I should have known since childhood

Realizing my worth after the event that made me feel the most worthless

After the most humiliating season of my life, I had absolutely no idea how to cope.

There is truly no way I could have felt more exposed, mocked, embarrassed, or ashamed than I did after what I refer to as my hacking incident. My private life had somehow become public entertainment. Personal details appeared to be circulating. People made strangely specific comments about things I had recently said or did privately.

Even information about my medical history seemed to be somewhere it never should have been.

Whether every suspicion I had at the time was correct or not – the fear, confusion, humiliation, paranoia, and isolation I experienced were very real. I was already struggling with functional depression and bipolar disorder, and the stress pushed me closer to the edge than I care to admit.

I did not know how to process it.

So I started drinking.

Not socially. Not occasionally. I was drinking, sometimes even starting by 8 am, to dull the pain and quiet my mind. It’s strange because only now do I look back on the crooked coping mechanism of coping that broken people use to cope, knowing I did that to numb feelings, yet when outside all alone at night, when the music is off and it was just me, my thoughts, and a cloud of cigarette smoke dispersed in the air, that was when my feelings were magnified the most. I wanted someone to understand what I was seeing from my perspective or someone to help. I stood there all alone wanting to scream – but only tears came out. I felt completely unseen while simultaneously feeling watched by everyone.

If that makes sense, maybe you could understand exactly how terrifying that kind of experience and isolation that could become.

The High School Sweetheart I Should Have Left in High School

In 2023, I ran int my high school sweetheart. At the time, he was sober and actually worked as a peer support specialist for awhile helping others with their addictions. We started dating again, and for a while, everything seemed wonderful. I did love him, and I’m sure that the ol’ saying of ‘you never forget your first love,’ played a role in that. I probably would have married him the next day if he had asked me.

But let me pause here to offer some free advice:

⚠ WARNING!!

DON’T MAKE THE MISTAKE I DID.

DON’T EVER GO BACK TO YOUR EX!

One of the main reasons I wanted the relationship to work was because I loved his family so much, and his mother and I had even shared a birthday. Naturally, I wanted to be included in that warm, supporting, and loving family. I even still keep in touch with them to this day, and that won’t change. While we were together, we did have family dinners, went to church, out to eat, and celebrated Christmas together and it was amazing. Looking back, I think he used his family as a tool to possibly keep me around because he knew how much I loved them.

Then, around Christmas, he relapsed.

For the next two months, I watched him drink and turn into a monster, with the most atrotious things coming out of his mouth. After feeling helpless and irritated about the situation, I poured myself a glass too, and picked up a pack of cigarettes. Why not? If you can’t beat em, join em right? No. That was a terrible decision.

Before that, I had been sober for about eight years. It was not because I had officially declared myself sober or followed a recovery program. I just thought I had gotten all the partying out of my system when I was younger.

Apparently, I had not. But this wasn’t the fun type of partying; having friends around to jam to some music and play euchre and laugh all night with like I did in my younger years. No, this was drinking to deal with the empty pit in my stomach from stress and arguing. It was a very unhealthy way to escape and cope. I honestly have no reason why I didn’t leave sooner. I know it was not smart of me to stay, but looking back maybe I thought a little piece of me hoped he would get help and we’d be on Cloud 9 again like we were for the first six months.

I had already seen him sober and seemingly in control, so I kept believing he would eventually get help again. I thought the person I had reconnected with would return.

Instead, the drinking brought drama, chaos, unhealthy people, and constant stress into my life.

That was the exact opposite of what I wanted and deserved. It is sad to admit now, but I take care of myself more when someone loves me. That probably sounds dumb, but I have sunk so low in my depression before that I quit taking care of myself, and maybe I was more afraid of that. Yeah, that is sad to admit. But, it’s true. But whatever that situation was called, it was not love.

When Being Loved Became Evidence That I Mattered

Like I said, I took better care of myself when I am in a relationship. My hygiene is better. I keep the house cleaner. I make more of an effort with my appearance. I am more consistent with self-care. And it’s sick that I am only realizing this now; that I was doing those things because someone else loved me. Not me loving me.

