those things don't touch your worth. try as they might, they just have no chance. they do have an effect on how pleasant your experience. apologies for using the word, it doesn't sound pleasant at all, i'm aware.
i won't grill you for having given up. for 'wilfully' continuing this setting of life. i'm somehow sure you do this, or have done very much enough of it, to yourself. must have been awful to be that beating bag. feeling like you have nothing rightful to say against it.
maybe i'm to say it's not your fault. parts of it aren't, parts could be argued are. but it's beside the point, really. doesn't really matter how much of it is which, the finer distinctions, of how heavy should your culpability weigh. doesn't matter.
it's frustrating, 'life is what you make of it'. isn't it? and how so tempting, the act of surrender, to whatever causes, to your legitimate suffering. i can't tell you how to be. but.
your past stays in the past. your future flows into you fresh. you have hands to mold it. people, when they see you, don't see your past, the grinning burly demon piggybacking, it's imperceptible to them. so you can smile. and they think you're happy. and you keep up the act, it weirdly, in some ways, becomes you after, enough counteracts against the direction of the darkness of your past. you have the power to make these little counterward efforts. attack it from the outside in. a tree embosoms, buries warmly, the smallest and darkest of its annual rings. a tree does not abandon its ugly olden juvenile days. it's okay. what has been does not define what will be. that's you in the middle, between past and future, letting it through, infecting the fresh.
so just think about it. yes, do run away from your past. pretend you're not that person. which is true, you're not that person anymore, until you wake up on your fresh day then see yourself as him. you don't have to be. you don't have to be.