|miss self destruct|
2015-10-10 22:13:21 ET
hello again. i've had way too much strawberry banana vodka (just as cheap and disgusting as it sounds) and i have heartburn and can't sleep so i'm gonna write here. i found a picture i took earlier this year:
doesn't look so bad really. but it is. this was a couple days after i received some devastating news that i am honestly still probably recovering from. when i took this photo i thought i was smiling. it doesn't look like a smile though. i can see that whatever emotion is on my face isn't reaching my eyes. i can see the sadness there. it's so hard to remember how depressed and how fucking utterly SAD S-A-D i was around this time. it was a feeling that persisted for months. sadness so profound and real that i could not get out of bed, and not even the threat of failing my classes or losing my job was enough to motivate me. holy shit i was in a bad, bad place and it was mostly because of someone i once cared about.
i can't conjure those feelings now, those feelings of love and care and tenderness. when i think of this person i feel absolutely nothing and that makes me a little sad but mostly i feel nothing about feeling nothing. to be honest i'd un-meet him if i could. to feel NOTHING about someone you once felt EVERYTHING for is very tragic, i think. what a world we live in. existence is so interesting and scary and hard to wrap my head around. i am grateful to be alive but sometimes i question my purpose on earth.
i think about him a lot but i still feel nothing. i wonder if he's okay but i consider that even if he isn't, there's nothing for me to do about it anymore. i think if i found out he was dying i would still feel nothing. he has used up his allotment of my good humor but curiosity keeps me wondering about his life. i do hope he's content, i hope he is sleeping well and making good decisions for his future. i could never wish anyone ill will but i'd be lying if i said i don't hope he suffers just a little sometimes; that he dreams about making me cry and wishes things could have been different. i think i have a revenge fetish, i can't stand the idea of people doing shitty things and not having to take responsibility for it. voltaire said every man is guilty of all the good he didn't do and i agree. be good to people just because. please.
this is rambling but the alcohol is making me loose and i like it. it's been months and i'm still not over it, not entirely. i don't cry over it any more though, and i can look at pictures of them together without wanting to die. what a step in the right direction. i'm sick of suffering but sometimes i feel like it gives my life purpose. depression is so weird. i hate being miserable but it's all i know. when i'm happy i get anxious because i know it won't last very long. i find myself entering every situation ready to be disappointed because that way it won't hurt so bad when i am inevitably let down.
but i'm okay. i'll graduate in a couple months and be a real, live adult with my own place and a 9-5 job. i cannot fucking wait. my life is a clusterfuck right now and i am a creature of habit. the variability from day to day fucks with me; i need stability. soon i will have it. soon i can focus on my mental health 100%. things will be better, all it takes is time. i firmly believe that.
2015-08-23 17:20:43 ET
classes start tomorrow. my last semester! i'm excited, actually. i think i have finally put the worst of this depressive episode behind me. i haven't cried in weeks and i'm laughing again, doing things again, taking care of myself and making post-grad plans and living my life in the sunlight. a dear friend of mine came to visit; i hadn't seen her in months and she asked me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding next june so i'll get to see her again in a few weeks when we go dress shopping. we spent the day checking out second hand shops and eating gelato at a fancy cafe downtown. it was wonderful and so magical and i felt like a real live functioning human being for the first time in months and holy fuck, i'm alive and shit. it was just such a great day and it reminded me that there are sane, rational, selfless, compassionate, HUMAN people out there who care about me. i am not the shitty, damaged people who use me and leave me in worse shape than when they found me. i am so, so much more than that, in spite of it, independently of it. life feels worth living again for the first time in almost a year.
