The best thing about living alone: I get to make all the decisions.
The worst thing about living alone: I have to make all the decisions.

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@nothingrightwithme
The best thing about living alone: I get to make all the decisions.
The worst thing about living alone: I have to make all the decisions.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I blame it on 90s country.
The music I listened to every day of my childhood, the best of the 80s, 90s, and today.
I want to be spoken about with love and genuine affection.
Make me a playlist of those old fashioned country love songs and watch me melt.
My dad and I once had a disagreement over him using the adage "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
I said, "That's just not true. Sometimes what doesn't kill you leaves you brittle and injured or traumatized."
He stopped and thought about that for a while. He came back later, and said, "It's like wood glue."
He pointed to my bookshelf, which he helped me salvage a while ago. He said, "Do you remember how I explained that, once we used the wood glue on them, the shelves would actually be stronger than they were before they broke?"
I did.
"But before we used the wood glue, those shelves were broken. They couldn't hold up shit. If you had put books on them, they would have collapsed. And that wood glue had to set awhile. If we put anything on them too early, they would have collapsed just the same as if we'd never fixed them at all. You've got to give these things time to set."
It sounded like a pretty good metaphor to me, but one thing I did pick up on was that whatever broke those shelves, that's not the thing that made them stronger. That just broke them. It was being fixed that made them stronger. It was the glue.
So my dad and I agreed, what doesn't kill you doesn't actually make you stronger, but healing does. And if you feel like healing hasn't made you stronger than you were before, you're probably not done healing. You've got to give these things time to set.
I struggle to feel wanted, desired, enjoyed.
I'm not sure when it became the norm to assume I was forcing my presence and company upon others.
I don't know when I decided my company, time, and efforts at friendship were no longer exciting gifts to be given but burdens to be merely born.
I'm trying to recover. Trying to get better.
My self esteem is kind of shattered.
Broken like a mirror glued in a frame, it's hard to take out the shards to replace the glass, without getting cut.
I've learned over the years that I personally will probably never be the type to actively enjoy and seek more life. But its enough for me to not seek death either. To just do my best to be okay with what lifespan I'm required to live.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The truth is that everyone, at some point or another, sacrifices or hides or even discards entirely, part of who they are in order to fit in better. In order to stop being made fun of, or in order to "grow up" or because there is pressure to be or not be x. We all start out as innocent and authentically us as possible, and then we spend 20 25 years or so trying to be less or more or different from what we really are. And that's the part that hurts. That's the part that makes my chest tight and my skin itch and I can't breath and suddenly it's like everyone is staring at me and they can all see every awful thing I've ever done or thought. And then, once you realize what it is that is causing that, it's been so long and it hurts so badly that you have to figure out again what feels good. What feels right? What feels like you. And God knows how long that might take. I'm 23 and I'm still working on it.
This resonates.
Never accepting less than mutual obsession again.
Culture is offering a blessing from a God I don't believe in on behalf of a normal bodily function
Lately I've been having dreams
The waking kind
The kind I can adjust and tinker with endlessly in the moments between the current
Lately I've been making plans, doing research
A school to go to,
A house to live in,
A job to work.
And as I organize all the ideas drifting thoughtfully into one another and ever so politely forming an image of the life I'm hoping to build
A ghost of a thought rises up from the abyss I thought I had banished it to
That same old "What if?" Crawling up my throat and threatening to make me cry
What is the point of building a life to live alone?

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
People keep talking about "you'll find yourself again", "discover you", "one day you'll look in the mirror and recognize yourself." Etc.
And it's like bitch, I'm not the one whose fucking lost
I'm right here
Doing the shit I'm supposed to be doing
Working on myself
Losing the weight gaining the knowledge
Getting the degrees to prove I got the education
Like I'm not lost. I'm right fucking here.
The person that's supposed to be with me is lost.
Where are they?
The way you love me reminds me of my parents, my family, my childhood home.
Annoyed and avoidant at times
With periods of abuse and anger
Followed by a smothering apologetic lovey dovey period
And then of course the repulsed distance you claim to be protecting me with.
Then times of true distance, miles and months not seeing each other sprinkled with your false promises and empty words.
You love me like my parents did, and I love you like I loved them.
Unconditionally
From a distance when it wasn't safe for me
With the understanding that they will never be reliable and there will always be times that they let me down and disappoint me.
To never believe their words until what they said would happen, happened
And until one of us died.
Had a realization about myself recently, and I think I might need to go get myself evaluated whoops
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’ve never met an NT who genuinely related with ND experiences nor who questioned if they might be ND. 😛
My mother was terribly obviously adhd, even to me as a child and some how she missed that I also was. Missed is maybe not the right. Willfully ignored would be better.
i want to be wanted ‼️ but i dont want to use instagram or dating apps ‼️ or go on casual dates ‼️ i want devotion you put your soul on the altar of my being no questions asked ‼️ or nothing . do you get what i mean . wah
they should invent decisions that are easy
Decision fatigue makes me do fun things like not eat dinner because the concept of having to choose a food to consume feels like agony.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
It's got to be some kind of cosmic joke that every vaguely feminine identifying person I know, and even people who merely once identified as feminine have this fucking asshole, not worth the dirt on the bottom of my boots, motherfucker that they're in love and hurt with. If you told me that was the punishment that "god" gave for eating that fruit I might actually have to reconsider my position on god's existence because there is definitely something supernatural going on. You mean to tell me all these perfectly loveable human beings are tolerating being treated like a semi feral raccon by a guy who looks like a stock photo from Getty images? There has to be some sort of something going on there. Like call Sam and Dean, the Scooby-Doo gang, Ghostbusters, Mythbusters, Nancy drew and the hardy boys, a reputable therapist, and get this shit worked out.
I think I need to see a medical professional. A doctor of some kind.
I'm trying to be chill
But I can feel you ignoring me in my chest, physically.
It hurts
I literally can't do anything because I can't stop thinking about you
I don't have any room inside for anything else.
I think I might be going insane.
Can you go insane in your early twenties?
Is that a thing?