Uncork the bottle

I don't have time for myself and when I try to take it, something happens and I'm needed.

I am exhausted and I don't know that it's worth it anymore.

I am moving backwards in my recovery. I need to work on myself and people are holding me back.

Maybe being alone is the only way to heal and protect myself from the people pleasing tendencies I have.

But doing that will hurt people, which is hard for a people pleaser who does not want to impact people's lives.

I'm so tired of hiding how I felt all those years, and that my instinct is still to protect you.

I just wish I could switch it off.

The highs. Happiness and joy. I wish I could sing and shout from the top of a mountain.

The lows. Anxiety, sadness. Make me want to throw myself down the same mountain.

I give people too many chances. I forgive too easily. I don't protect my heart like I should.

I don't love easily, and I don't trust easily. I'll always be a skeptic. Always assume people will hurt me. And they will. It's inevitable.

People hurt people. We can't help ourselves.

It may not be intentional. Its often not. It could be something as small as a wrong look, or a silence before answering a question. But we all hurt each other.

We just have to weigh up if the people in our lives are worth being hurt for.

I don't want to be hurt again. I'm afraid that if I break again, I won't be able to put myself back together.

It's been a long time since I posted. A lot has happened. I officially ended my marriage, moved jobs several times, moved towns.

Started 'dating'.

What I didn't expect is that I would think on things I had been so sure about, and realise I'm not sure at all.

Most of my reasons aren't relevant anymore, so maybe I'm changing my mind? I honestly don't know what I want anymore.

It's so confusing. Wrestling the demons. The thoughts. The indecision.

I think I could do it. I know I could. I think I'd even enjoy it most of the time. But do I want to?

Am I really prepared to give up my freedom? My life? I've worked so hard to get to where I am, do I really want to change that?

I'm not sure how to politely tell them it's none of their business and to kindly fuck off.

For the people I'd like to talk to about it, they're still his friends too. I don't want the pity, or the disbelief. I don't want to be the reason people I love look at both of us differently.

And they would look differently.

How do you tell someone that while he never hit me, I spent years being bulllied. Years being made to feel like I'm not enough.

Not pretty enough.

Not nice enough.

Not quiet enough.

Not smart enough.

Not thin enough.

How do I explain that while you didn't leave visible marks, the marks you left on my soul were so much more damaging.

I'm not even sure you realised what you were doing, because you didn't listen.

Not when I asked you to be kinder, to stop commenting on my weight.

Not when I broke down in the kitchen and told you that I felt hopeless.

Maybe one day I'll be able to talk about it.

I don't want to see the pity in people's eyes. I want to move on and forget, but you're making that difficult.

Our friends will never know, because this is the only safe space I have to put the thoughts out there. To say what I feel.

12 months ago I would have agreed. I'm stronger now, but do not have enough spoons to fight for my fair share.

I'm tired, and just want this to be over. I try to hide everything bad from our friends, and my family.

That's all I need. One thing to wake up for. One thing to look after myself for.

One thing to survive for, even on the days I don't want to.

If I can find one thing to get me up, I keep going.

One day I'll have more reasons, but for now, one is enough.

Even if it is just my fur family.

What a year it's been. I left an unhappy relationship, made new friends, reconnected with old ones.

Even though I'll spend it alone, this will be one of my best birthdays. I feel happier. Free.

In that 2 months we have lost the house to a flood, and are now trying to live together with our dogs, moving between airbnbs while we deal with shitty insurance a company and wait for the house to be fixed.

Its been a fucked year, and I can't wait for it to be over.

Some good things came out of this year. I try to focus on them.

I grew brave. I started standing up for myself.

I started Uni. I'm working towards something I want, and it feels good.

I made new friends, and reconnected with old ones.

I don't actively want to die anymore.

I'm sad, yes, but I don't regret it. I chose my happiness for the first time in years and I feel good about it.

We will both be happier in the long run, even though you may not feel it now. Although I'm sure you feel some kind of relief. I can see it in your face when we talk. There's no pressure anymore.

I used to say all I want is to help people find their happiness. I never realised I was sacrificing my own in the process.

Then I feel guilty for feeling relieved.

I'm sick of feeling this way. Like I'm useless and unloveable. Only good for one thing.

My heart isn't breaking anymore, it just no longer feels.

None of my friends irl know how bad it is at the moment. That the only thing keeping me alive is my 2 dogs. I don't think its fair to leave and have them not understand why.

I don't care what humans think. I fake the emotions well enough that no one notices.

I'm the 'mum' friend. I'm the one people go to when they need to talk. I'm used to bottling how I feel, making it small, locking it away. I always put other peoples needs above my own.

I feel like I can't show people how I really feel, because it means I've failed. So maybe it would be easier if I just wasn't here. I wouldn't know any different, and I don't think that many people would actually notice enough to miss me. The ones who would, will move on fast enough.