it's so strange how depression works. i'm really into MBTI lately and i've never scored as anything but an INFJ so i'm convinced that's what i am. besides, any INFJ profile i've ever read is basically me to a T. part of my personality is devoted to trying to understand absolutely everything, even things that defy understanding, or abstract concepts that can't really be understood in the way i'd like to know them. depression is something i still don't understand. i have knowledge of its mechanisms, sure; i know the neurotransmitters involved and their functions and how the medicine i take interacts with my body. but i don't understand myself sometimes. it's like i can feel this thing within me that just does what it wants and won't ever go away. i can stifle it for a while and learn to live with it, adjust every other aspect of my life to make room for it, cater to it and be extra careful with myself when i feel it flaring up. but i can't make it stop for good or tell it "no, i'm too busy to feel this way right now, can you come back in a month or so when i've got more time to be dreadfully sad?" it just happens. it's awful and very isolating and sometimes i feel incredibly alone, but then the fog lifts and i'm back to being "me." i'm okay now, but a bit dazed. i haven't been that depressed in sooooooo long, i foolishly attributed my past struggles to puberty and growing pains and blah blah blah. but now i know that this is just how things will be, and it's in my best interest to surround myself with understanding, supportive people who won't abandon me when i need them most and thus exacerbate my depression.
i'm taking a couple psychology classes this semester that i'm excited about: the brain & behavior, and drugs & behavior. sometimes i wish i'd have studied more neuropsychology, since my brain is diseased and i am very, very conscious of the fact that it greatly affects my behavior. it's really interesting to me. maybe in the future, because who knows what that holds, eh?
anyway this was just a quick update. my cousin gets married this coming weekend so i think i'll post a couple new pictures here from that. i'm excited to go somewhere new and dress up and do my worst at the open bar.
2015-07-01 18:20:50 ET
wow i'm writing here a lot lately. that's ok. it's good, probably. i've been taking my therapist's advice and writing him a lot of letters that i plan to burn next weekend while i'm camping with friends. i thought i'd written my last one a month or so ago but i just wrote another one. this one was nearly five pages long, handwritten on both front and back. i wrote it like i was going to send it to him, letting him know exactly how i feel. that's the lingering piece, really. i can get over him being with someone else, i can get over the regrets that i have, turn them into lessons and promise myself the future will be different. that's life, you know? live and learn.
but i don't know how to get over feeling cheated that he doesn't have to take responsibility for hurting me. i feel like he'll never fully appreciate just how much he fucked with me and how i will bear the scars on my heart of how he's made me feel for the rest of my life. it's not fair. i went through a situation in my childhood that still makes me feel that way to this day. someone hurt me very deeply and has never been held accountable for it. i haven't gotten over that, either. like, i can talk about it without feeling anything, the emotions are gone, i've worked through the guilt and stuff... but the fact that this person, this abuser, this living piece of shit in a human disguise is out living his life as if nothing ever happened, and i was the one that had to get help and re-learn to live my life as a survivor.
anyway... i just want to write something positive for once. my depression has been so hellacious this year, all i do is complain and wallow. some good news... hmmm..
well, i'm passing all my classes. it looks like i'll pass biochemistry and finally be done with chemistry YAY, because i hate chemistry and i'm not good at it. the only hard class i have left in my way is physics and then i'll (fingers crossed) graduate this december with my BS in biology. lord have mercy, it's been a fucking rollercoaster. i cannot wait to be done and start living my life. i feel stagnant, like i haven't begun to really *be* anything yet.
but i have a mother who loves me unconditionally and supports even my dumbest decisions, a grandmother that tries her best to meddle in my life in whatever way she can but is still there for me when i need it, and the best friend i've ever had who is seriously my friend-soulmate and i am so lucky to have her. i'm alive and i'm moderately intelligent and clever and at the very least i know that i am an honest and good person. i know from experience that is more than some people can say so at the end of the day, cool great for me.
this is a weird post but i felt like writing. i started writing a labyrinth fanfic last year that i haven't updated in a long ass time. yeah, labyrinth, like the movie. david bowie was my first crush as a kid and like, jareth still does something awful to me so i of course had to try my hand at turning a jim henson movie into pornography. i think i'll start writing it again. it has a fair few followers and reviews, which is surprising, which is encouraging. yeah, i'm gonna go try to update that.
i love you all.
