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Something I am trying to remind myself off when my brain is being mean, is that if someone has a problem with me, then it is on them to communicate, it's is not on me to second guess every message. It's on them to communicate their feelings. And until they say something, there is no problem.
This thought process is truly helping me and my brain to be more kind to myself.
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Sometimes I feel like shit, when I see my friends know more about another friend of ours than I do…and sometimes that just makes me feel shitty. And like I don’t know how to find out these things or ask questions the right way.
It’s no one’s fault.
It’s just how it is and I have to find a way to be okay with that—even when it hurts.
Change can be hard, but realising it doesn't have to be bad, that it just means navigating the change is going to look different, and if you let that happen, that can turn out to be a beautiful thing.
When all you try is to be good, and kind and then multiple people take your goodness for a reason to be unkind, to walk all over you and to push past your boundaries.
Being good, doesn't mean I'm a push over. I will not allow anyone to walk all over my boundaries.
Why does healing have to be so hard? Why do I still fucking care? Why do I have to be the one that cries myself to sleep because of all this. Why do I still respect you. When you hurt every part of me.
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I will not apologise for things that were not my fault,
When things were not communicated,
When silence was louder than any voice,
The footsteps of your shadow hurt more than the cutting of your words,
My heart on the ground,
From the friendship that could have been,
From the words you did not speak,
Leaving me to die without a care in the world,
When the dust is settled,
You will see,
You lost a good friend in me
-Her Hands-
Hands intwined in mine,
skin so soft,
delicate,
and bruised,
hands that touch me without laying a single fleck of skin on my body,
How do hands that have touched every part of my soul,
feel so far away,
and yet never leave my side.
Her hands have me enthralled,
Both with beauty and grace.
-By Bee
Trauma tends to stay with you.
It’s lives in your skin. In your soul. In the very air you breathe. You never expect it to fire up. But then something happens.
A reminder of your past, of things left unsaid, of things that broke you and suddenly…
The world feels like it’s going to break you again.
Only difference is.
You’ve already been through it.
This time you’re even stronger.
-B
