I have to start by apologizing for my extended absence. I became far too busy with graduate school and I let my creative side go by the wayside. I’m here because I want to get back into writing and most of all, I’d like to help.
I’m creating a new blog which I’d love for you guys to follow: crafting love
I understand if you don’t want to because I’m a big abandoning meany, but I’d like you to try! I won’t be deleting this blog because it has and does mean so much to me. I worked out so many issues on here and was able to express myself in ways I never thought possible. I also met some amazing people who I hope will follow me over to my new blog. This blog helped me when I was down, it has some of my worst pain encapsulated in it. I’m in a different place now though. I’m almost done with my graduate program in counseling and I’ve come a long way. I’d like to share what has worked for me in my most anxious and turbulent times. I’d like to share how I deal with my anxieties now.
I’d also like to offer up help and support to anyone who seeks it.
So please, join me on my next phase!
I don’t want to be here again. That scared little girl, diving and clinging to any little shred of affection tossed my way. I don’t want to go back to grotesquely unrealistic romanticism of how this should go. Planning our life together before he even decides to give me a second look, overly charming and hiding my desperation. The desperation to feel close to someone. To dote on and put my energy into the happiness of someone else so I can block out the complete failure of my own. The insistence to put up with any misgivings to feel any spark of acknowledgment. Of acceptance. Of validation, superficial though it may be.
I don’t want to be completely crushed when the real world never lives up to my illogical idea of love.
I don’t want to feel the collapse of my strength back into that pit I so lovingly call my self. Hungry and greedy for any excuse to be called “no good”, starving for a chance bombard my psyche with every reason I will never be pretty enough, smart enough, worth a damn at all.
I don’t want to be this way anymore.
I will not fall off the deep end.
I will not let this break up define me.
I am not worthless, weak or unlovable because he cheated.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had to pop a Xanax during the day. Almost exclusively it’s a conduit to a good night sleep when my mind is running a race I can’t keep up with. Now I’d like to sleep all day and night.
The thing is, for once in my life I had felt safe. Now everything is sinister and nothing seems familiar.
I’ll be trying to write more. Hell, I’ve got nothing else to do.
It’s a shame I can’t be more consistent with my blogging, but I try not to be too hard on myself. My moods have been all over the place lately. Most recently, yesterday, I was paranoid, suicidal and dissociating to an extreme. Derealization and depersonalization became a constant. At one point my vision became blurred and I felt content to sink faster into nothingness, let my body go vacant. Wait for someone more capable to come and take over.
Have you ever felt unwelcome in the body you’ve always been told is yours and yours alone? The anxiety builds and my skin crawls, like I’m an intruder in this place and it’s real inhabit is ready to return. It’s an uncomfortable feeling to know you should be breaking through this shell, content to be weightless among a dense sky, brilliant and fleeting. But something went wrong, you can’t seem to break free. This heavy flesh weighs you down and you fear it will become your tomb. Each day your brilliance shines a little less, each day you pick hopelessly at this pelt, pinching, biting, scratching. Knowing it’s not what you were meant for. Knowing you are alien to this body and it wants you out of it just as much as you do.
Until one day you just stop shining all together.
I can feel the wave of intense emotion crashing just behind my skin and I know that soon it will overtake me. Soon I will be choking on the salty water, flooding my airways with suffocating depression.
I know this comes, I know it’s a part of the process. I can only fly so high for so long, but it’s like every time I forget the immensity of it all. I recall thoughts only days ago, “perhaps I’m not so sick”. Then it curls it’s sickening familiar fingers around my chest. I will become lost in this, I forget completely what happiness and hopefulness consists of.
I plead with the shot caller inside my head. Please, one more day? I’ll make it up to you. I’ll stay in bed twice as long this time, I promise. I know this pain is what you feed off of. I’ll give you it all tomorrow, I swear. Trust me.
I’m not listening to myself. My saline behind my eyes burn and the urge to medicate to unconsciousness burns brighter than I remembered it could. I’m losing the battle with my own mind.