Why should another person’s affection determine whether I believe I am worth caring for? Maybe I was afraid to be alone again. Maybe I thought having a relationship meant I was valuable, chosen, or safe. Maybe I had spent so many years starving for acceptance that I was willing to survive on crumbs and call it a meal.

After the relationship deteriorated and the humiliating events surrounding my phone, accounts, workplace, and online life intensified, I felt even worse about myself.

That is when the drinking became much more serious.

Feeling Watched, Mocked, and Completely Alone

At the time, it seemed as though the entirety of the internet was mocking me.

I know how dramatic that sounds.

But when you are already mentally and emotionally hanging on by a thread, repeated comments, private questions from co-workers wanting to get a little too much information on you, online app and account problems, keeping up with new numbers, learning new phones, changing passwords and the complete pain in the ass it all is, and people behaving differently toward you can make the entire world feel unsafe. I knew my intuition was telling me something. That I wasn’t as crazy as I thought. I was even having dreams of all of the lights on in my house, and the blinds open and it was dark out and people could see inside. That alone says someting.

I contacted the police about what I believed was happening. I explained the account issues, unusual changes I had noticed, unfamiliar locations appearing in my map history, and other things that concerned me. I had tons of evidence, dates, and screenshots.

I was told there were not enough “man-hours” to investigate it. And there goes the hope for anyone who has ever been hacked!

What made the experience worse was being laughed at. Literally the police station. When I called and told them, I heard multiple voices laughing out loud at me. So much for serve and protect. I told the internet crime database. No one ever got in trouble as far as I know.

But leave it to the internet sleuths of America! Customers started coming into my job making sarcastic remarks, moreso observing rather than just there to pick up a prescription, asking where they knew me from and saying things like, “You’re a star.”

Simultaneously I was being cornered at work by the biggest group of adult bullies I’d ever met in my life. I was mocked online. I was targeted by people connected to someone who had already been running a smear campaign against me. I felt as though I could not trust my phone, my accounts, my coworkers, or my own environment. Meaning: I quit my job. Took off. I could no longer be a pin cusion while my mental health quickly deteriorated, all the while my co-workers were using triagulation and asking personal questions in front of everyone that hit me in the heart and nerves and they knew it. I know they think I am dumb as rocks, but I clocked every. single. passive aggressive comment. Of course it was weird as hell they were inviting me places when I knew these people hated my guts. Why be so damn fake? Get real. Why? To act to the new guy that we were more family oriented than the shit show it actually was? I think it was just a big game to everyone there and I was the last to know about it.

The full details of this scheme, plot for my downfall and ruin between the hacking and work drama deserves its own story, or better yet; it would have made an Academy Award Winning Thriller, Mystery and Suspense all in one film!

After switching phone numbers, phones, emails, and passwords multiple times, I still couldn’t get rid of it. I spent hours trying to recover accounts and understand unfamiliar devices and settings while still attempting to keep my composure, not let my mental health dip too low, maintain a household, work, run errands, and function like a normal human being. Whatever “normal” means anyway. And I was quickly losing it.

I was battling functional depression. You know, the kind where you were the same clothes all weekend and can’t get out of bed but show up to work on Monday after a fresh shower and a smile on acting like I was holding it together.

I was clearly experiencing symptoms of mania. Being a narcoleptic, as I have said before I was told if someone goes three days with no sleep that is how I feel when I wake up. That is the starting point. So, I already feel like I am walking through wet cement. They sent me home from work before because I was so exhausted I could not function. I was trying new sleep meds at the time which were not working at all and had gone days without sleep. I was more than exhausted, frightened, irritated, paranoid, angry, sad, hopeless and embarrassed. I truly feel like no one cared. With my circle so small, I was just called crazy and paranoid.

It is honestly a miracle that I did not descend into full psychosis or get hurt with all those eyes and ears on me. I may have been in unstable mental states, but I would never harm anyone and I just can’t say the same for others out there in the scary and sick society we live in today. Thank you my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!

