facebook, and Pasha too. Troy russia socks I just remembered when I dropped mom’s camera over the rail

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zabuivayuvseivsyo · 1 year ago

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Holy shit I just write and think the same things over and over and over and over

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zabuivayuvseivsyo · 1 year ago

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i used to live here

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zabuivayuvseivsyo · 1 year ago

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Happy birthday maile

, I was never smiling, I had a scared/confused/blank face most of the time, if I ever smile it was momentary, they recorded me all by myself struggling with whatever I was doing, crying for mom , and they talk to me like a literal dog, “stay”, and the videos always cut right before I start crying a lot

On my 100th bday

“How’s her sleep schedule”

“Perfect she sleeps from 10 pm to 7 every day”

“She sleeps straight?”

“Yup”

They talked to me like a dog, made scolding noises like you would to an animal, I didn’t seem to like my dad and wanted my mom but my mom seems so disconnected from me when she holds me, and there’s barely videos of her holding me

I kept crawling to her while she was recording at age 1 when I was supposed to be reciting letters my dad showed me and she said “move back I can’t get you [on the camera/video]” and my dad raises his voice when I didn’t know a letter . I was 1

I hated that camera, they took videos up until maybe 3rd grade , it was a barrier between me and my parents, and it was a fake connection that made fake memories

It all comes together like this

I can't deny it any more

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zabuivayuvseivsyo · 1 year ago

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my head isn't clear but my body is empty

cycles and cycles and i'm afraid of the scariest part, i'm afraid of how much i loved dad, i'm afraid of how much he loved me, i'm afraid of so many parts of him that i loved,

it's almost easy to think about my mom. it's easy to be angry because i was upset at her for my entire life, even though i loved her and wanted her to like me. but my brain and my body stops when i start to think of my dad

i only remember the gross times

i'm horrified that i can't remember the worst of it

i'm horrified that it happened when i couldn't process or remember it

but that somehow my body and psyche did

i'm very

fucking

frightened

everything that i liked was what he liked. everything we watched together we would notice the same things. mom would get upset when we would watch movies together because they "weren't appropriate"

i don't remember what we watched together, i know i saw violence a lot. he showed me the matrix when i was really little. and other "mature movies" but i don't remember anything sexual or explicit. i remember my parents putting their hands over my eyes and my face whenever a sensual seen came on. and i remember getting angry and pushing their hands away because i was "old enough" and i "knew what was happening"

in my journal i wrote that i watched tenchi that day and that i couldn't watch it anymore because it wasn't appropriate. but i remember watching tenchi a lot for some reason and i don't remember anything about it but i do remember images and one was of a death scene that rattled me and feeling uncomfortable with the ecchi before i even knew what that was

a few years later i was watching intensely violent gore videos and reading about horrible kidnapping cases, rape , homicide . i know why now, at least kind of

what happened to me

what happene d to me

it couldn't have just been my mom

i can't even start thinking

we would talk for hours and hours about movies but he was never interested in my personal life . i couldn't tell him anything about my personal life because he didn't care and because "he was a boy" and only mom knew about my life because she was a girl and because i was a girl and because i felt guilty if i didn't tell her every single detail and i felt guilty because of the things i did and never told her about because i knew i couldn't tell her. perpetual guilt perpetual shame

every morning when dad would drop me off to school in middle school we never said anything to each other.

this was the time he stopped giving me hugs and kisses, or so my journal says. maile still got hugs and kisses but i didn't because "i was too old". i remember him telling a friend "it's not like i'm going to put sunscreen on her back when she's like 16, because that's [weird/creepy/too much]" ???

but at some point he did start hugging and kissing me a lot again. i don't remember when. but now when we're all together as a family he touches me a lot,

his regular talk to my partners "i was the only man for most of her life so i'm very protective...."

what happened to me

what's happening even now

he doesn't have any friends his age, he was always a "teacher/mentor/friend" to the college kids at church, boys and girls,

holy FUCK ALL THE CREEPY BEHAVIOR THAT I REFUSED TO BELIEVE WAS CREEPY BUT WAS STILL CREEPY OH GOD

i can't think about this

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zabuivayuvseivsyo · 1 year ago