2015-06-27 09:22:34 ET
i wonder if you think of me, or miss me, or regret treating me like something you'd scrape off the bottom of your shoe. i wonder if any of it was real. probably not. everything was built on a false pretense, anyway, and that's not a good foundation for anything meaningful. you lied to me about a lot of things, whether you think of them as lies or not, they were. i asked you point blank if you were over her and ready to move on, i told you i didn't think you were ready for a new relationship, and you said you were. you said you couldn't believe you'd fallen for her manipulations *again* and that you were soooo sorry for putting me through that, and you wouldn't do it again. you said you wouldn't and you fucking did. what a joke. i don't know where all this "unfinished business"/"always intending to get back together with her" stuff came from but you never mentioned any of that to me until it had already happened. if that was the case, why the fuck would you involve me? i don't believe it. i never will. never, not once, did you lead me to believe this is where we'd end up. as far as i knew when i got emotionally involved with you, you were in the process of moving on from her and only wanted to be friends with her. i thought you wanted to move on, to get over your romantic feelings for her. if i'd have known it was all fake i'd never have gotten so invested. if i'd have known you were secretly pining for her i'd have wished you well and deleted your number. you misled me every step of the way and i feel incredibly foolish for caring so much, especially now that i know i mean absolutely nothing to you.
it hurts my heart to think that i mean nothing to you, but how could i? how can you think it's acceptable to just stop responding to me? that's how you handle your life? that's how you solve your problems? really? you think that's an acceptable way to treat someone you supposedly care about? that's not a way to treat a stranger, let alone someone you once supposedly loved. how utterly disrespectful and cruel. just when i thought we were doing okay. things weren't ideal, our communications were a little strained, but we were communicating at the very least. if you wanted it to stop, fine, but to not even tell me? to just wash your hands of me and expect me to be the one to take a hint? all i wanted was to know that you're okay. i guess it's safe to assume that you two are back together or fucking or who knows what. you probably feel guilty and can't bring yourself to admit it to me or something, i don't know. i can't wrap my head around you coming to to the conclusion that the best way to handle whatever is going on is to blatantly ignore me. do you have any idea what that does to me? especially while i am in the throes of one of the worst depressive episodes i've ever been through? probably not. do you care? obviously not. but i'll tell you what it does to me.
it makes me feel worthless. it makes me feel like everything was a waste, a lie, a sick inside joke between you and her where i am the punchline. it makes me bitter and jealous that you two are up all night together having a great time and i am alone and too depressed to eat or get out of bed and you don't even have the decency to ask if i'm okay or not. it fucks with my sense of self to feel like i was so wrong about you and us. i am usually very sure of myself and my judgments of others, but i have never felt more wrong in my life. i thought i was getting to know the real you but now i feel deceived. i don't know you at all. i don't remember you. none of the things you ever said to me feel real anymore. you seem deceitful and disingenuous and self-serving. all of the nice things you used to say to me about your feelings for me seem like little silver-tongued lies you used to string me along, to keep me around to entertain you and feed your ego until you had the chance to get what you *really* wanted all along. i can't picture laughing with you anymore, all i can picture is you laughing at me.
i suppose in the long-run this will be a good thing. it has definitely forced me, against my will (again), to finally snuff the last few embers of my love for you. it's been a bit like being thrust into the deep end of the pool without knowing how to swim. all of the memories of our embraces and laughter and inside jokes that used to give me butterflies just make me feel cold now. thinking of you used to make my tears flow freely, but now i am able to stop them before a single one is able to spill over and slide down my cheek. all my thoughts of a future with you in my life, any kind of future: friendship, companionship, having a beer once in a while, whatever, have been replaced with a future where i don't think of you at all except to hope that you're miserable and that the both of you get nothing more or less than exactly what you deserve. all the time i spent thinking of ways to help you is now free time that i have to do things that don't make me sad or sentimentally hopeful that you think of me half as much as i think of you.
you told me once that it terrified you to think that you'd be reduced to nothing more than a memory to me. did you mean that? i wonder how it would make you feel to know that soon you will not even be a memory. you will be little more than a stain on my past, a dark part of one of the lowest periods of my life, a fleeting thought that leaves a bad taste in my mouth and a scowl on my lips. you will be a sad story i tell when i've had too much to drink and get a little too honest. you will be an annoying throb in my forehead when i see an FMA poster or hear a radiohead song. i will grit my teeth when i move to coralville and think that i once knew a boy who i am now very physically close to, but emotionally further from than ever.
