#wordbursts

noun

plural noun: assumptions

1. 
a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof.

examples:

“they made inaccurate assumptions about her intentions even though they’d know her for almost 3 years."

“one of her best friends made an assumption that she didn’t care about her grief when in reality, it had just been a long week.”

“Gabriella made assumptions based off a series of lies someone who she thought she could trust facilitated and ended up facing the consequences.”

ever since i was a kid, i’ve always felt like i didn’t belong.

i know that sounds corny and unoriginal but it’s true. i’ve dealt with people misunderstanding me my whole life so you’d think i’d be used to it. and of course as a person who is neurodivergent my solution was to over explain myself. which only made people understand me even less.

1. “you talk a lot…”

2. “do you ever shut up?”

3. “you’re very combative.”

4. “why do you always ask so many questions?”

1. i know, apparently i started talking around 4 or 5 months old and just never stopped.

2. occasionally, when im extremely shocked, ridiculously sad or if im just enraged (not good)

3. i don’t try to be, maybe it’s my tone (due to the years of having to defend myself from the constant criticism and mischaracterization)

4. here’s a question for that question, when did it become a crime to ask questions ?

recent events have put a lot of things into perspective for me, and the fact of the matter is:

i’m sick and fucking tired of explaining myself.

whoops, been tryna cut back on my swearing but honestly sometimes it’s just necessary.

anyway like i said, i’m sick of it. i didn’t realize how mentally exhausted and drained i was until LITERALLY today, right now, 4:21am. when the tears keep rolling down my cheeks and my aching fingers cradle my mouth and nose as i try to stifle my cry’s so i don’t wake my relatives in the rooms across the hall and next to me.

honestly i just feel defeated. sometimes its like i cant do anything right, and while im busy being bad at everything time just slips away.

i miss my childhood (the good parts of it)

i miss my best friend from middle school who doesn’t talk to me anymore.

i miss the way the pillowcase that my grandma made for me by hand felt against my skin.

i miss my cats. (they’re fine just not with me)

i miss my toy poddle Knotlyn.

i miss the way i always used to notice the sounds of the birds chirping outside.

i miss the way sun-dried fabrics smelled when my grandma would bring them inside from off the clothesline.

i miss not knowing all the different ways anxiety can manifest as physical illness or pain.

i miss wired headphones!

i miss that slightly painful feeling you get in your core from laughing a little too much.

i miss not knowing what it feels like to cry so much that the corner of your eye burns from constantly wiping and trying to hide tears.

i miss drinking from the hose outside.

i miss not know what a trauma response is, and how many of them i have.

and lastly, i miss the times when it didn’t feel like all i do is fight for my goddamn life everyday.

when i didn’t feel the need to people please so much that it became second nature. i really questioning who i am without the masking, the people pleasing, and emotional breakdowns that leave me with nothing but shattered pieces of myself i keep cutting my fingers on while i try to put them back together or force them to fit.

but you know what the saddest part is ?

i don’t even know if there were ever times like that.

so how about this, let’s start now.

I am as you see, either you get it or you don’t.

and those who don’t get it can FUCK OFF.