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dear emmy,

i read all your words, from elementary school to high school . maybe you can try finding your first journal, the yellow and pink and orange one

you tried to hide so much, but you were still you. you felt so much guilt and self hatred and grief and you always felt like you liked people more than they liked you. even if that was true, now i know why, and it wasn't because you're unlikable.

rachel just called you, rachel who you adore so much and who you love so much. she adores and loves you just as much and you finally cried in front of her

i will write more to you soon

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zabuivayuvseivsyo · 1 year ago

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what if i am stuck in the same cycle forever, what if i start getting triggered even more, what if i truly crack and break and can't pick up the pieces

now is the time to not give up, to keep pushing, to try

try to what

what am i doing

why can't i understand anything anymore

what happened to me

is that why i forgot 8th grade

just because mom kept yelling at me

was it really that bad

dirty, rotten,

no i'm not

it wasn't my fault

shut up, shut up shut up shut up shut upshutup

i don't know about her life

i don't know her

i never did

why didn't dad say anything

why doesn't dad say anything now, when she is mean

why am i the only one mediating

why am i the only one trying to make everything better

i'm hurt too,

i want to be comforted for real, not just cold words

i don't care if they were the right words, i don't care if you're changing

i want to be little

i want to go back to being little before mom got mean to me i want to go back to being little before i started feeling dirty

i don't know what happened to me

i hated girly things and girly girls and girls so much but they never did anything to me, why

why did i want to be dad so much

why did mom stop controlling me as soon as i left home, what was the point then, was it really because you loved me, did you ever love me, why do you laugh with me and take care of me

i never liked verbal affirmation, i never liked being told that you're proud of me, i never liked you telling me that i was pretty

because deep down i knew it wasn't me you felt all these things about

how could you love me, when everything else you said and did told me that i would never be good enough, that i was a bad child, that i had to do things i never wanted to do and that i was uncomfortable with, that i was pathetic for feeling, that i was pathetic for letting people hurt me when they don't care about me

i wonder why i did that, i wonder who taught me what love looked like

love to me was caring for them, never leaving them, forgiving them, and being hopelessly attached to them, especially when they hurt me

especially when i never truly felt love for them

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zabuivayuvseivsyo · 1 year ago

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did they know what they did

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did they know what they did

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did they know what they did

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did they know what they did

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zabuivayuvseivsyo · 1 year ago

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letters to myself first before i deep dive into my childhood journals

mom always said to write positive things, not just the negative things

lol fuck that

to infant emmy: i'm not sure what to say to you. i remember the story of dad crying when the eczema on my cheeks cleared up and i was smiling for the first time. i wonder how mom and dad dealt with your eczema as a baby, besides just putting socks on your hands so you wouldn't scratch

to toddler emmy: you must have been scared. you must have felt abandoned in the crib and in that room and at the foot of the door. someone should have come to you while you cried instead of waiting outside, listening for when you would stop so you could go back into the crib. you were so friendly to people, even at that age, maybe because you wanted connection and you looked every chance you got

to 4 year old emmy: this must have been when you became "fascinated" with evil men taking advantage of girls. in hawaii on the floor downstairs you drew a girl on train tracks with an evil man standing behind, smiling and waiting. you drew a girl trapped in a clear glass tank with an evil man, still smiling and waiting. you crumpled up or hid those drawings because you knew it was wrong. what happened to you,

to kindergarten emmy: you vowed this year to be a boy, you vowed this year to be bored, upset, over it. you didn't get why you weren't white, or blonde like everyone else. you had to recite "the cat in the hat" and you vowed to do it as deadpan as you could because it was so childish. you wanted to wear black that day and i think all you had was a dark blue long sleeve. why did you feel that way when you were a child? you were excited to learn "algebra" in the dark classroom because it was for older kids. 5 - x = 3. it's 2. you felt older than everyone. it's not your fault, you're not dirty. you didn't know what masturbation was but you felt like you were the only person in the world that it happened to. you felt alone and dirty. if something bad happened you don't have to remember, i will for you eventually, and when i do, i will take care of you, i will hold you, and it will be okay. i don't remember anything from home.

to 1st grade emmy: you were so mortified when mom took you late to your first day of first grade. you were so mortified when mom made you wear something you hated for the mother's day performance and you had to hold your teacher's hand at the very back of the line because you were crying. your face stayed straight and sad that entire performance. you hated how your mom dressed you and you grew up to "like it eventually". i'm sorry, you must have tried to speak up for yourself and you must have been told no, that you had to. no one's making you do something you don't want to anymore. you were proud to be avery johnson's best friend. i don't remember anything from home.