i will remember you, but you will not be a memory. memories are reserved for things that i wish to call upon at will, things that i recollect fondly and want to preserve forever. you are not one of those things. our time together is not one of those things. i will remember you begrudgingly because i cannot force my brain to forget you completely, but i will not feel anything when my neurons fire in such a way that your smile or your smell crosses my mind. that is all you will be to me. a series of biochemical processes. how interesting and sad that our "love" can be reduced to an impulse passing across a synapse. maybe it's what you've always wanted. it's not what i wanted, but that's how it will be.
good luck with your life. i hope you find happiness and that your life turns out the way you've always dreamt it would. i hope you dream of me and wake up sweating and confused with bile in the back of your throat. i hope you see me on every street corner. i hope the guilt eats you alive. but mostly i just hope you're okay.
|an open letter to a dickhead|
2015-06-21 15:45:33 ET
i wish you knew that i'm not okay. if there was some way to quantify the tears i've cried for you, the hours i've spent staring at the ceiling, maybe you'd be surprised at how deeply i hurt. maybe not. the better question is whether you'd care; whether it'd make a difference or make you consider fully, for the first time in months, how you've treated me like shit, how you continue to treat me like shit, how you single-handedly obliterated something amazing and how i'm just supposed to be okay with that and wish you the best because hey, congrats, you've got everything you wanted and what a pleasure it was to help you out in your time of need, guess i'll just go away now. maybe not.
i feel you are unreachable at times. that no matter where you end up, you'll never be truly sorry, you'll never try to understand how i feel, you'll never feel complete remorse for any or all of this. that scares me and makes me angry. it's not fair that i am here alone crying and hyperventilating into my pillow while the two of you are up all night together. i was there for you. she hurt you, she physically abused you, she manipulated and used you and i was there, i was your anchor in the storm. i was there because i wanted to be there, because you needed me, because you asked me to be there and i knew you were not in a good place and i didn't want you to suffer alone, in silence. i gave of myself completely and you took it willingly as long as it suited you. now i am alone and confused and hurting and where the fuck are you? you jumped ship and didn't look back. do you understand how dispensable that makes me feel? how it makes me question that i was ever anything more to you than a rebound? do you get how it makes me so angry that i can barely see straight, to hear you tell me how beautiful and kind and perfect i am, but it's still not enough to warrant a phone call now and then? you fuck with my head by leveraging these extremes against me. i know i am a good person and i know you want good people in your life and i cannot come to terms with you settling for shitty, toxic people. you are worth more and i want so badly to help you but you won't let me and it infuriates me. you are smarter than this.
all of this would be easier if we could have actual conversations. do you understand how hard it is for me to move on from this without closure? to force myself to fall out of love with you, to come to terms with you living with your abusive ex-girlfriend, to go from talking to you all day, every day to not at all, without the chance to really tie up any loose ends or see if we could make it work? that's all i wanted. i wanted to see you, to talk to you, because i know if we got together you'd remember why we loved each other in the first place. it's easy for you to brush me under the rug, to tell yourself that my feelings aren't your responsibility because she's way more fucked up than i am and i'm a big girl and i can handle myself and she can't live without you so her needs are more important than mine. what a fucking joke. the bottom line is that she is there and i am here and all you have to do is not pick up your phone and then i'm just a memory. it's easier to make me a memory than it is to confront how much you fucked me over, how you ruined us, for someone who doesn't deserve it and will never, ever be truly grateful or appreciate the role she played in our undoing. fuck you. i am not a memory. i am not an idea or a concept or a tool to be used and discarded after you've broken me. i am a person, a tangible and autonomous being with feelings and emotions and a heart that i gave you, that you wanted, a person who you gave your heart to, a person you made plans for the future with, a person you talked about introducing to your parents. that wasn't fake, even if your nonchalance and constant "i don't know's" make me think it was. you cannot ignore me into un-existence. you cannot continue to ignore everything that's been left unsaid and unresolved between us, it will eat you alive and come back when you least expect it the way your feelings for her did. you need to realize that your actions have consequences outside of yourself, sometimes unintended consequences, but just because they are unintended does not mean you are absolved from responsibility for hurting people.
