Words from my brain

So...

My dad got married this Saturday.

And although I'm happy for him, in that I'm glad he found someone who takes care of him, I also feel completely crushed.

At a wedding you're expected to congratulate the couple on their everlasting love. I didn't do that. I smiled and posed for pictures, but my heart wasn't in it. I wasn't sad or angry, I was just very very tired.

Tired of always being left behind by my father and tired of knowing the fact that I am his last priority.

He chose her over me and he will now keep choosing her over me till the end of time.

I didn't cry. I didn't feel happy. I didn't feel anything.

And when I got home, I realized that I felt more when Monica and Chandler got married or when Aang and Katara ended up together than I did when my own father got married.

How dare he expect to be congratulated for abandoning his child? His own flesh and blood?

I have a serious issue standing up for myself.

Whilst the context of the attached photograph might be one of romance, I have associated it with my shyness to confrontation.

I am so afraid of people hating me or leaving me if I tell them no or pick the wrong thing. Even if it is something as small as not feeling like hanging out.

It really boils down to my missing self-respect (and my crazy father) in most cases.

I try to let people know when something bothers me, but every single time I get this overwhelming feeling of anxiety. I'm so afraid of being abandoned.

I keep a diary like this, full of things I wish I would have said in the moment and it makes me feel like a coward every time I look at it.

So I'm practicing standing up for myself and I encourage you all to do the same. Don't get down on yourself for making mistakes and remember that you are worth more than whatever crap your loved ones might be throwing at you!

And if they leave you, don't think of it as abandonment, but as a dodged bullet.

He told me he loved me.

I could see it in his eyes that he meant it. He had that look that only a lover can replicate.

I wasn't surprised, I had noticed it for a while, yet I couldn't shake that ugly feeling that it wasn't right.

It was true, that's for sure, but was it right? I'm worried, like with so many other things, that I will do or say something stupid and ruin it.

It feels so fragile, the love. Like, should I drop it, it will shatter into a thousand pieces.

But all of that being said, it also feels so incredibly sacred, holding someone's heart in my hands.

That feeling of being loved, truly loved, even if it is just for a little while...

I will hold onto that feeling for now.

Time to finally shed my winter, viking skin and put on a new, slightly tanner, one.

I've been gone for a while. Been dealing with some stuff and needed some time for myself. I hope everyone is okay and staying safe.

I call it COVID-chic.

It's currently 03:15 am and I just woke up.

What is happening?

If only HE would hold me tight when I'm down.

If only HE would surprise me with big romantic gestures.

If only HE would kiss me and tell me he loved me.

If only HE would sweep me off my feet.

Then I wouldn't need to fill that dark void in my heart with superficial quests for love.

I would have a lover forever.

A lover in death.

I feel surprisingly cute today.

I'm nervous and anxious.

This past Wednesday was my 23rd birthday. It was a great day, but I couldn't help thinking that this past year was simultaneously the best and the worst year of my life.

My depression was at an all time low, I broke up with my boyfriend of 2.5 years and was forced to move out of my apartment and back into my mom's house and don't even get me started on my dad.

Charging...

Logically I know he's bad for me... But emotionally...