[somewhere around here you get caught because you forgot to clear your browsing history one time, you had been lying for a long time already. "why were you looking at that? were you just curious?" i remember them being surprisingly nice about it. i remember intense shame and horror. but i don't remember anything else]

to 2nd grade emmy: i wonder why you felt like this was the best year of your life, you do have good memories although you were always losing recess for talking too much. rachel kosic's house - it was always messy and you always had fun there. mrs. patricia rowe - alliteration, benjamin's mom, st. patricks day treats. you believed in fairies at this time and you would look for them in the grass. chris saiki was nice to you and you would play star wars. you prayed to god to make you a jedi knight. it was probably because dad showed you star wars. by this time you loved fishing too, but did you? or did you just want to be like dad even more? was this when you got made fun of for a lie mom told you - that eating dry ramen would give you words in your stomach? you were feeling so embarrassed when they made fun of you. blonde girls, one grade older. but you met courtney this year. the first day she came to church she colored her nails with markers. you thought that was amazing. it was in the classroom in the small building at church, the first classroom when you walk in. i wonder what that building looks like now, or if it's even still there. shinu's dad was our sunday school teacher then. that's funny now, and really sad. i don't remember anything from home, except for praying to my ceiling for powers and a lightsaber.

to 3rd grade emmy: this was the year auntie keeae died. you cried in mom's arms even though you didn't know her. i'm sure it was because you felt sad for her, that she lost her big sister. at some lunch you gave some kid an anonymous note and you watched him rip it up and laugh. he had curly brown hair. this was also the year you became friends with emily weerheim. this was the year mom called you pathetic for crying when she broke up with you on fantage or club penguin or something else for "leaving her while she was crying". you found the "everyone hates emmy book" in that room, with the boxes, it was bright and daytime. you never spoke about it to anyone until you grew up. i'm sorry you felt like you had no one to tell, i'm sorry you felt shame for something that was unfair to you, i'm sorry that this was your first memorable "abusive" relationship. her mother cried and said she didn't know what was wrong with her child, but that was later. she always embarrassed you, she was always mean to you, she made you scratch her arms when they were itchy even though you felt weird doing that. you found her so odd for dating boys. trace tempesta. the only memory you had from home (maybe it wasn't even this year) was the red couch, sobbing, sobbing so loud and mom came. she put medicine and cold paper towels on your neck. all of your skin was raw. she held you and blew on your neck until you feel asleep. this was when you started feeling very ugly, especially your haircut and your teeth. you were not ugly, just a little awkward and gangly. mom made you wear more stuff you didn't like, but only on the days we would get student awards. they were supposed to be surprises during assemblies but you always knew you were getting one. because mom dressed you up and because you hated it

to 4th grade emmy: you liked mrs. taylor. i remember you writing your entire essay with a synonym finder so that you could sound smarter. i wonder why you did that. it's silly to look back on now, you used words you never heard before. the classroom was darker, a trailer, the last one on the field. "don't you feel bad?" when we learned about world war 2. i don't think you said anything. when the boys were using trees and trucks as an innuendo for sex, and a group of the girls told on them. by now you were always the last kid to be picked up from school. that day it was just you and brock hampton left. he asked me why you told on them. you shrugged and said "don't know". i don't know where maile ever was, i only remember me sitting out on the concrete bench waiting and waiting for mom. you became friends with ilah berry, another tomboy, and you both got suspended for sticking up for emily when alex made her cry. "i'm going to beat your ass" "yeah she's going to beat your ass" - you even apologized to alex that day, his brother was the one who told on us. you cried so hard in mr. devich's office, you sobbed all the way home, you sat in bed sobbing and mom and dad were not happy with you (even though later you found out that mr. devich said you were a good kid, and that you weren't actually in trouble). this was when you and maile shared a bed. you started hating yourself for being ugly, especially when dad was taking pictures of you and courtney at mission bay and he told you to look more natural, like courtney. of course you didn't look natural, you were so insecure already, you were so sad already, you hated being in front of the camera. your hair was long and you were positive you were gross. a lot of friends came and went around this time, a lot of girls that never meant anything. you must have been confused,