i think it'd have hurt less if you'd died. that's how it feels. we never got a chance to really end things or say our pieces, we just drifted further and further apart because you let her drive a wedge between us and now i barely know you anymore. you don't know me, either. you don't ask about my classes or about my day or about anything that matters at all, because denying me those things dehumanizes me and if i'm just someone you bullshit with from time to time it's easier to keep emotions out of it, isn't it? you don't want to hear that i'm hurting because of you, even if you can guess deep down that i am, and that i have been, and that i will. but i know you are still out there, still laughing with her, still interacting with her, still sleeping five feet away from her. do you ever think of me? do you ever come across things you wish you could share with me? do you ever remember how you told me you'd never put me through this kind of hurt again and that you'd be the person i needed you to be? i don't want you to be that person. i want you to be the person YOU need you to be, and you are not that person right now. it annoys you when i talk about the "new you" because you know i'm right but you don't know how to get back to the person you were discovering when we were together. you know that the you i fell in love with is just a shadow now, but i think that was the real you. this depressed and stressed and confused person is a defense mechanism because you're scared of being hurt and expressing real, raw emotions to someone because it'll make you vulnerable. it's easier for you to detach. i saw inside your walls for a while and it was a pleasure. i loved what i saw, i loved the inside of you that was creative and honest and candid. i miss him. as stupid as it may be, as naive, as pointless, as hurtful, i still hope to see him again. i hope to move past this and show you what it means to be loved because you're you, not because you can give me something or save me from myself.
i don't know what i want or expect. if i could i'd use that mind erase-y thing from eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. i swear, i would. forgetting you entirely would be preferable to this existence where i had you and lost you and didn't even get a chance to fight for you because you refuse to let me try. i could be so good to you, i know you want someone to be good to you. you deserve to be treated well, but you have to make up your mind to treat someone else well. you have to let go of your fear of never being good enough. you have to give someone a chance. if you push everyone away because you think they're too good for you, you'll end up with someone who doesn't deserve you and you'll never be satisfied. you are too many things to settle for someone who isn't your equal and doesn't compliment you and bring out the best in you. that's what a healthy relationship is. co-dependence and being with someone because they're a safe choice, because you think they're too pathetic to possibly do any better than you, that's not love. nobody deserves that.
i wanted to say all of this, or something resembling it, to you yesterday. i can't say that i'm surprised we didn't talk. "if you want to talk sometime on saturday it might be possible" doesn't inspire much confidence but it was almost guaranteed you wouldn't bother after we hadn't talked all week. i always wonder what you're up to when we go for long periods of time without communicating. i can guess, but i can never be sure. i don't like that. i want to know that you're okay and doing well, and of course i want to know what the fuck is going on with her. you know i think she needs to leave. her being there does neither of you any good. it's been nearly four months. christ, what a mess. fuck this year. you stole 2015 from me, you asshole. the first few months were good but why would i want to remember any of that? it's all a blur now. i don't even feel sure it really happened, sometimes. all of the embraces and the tender whispered words of devotion. did they really occur? the last few months have been my own personal hell and i swear to god i've really felt like i've been burning sometimes. burning alive in my feelings for you. how fucking dare you awaken these things within me and then expect me to suffocate them on a whim. i'm sure the next few months will be like this one, barely talking to you, insanely jealous and bitter at how i've been used as a means to an end, fluctuating between feeling like i'm over it and feeling like i'll burst if i don't hear from you soon. what a shitty year. remember when we made plans together? remember when we were thinking of a future together? where the fuck did it go?
i hate you and i love you. i feel sorry for you yet have absolutely no pity for the misery you bring upon yourself. i regret meeting you yet wish we could work things out. i think you are a good person but at times think you and she deserve each other, i think you deserve to wallow in uncertainty and drag each other down. i want you to be happy, but i want you to hurt and suffer the way i have. i want you to think better of yourself but i want you to acknowledge that you need help and that treating people the way you've treated me is an intensely selfish and abhorrent way to interact with others. i want to forget you and i want to see you and i want to hurt you and i want to kiss you. i just want you.
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