Invisible Illness Does Not Mean Imaginary Pain

One of the questions that still bothers me is this:

Would people have treated me the same way if my illnesses had been visible? Would they have laughed had I been sitting in a wheelchair? Would they have mocked me if I had been wearing a scarf over my head while battling cancer?

I appear “normal,” but I live with several serious health conditions. Some affect my physical body. Some affect my energy. Some affect my ability to function and sleep. Some affect my mind.

Invisible illnesses are still illnesses.

Mental illness does not make someone less human, less intelligent, less deserving of dignity, or more deserving of ridicule.

I permanently lost a piece of my faith in humanity during that season.

I Was Drinking Myself to Death

I started purchasing the largest containers of vodka because I did not want it to look like I was going to the liquor store every day.

That sentence alone tells you everything you need to know.

I was not drinking because I was having fun. I was drinking because I did not know how else to cope. I wanted to numb the humiliation. I wanted to stop replaying conversations. I wanted to stop wondering who knew what. I wanted to stop feeling misunderstood. I wanted to stop thinking about my reputation, my health, my relationships, and all the ways my life seemed to have collapsed into one big pile of shit – with no light at the end of any forseeable tunnel.

Then I had the dream from God.

The Dream That Woke Me Up

In a dream, I was an alcoholic who had destroyed her body. My skin was yellow and jaundiced. My face was so badly swollen that one of my eyes was almost completely shut. I remember looking at myself in the rearview mirror of a car. I did not recognize the woman staring back at me. But I knew she was me. I knew I had ruined my life.

The dream jolted something awake inside me. I believe God was warning me, but I also believe He was reminding me that He loved me.

It was as though He was saying: “You do not see your worth right now, so I need you to see yourself through My eyes.”

Because we really can be our own worst enemies. I had spent so much time feeling attacked, exposed, rejected, embarrassed, and discarded that I had joined the people hurting me.

I had started beating up God’s creation…myself! If God, the Creator of the Universe, thought purpose when He formed me with love and care, I finally looked inward and asked myself why am I robbing the life of His creation? I really had to do a lot of refection on that one.

The Screenshots

In the fall of that year, a few amazing things happened. I was in my garage one morning smoking a cigarette with the door only open less than a foot, and a white bird feather flew in and landed softly in my hand.

I texted the radio station on a whim, (don’t ask- I do impulsive shit), introduced myself and said I caught a feather in my hand and I said ‘touched by an angel this morning?’ and asked them to play “She talks to Angels” by the Black Crows.

It was early morning and a male DJ’s timeslot, but the 10:00AM girl gets on the microphone and says, “I just want to say I love you.”

I have no idea if she was talking to me. But I took it as a sign and I was so so so hopeless at that point, and that was THE piece of hope I needed to hear to keep pushing!

At that time, I strongly believed people knew who I was, although I did not know exactly what they knew or where the information had come from. Soon after, I felt more comfortable to text them again. My willy nilly self texted the male host for subtle advice. He got on his normal spiel and at the end says, “When it comes to you, well there’s screenshots,” and the next song he played was “Photograph” by Def Leppard. Bingo.

I assumed that was his way of warning me that unfavorable photographs or screenshots were circulating. But strangely, that was not what bothered me most.

Turn your own camera on for an entire day and allow strangers to select the worst possible moments. I am willing to bet most people would be appalled by all of their images of themselves too. That is not a moral failure. There’s actors who don’t even watch their actual films because they don’t like seeing themselves on a screen! And we are talking people with clothes on, in their best moments, prepared, script memorized, scene, outfit and lighting top notch!

At one point, I remember yelling my phone number out loud, thinking that if something truly enormous was happening, surely somebody—one person out of hundreds, dare I say thousands—would call and tell me.

Nobody called.

That taught me something even more disturbing and it was the fact that whoever was behind the hacking probably edited that out, deleted, or manipulated it. So, in my mind –anything out there that was circulating could have been manipulated. With AI these days, how do you really know anyway? That is a scary thought.

I Refused to Become the Town Drunk

After hearing about the screenshots, I remember thinking:

What does everyone expect me to do now? Become the town drunk?

Was I supposed to spend the rest of my life drinking while people drove by and saying: “Yep. We knew that was where she would end up. We saw it coming from a mile away.”