Hello to all of you! I wanted to start off by saying that I am eternally grateful for all the love and kind words I received from you guys on my last post. Not a single one of them went unread or unloved. Thank you. <3
In my flighty and nonsensical mind I made a decision to start up a line of sugar and salt body scrubs that have a focus on good mental health. I’ve been doing my research and there isn’t really anything of it’s kind out there, as in a line of bath and body products that’s pro-mental health awareness. I’d like my line to evoke good feelings in those of us who are over stressed and different than those weird normals around us. For example, I plan on making a body scrub that uses calming scents and colors to use during a time of great stress or anxiety with uplifting messages on the bottles.
Would you guys, those with mental health issues, be interested in this type of product or would you not care about the mental health spin on it? Is it something you would buy? Also, I’m at a loss for a name right now so any ideas would be great!
I thank you all for your feed back. I’m definitely in an upward slant right now, which is evident by my incessant questions and sudden decision to start a business. I am praying that this time I don’t lose my passion as I always seem to. I’m hoping this can be something that holds my heart and my attention.
I am unhappy with myself right now. I can’t explain what came over me the other night besides that it felt as if another person stepped inside my head and filled it with rage. I remember fighting with my parents, but the exact trigger has escaped me, if I ever really contemplated it at all. Death threats were screamed and accusations hurled. I told them they were the reason I have borderline personality disorder, that raising me in a bar fucked me up.
My mother’s response? “A lot of people are alcoholics now a days, it’s not a big deal”. I don’t remember much after that either besides more blood curdling screams escaping my lips. I barricaded myself in my room, as if they would try to come up and check on me. Spoiler alert, they didn’t. And then it happened. I relapsed. In the past three years I have cut myself maybe ten times. I can’t account for the other ways I harm myself, as those are much more common place. I bite and scratch and tare and bruise, but I hardly ever cut. That night I cut myself six times on my thigh and jabbed a pin so hard into my wrist bone that it got stuck, twice. It’s still sore. I couldn’t really move it for an entire day.
The physical pain is nothing compared to the guilt and shame I feel. Shame that I suffer from such a strong inability to control my emotions. Guilt that I don’t try harder to hang on to my sanity as I watch it slip away. I just let go and let the rage boil my blood til it’s all I can see. Til I have no filter, til I’m spilling out every painful word I can muster up in my convoluted mind.
I wish I wasn’t me.
I am bursting with excessive passion and nothing excites me
Pinpointing every emotion bleeding from my temporal lobes while fighting through the fog of dullness
There is no energy left in my body as I am crawling up the walls with anxious uncertainty
I feel nothing while I am feeling everything
Captivate as I evade, center of attention in the corner
Heart exposed and full while the door is locked from the inside
indebted to those who love me with conviction that I am scorned
I am the true walking contradiction that has been contemplated for decades
And so the mighty fall and I have fallen hard
Gravel between my fingers and dirt in my teeth
It takes so little to knock me down one thousand pegs to where I belong
My body thrives on self loathing, my bone marrow is genuine disdain
My heart pumps no blood, it survives on disgust alone
My skin is flimsy and easily penetrated, porous and thin
It soaks up guilt and judgement til I am full and tight with self-deprecation
The lovely and fellow and cut-throat Teela has decided to be a real great lady and help me with some of my goals. :) She has awarded me with the “I am part of the Word Press Family Award”. Usually I don’t accept awards I’m given because I am a lazy fool, but since she has been so kind to help me I certainly will this time. ;)
This award was created by Shaun Gibson so I will use his words that embody what this award means to him and the rest of the wordpress community:
“This is an award for everyone who is part of the “Word Press Family” I started this award on the basis that the Word Press Family has taken me in and showed me love and a caring side only Word Press can.
The way people take a second to be nice, to answer a question and not make things a competition amazes me here. I know I have been given many awards, but I wanted to leave my own legacy on here by creating my own award, as many have done before.
This represents “Family” we never meet, but are there for us as family. It is my honor to start this award. Thank you”—Shaun Gibson.
The ten people I am naming have been absolute god sends to me since I began blogging here on wordpress. They have become more like a family to me than mere readers. I love these guys and you should certainly go and see their blogs. :)
Thank you guys :)