Many people thought I was just plain stupid for leaving all that money behind. Perhaps I was. But a big part of me felt, if I could become a millionaire once, then I could do it again. It is nothing but hope. The true Stephanie would never sell out, the current me did. I define selling out as someone who does something strictly for the fact that it is highly profitable monetarily, and puts aside his or her own morals, values, and principles to obtain that money.
There were so many people trying very hard to get in that company, and here I was trying to escape with my dear life. I mean on paper, I had a fantastic life, and to the outside, yeah it seemed like a paradise, but I have learned from this experience to not judge a company by its stock price. Just because the stock is high and people are loaded, does not mean there is not a fucked up situation in that place. It’s like that perfect couple everyone knows. One day, out of nowhere, they get divorced and everyone is shocked. Well, the package may have been beautiful but the inside was FUBAR (military acronym for fucked up beyond all recognition.)
I stayed at this company 3 years too long because I wanted the cash. I did not love what I was doing, but I did love the money. I discovered my own dark side related to greed and gluttony. I put up with so much crap, abuse, and debauchery, that if no stock options were involved, I would have left after the first 6 months. So, I knew by my own definition that I had sold out. In the end, I lost nearly all that money I took away with me. I have heard several times that many lottery winners, and people who become rich overnight will loose all their fortune because spiritually and emotionally they do not believe they deserve that money, or that the money brings nothing but pain. For me, I wanted to be rich, but I lost all of that particular money because I did not like the person I had become to make it. The next time around will be very different.
After the bust, I was left with enough money to pay off all my taxes, thank goodness, and live in my apartment for 2 years. After those 2 years, I had to move in with my parents and put all my stuff in storage. I decided to start my own business, and be my own boss, so living with Mom & Dad was a way to help with expenses. Another 2 more years have gone by, and my stuff is still in storage, my business failed, and I am living on coupons and sales on the verge of broke. I should be miserable, and I do have my moments but this time at least I am free.
In the four years since I killed the fake Stephanie, I have worked very hard to get back to the real me. I no longer have to wear a mask, and I no longer have to compete in the game of life so that I can keep up with the Smiths. I am living with a wonderful man who loves me; I have good health, joy, and am my true self again. Now, don’t get me wrong, everything is not perfect. I have thrown the word perfect away. By all means, some would say that my life is kind of backwards and a mess, but there is an authenticity to my mess, and there is a freedom in that.
