Violette Vendetta: Eclectic Idiosyncracies

Our burdens and troubles become each others. I keep ours in my chest, hoping one day I don't explode.

A once lively, vivacious, and fiesty beast once dwelled in this body. Lately, the beast is dying, along with her thoughts, dreams, wishes, and hope. Optimism only does so much for an internal downward spiral. Her nails grind and chip against the hardened earth, crawling out of the hole that she has created for herself. ... I have made a monster out of myself. I became something that I absolutely hate; a simple-minded being. Transparent like cellophane. Who posseses vacant thoughts and over-edits her voice in order to appesar likeable and friendly. I lost my sense of self. My wit. My abrasive and crude nature. Relentless and merciless in the best "fierce bitch" way. My ability to be outspoken. Only because I wanted to please people. One person in particular. That blew up harder than I thought it would. Though this awful epiphany has occurred, it does not mean that the damage done can be fixed. If it can be repaired, it would be a miracle. My wall has only built itself higher and higher. Instead of exposing myself, I shut myself in and became this person that shut out the person that meant the most. Because I was too hung up striving to be this perfect being and focused less on who I am and what I want, think, and feel. I became so defensive whenever criticism was directed my way and retaliated instead of listened and process what was happening and why. I butchered the only thing I ever wanted and now it hangs by a thread. My only hope is that we pull through. We make it out alive. Together.