No. I refused to accept that ending. I know what kind of character I have. I also take responsibility for the mistakes I made. I ignored warning signs. I allowed people to cross boundaries. I trusted people I should not have trusted. I stayed in situations long after they became unhealthy. But it was also a complete system failure. Every system of checks and balances in the government failed to protect me. And I am disgusted that it went on as long as it did. I didn’t have the money to fix it. I didn’t know what else to do. So eventually, I threw electrical tape over my cameras and started singing and dancing all night and making crude jokes as if it were a big ‘F-U’ to any and everybody sticking their nose in my business. But I still was uncertain whether it was real or I was losing my mind.

Trusting someone with a phone PIN because I had nothing to hide did not mean I deserved to be obscurely violated. Giving someone another chance did not mean I deserved chaos. The total systemic failure to serve and protect and to allow me back my God given freedoms, privacy and constitutional rights was a complete failure. Struggling with mental illness did not mean I deserved ridicule. Drinking to cope was my responsibility. Other people’s cruelty was theirs.

All of those truths can exist at the same time.

Sometimes Things Happen to You

I believe in accountability, but I no longer believe that healing requires blaming yourself for absolutely everything.

Sometimes your decisions contribute to a situation. Sometimes you ignore red flags. Sometimes you fail to protect your boundaries. And sometimes terrible things simply happen to you.

I do not know that I could have completely changed what happened at work through my own actions. I was clearly experiencing a well-documented mental-health episode, and I was functioning under an enormous amount of pressure.

But I do know this:

If I had known my worth, I would never have given certain people another chance. I would not have confused familiarity with safety. I would not have mistaken being chosen for being loved well. I would not have accepted chaos simply because I was afraid of being alone.

Learning My Worth at 39 years old

I cannot believe it took me this long to begin understanding my worth. But better late than never. I am still learning. I am still rebuilding.

I am still figuring out how to take care of myself because I matter, not because someone else is present to validate me.

Most importantly, I now understand the love of God in a way I never did before. Nothing compares to it. People may misunderstand you. They may mock you, reject you, gossip about you, or reduce your entire life to your worst season.

God does not. He sees the complete story. He knows what happened to you, what you chose, what you regret, what you survived, and what you are still becoming. As long as there is breath in my lungs, I believe I am here for a greater purpose. Even the ugliest chapters have taught me something. It gives me a sense of peace knowing God is sitting on His throne knowing the end from the beginnning, and nothing surprises Him. So, whatever happens in my life, I surrender to Him and His will.

What I Wish I Had Known as a Girl

Growing up, I do not remember my family regularly telling one another, “I love you.” That changed after my brother died, when I was almost 19. But before that, I did not always feel rooted in affection or encouraged to simply be myself. I was the only girl with two brothers, so the majority usually won. I often felt like the odd one out, even inside my own family.

I sometimes wonder how different my life might have been if I had understood my value as a young girl.

Would I have chosen differently? Would I have walked away sooner? Would I have been less desperate to belong to a group of friends? Would I have recognized love that required me to abandon myself?

I cannot go back and answer those questions. But I can move forward differently.

And I can say this to every parent, grandparent, teacher, mentor, aunt, uncle, coach, pastor, and trusted adult:

Teach children their value.

Teach girls and boys that they themselves are worthy of care before anyone chooses them romantically. Teach them that loneliness is not a reason to accept mistreatment. Teach them that attention is not always love. Teach them that familiar does not always mean safe. Teach them that they do not have to starve for affection and then accept any scrap thrown in their direction because they believe it may be the best they will ever receive.

Most importantly, teach them who they are in God’s eyes.

Teach them that they were created intentionally.

Teach them that their value does not disappear when they fail. Teach them that they are worthy of boundaries, dignity, safety, truth, and healthy love. Teach them never to settle for something that requires them to betray themselves.

Nobody should live believing crumbs are a feast. I did for far too long, and that has probably been the most valuable lesson I have ever learned was to see my value as God sees me, and to never settle for less than what you truly deserve.

That’s real growth.