A Place For Lonely Thoughts

I haven’t felt the need to write in what feels like an eternity. Writing was my escape, my way to connect to my strongest of emotions that I was terrified to let myself feel. Now, I revel in being able to feel even the most intense of emotions. In some ways it feels like a gift. I haven’t written on here in years and after tonight I don’t know if or when I will again. Having a safe place to voice the chaos I was feeling helped me heal and I outgrew the need to take advantage of it. I have healed, I have grown, and I have moved forward in a way I never imagined possible. I am forever grateful.

Crushed. By the never ending pressure to be exactly who others think you should be. By the unattainable expectations laid forth by those not privy to the inner workings of your life circumstances. Drained. By the constant pull for your energy and resources. Slowly being depleted of all motivation to be something more. Scarred. By the ever lasting impressions left behind from the cruel words of an angry conversation. Slowly healing but never becoming fully whole again.

Here's to goodbye. Here's to cutting every last tie. Every lingering connection to the toxicity you left behind. Here's to allowing myself to be at peace. Here's to allowing myself a chance at happiness. Here's to learning to walk away. To saying screw you for all the bullshit you put me through. Here's to getting back to myself. Here's to healing.

I'm starting a new project

Some days you will be okay. You will feel safe. You won't feel a crushing need to constantly look over your shoulder. Old memories won't be on the brink of your concious threatening to spill over and cloud the reality of the present. But I'd be lying if I said there wouldn't be other days when it takes every ounce of strength and courage that you possess to make it through the day. Some days you question every little thing that happens. You feel so scared that getting out of bed, let alone leaving the house, causes you to panic and isolate. Sometimes, all of your emotional and mental energy is spent trying not to succumb to horrible memories that seem to be on play in your mind like a sick twisted movie. Sometimes, you won't be okay. But you will find the strength to survive, because you are a fighter.

I don't know myself anymore. Maybe that's a good thing. Some days I think it is, others not so much. I'm still broken and empty and exhausted - most of the time, but not all the time anymore. There's still days that I look in the mirror and I hate the reflection staring back at me. But other days I am able to embrace my flaws and imperfections, at least a little bit. I'm more self aware than I used to be, and some days I remember to make sure I'm okay admist taking care of everyone else around me. I am not the same person today as I was even yesterday. I am constantly changing, evolving. So I don't know me.

She needs to be heard. Her story is begging to be told. It is ready to come forward. Ugly, twisted, hateful truths and all. She is ready to have a voice. Her life is aching to move forward. To leave behind the haunting pain and memories of the past. The fear that follows her footsteps. She is ready to protect herself. To speak her truth. To feel safe. But I am not yet ready to speak.

One of the most heartbreaking things is falling in love with a toxic person. People around you, who truly love and care about you can see you drowning and suffocating under this constant pressure that you have grown so used to, and to you it seems normal. You choose to see the best parts of them in hopes that they will change. For you, for themselves, for love. But the truth is, that's not typically how this story goes. They will drag you down in their own spiral of self hatred and discontent and at the end of the day the only person they will have left to blame for their own self destructive behaviors will be you. Don't fall for those lies.

Things I never said:

I don't have very many safe places. This was one of the few spaces that I felt I was able to express myself and my emotions to the degree in which I needed. The one place I could fully and unashamedly be my whole self, no questions asked. The one place I didn't have to defend my thoughts and emotions and process. The one space I didn't have to conform. And now that's gone too. I don't have a whole lot left and this wasn't yours to take.

They said that I had changed you. That you were changing your ways, that you were evolving in order to sync up perfectly with me. What they didn't know was that underneath the layers that lay on the surface you were still the person they had feared you would be forever. What they didn't know is that you were pulling me down with you, forcing me to adapt and conform to this twisted version of yourself. A version I didn't want to recognize. But after all this time, I have finally learned that the stranger I was so scared of was the real you the whole time.

I thought I was worthless. Not needed, unwanted, a nuisance. Sometimes I still feel that way. That's okay. I don't feel like that every minute of everyday anymore. That is progress. That is healing. That is growth. I still don't fully love myself. But I am learning to. It's a process. A very long and hard journey. But I am different now than I was even a year ago.

You will be okay. I know it doesn't seem like it now. I know. But I promise you, you are worth more than you could ever imagine. You will get better. It might take a long time. It might feel like an eternity. But, you will be okay.

I lost my voice. I don't really know what happened, it's almost as if one day I just woke up and it was gone. My whole life I have been silent, but with a pen and the scrap of paper I was able to articulate the whirlwind of emotions and circumstances that my daily life had come to be. Now, I can barely write a sentence without it draining every little bit of will and energy that I have left. And that's scary. Writing was one of the few things that I still had. Writing saved me. And some days, I'm worried that that's completely gone too.

Lately I've been taking a step back and looking at how my life's been going lately. Honestly, a year ago I thought I'd be in a much different place today then I am in reality. If I'm being completely honest and real, part of me hoped and thought that I might not even be alive today. But here we are. I'd be lying if I said that some days I wasn't still suicidal because I am but that's just my reality. And I'm beginning to accept and realize that that's okay. I have come so incredibly far over the last couple of years. I still have a long ways to go and I am still a very broken person but I'm not completely shattered anymore. It does get better, we can piece ourselves back together, you can be your own hero.

TW // hospitalization, suicide, mental illness

Isn't it ironic when the one thing you rely on the most becomes your greatest enemy. The thing thats holds you together at the seams. The thing that gives you peace (and maybe even a little hope) at times that you feel you have nothing left to hold on to. The thing you thought would never turn its back on you.