to 5th grade emmy: megan becomes your new best friend. you liked her a lot. you thought it was cool that she could penny board all by herself to your house. you liked how she wore snapbacks. you made the best cookies of your life with her. her mom would call you "immy" with her south african accent. i remember the stairs up to megan's room, blurry images of her room. megan's brother matthew was frightening and terrible. you forced megan to watch lawrence of arabia, because dad liked that movie or dad showed it to you. that movie is almost four hours long, emmy. you are silly. you wanted to be mature for your age. that might be sad but it's also cute. emily fiasco this year, i was jaded by then, i remember telling her we weren't allowed to be friends anymore in mrs. simpson's library (i remember exactly where the bone books were) and not really caring anymore. mr. southerland was nice, we played the keyboard in his classroom, he told the boys that they couldn't say the word faggot and our class that it was time to start wearing deodorant. you read books a lot, you liked maybird. it was melancholy. you started using that word a lot. by now you took on sadness as your primary emotion. jeyla aranjo was your friend but she also annoyed you, she was an overachiever and she cried whenever she got a 5-. she seemed spoiled to you. she ended up going to stanford (and i'm pretty sure she started a year early). you see her in adulthood once. some of your "friends" weren't really your friends, like megan bomgardner who ditches you a year later as soon as you introduce her to julia hayashi, who was also your friend first. you didn't know how to be wary then, you wanted to love and get hurt anyways instead of never loving at all. you tried being "girly" this year and you felt uncomfortable in your skin. don't force yourself to be anything you don't feel comfortable being anymore. it's okay to be emmy - you don't look ugly in that picture from promotion. that dress was nice and you liked it. it had a lot of colors.

to 6th grade emmy: except for when your phone got taken away and waiting for an hour in the cold for school to start, this was a good year at school for you. good job for making friends. you meet a lot of new people. you are kind of mean, but in a sarcastic, deadpan way. especially on facebook. you didn't try on purpose this time. you flipped nef off and the mr. ecker asked you "aren't you dishonoring your family by doing that?" straight to my face. i found that fucking annoying and ridiculous. you actually have a lot of memories from sixth grade. you loved ms. hall. i still do, too. on the last day of school you and your friends walked by yourselves all the way to baskin robbins. you got an ipod touch at some point and now you can look at your pictures from then anytime you want. you got rich on tinierme and met daryl, your first "boyfriend". you thought you were feeling love for the first time in your life, you were so happy but you also knew it was bad. you didn't tell anyone. at all, until you became an adult. it lasted for at least a year and a half altogether. you talked about running into each other so much. that was dangerous. thank god you were too scared to meet him in person. he talked about taking you in the bathroom at tea n more. thank god it never happened. you felt heartbreak for the first time "i don't love you anymore" - you never loved him either, if i ever find him i will kill him, he's a sick fuck

to 7th grade emmy: you have memories here too, but less. you adore kenny and kevin and antoine and minh despite them all being annoying. you especially adore kenny. kenny is still your friend but now he's closer to maile. i'll tell you why when you get older. kenny liked you a lot and you were embarrassed. you really like kpop now, even more than in 6th grade. you also have an online friend group but that never amounted to anything. i think you dated jason won online this year, he was a grade older and he was in that facebook group. he went to exeter academy. he cheated on you and you experienced heartbreak for a second time - for some reason you meet him in person on your way home from russia, because you had a layover in new york. probably because you were manic and insane at this time. he was cringe and you never spoke again. one of your saddest memories happened this year. carlsbad outlet, mom not saying anything to you despite pleading and sobbing and being too scared to touch her, her back was turned into the bed. i don't remember anything else from home.

to 8th grade emmy: i don't remember anything from this year. i don't remember graduation, i don't remember anything. i don't remember any teachers i had. except for ms. hall. i can't remember and i don't know why - i don't even remember what church was like. in fact i don't have a lot of memories from church at all in elementary and middle school, besides being so frightened and hating youth group at first.

oh wait church memories are coming back. 5th grade retreat, 6th grade bringing karen to church and everyone in the room was crying and i wanted karen to believe in god too. courtney and i in the guest room bed having a "profound" god conversation. seeing elly play keyboard. but none from 8th grade for some reason. i met faith around that time. i think that friendship was hard from the beginning.

high school next time, i want to let myself rest . and now i can read my journal

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