Tomorrow

Today I do not really feel good. My depression is getting to me. I can not leave my house unless someone actually makes me leave. I can’t say no to invite no matter how much I want to.

I sit and struggle to stay awake. Sleeping forever seems like such a good idea right now.

I get so frustrated….so angry with just about everything.

My daughter was singing today and it felt as though she was scrapping her nails against a chalkboard. Not to say she couldn’t sing but the sound. The fact that she was happy and singing made me so mad. I had to leave the room. I apologized for telling her to stop. No! Not telling, I freaking yelled for her to stop.

She got so upset so I apologized, but the anger was still there.

I had to leave the room for a bit. I didn’t go back for maybe 30 mins or more. Just hid in my room and cried.

I am doing this all on my own. I have friends but I can’t feel it. Like there is a void that is stopping me from accepting the fact that people…Care

It hurts. I know that it is there and it hurts. I hate myself for feeling this way, but who can I talk to? I feel as though I am being judged all the time. So who can I talk to? Who can really help me understand that things are not what they seem.

My?

Maybe…

Honestly I am just going through the motions.

Wading through this until it ends. That is all I can do. So I do it.

I am ever grateful for the people who put up with me regardless.

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Broken Heart

Wouldn’t it be poetic to die of a broken heart?

To just give up when the moment calls for it. No more fighting, no more trying.

Just let it all end.

Allow your heart strings to shrivel up and fade.

It will all be ok.

I loved someone, or at least, I got something close to love for them.

It ended up being a lie.

Everything they told me was just a lie.

Not something small either. They told me they where dying and I believed them. The signs where there that something was amiss but in the haze of love I didn’t see it. Not until it was to late and I had already invested so much into our relationship.

How can someone tell such a lie?

How can someone use someone is such a fashion?

I feel betrayed. I want to hurt them like they have hurt me.

I was told that it could help to write it all down.

To get it out of my system in some way.

At first i thought to make a letter and send it to them.

Instead I will write on my blog about it.

I haven’t been in here in such a long time because I felt like they needed me more. I gave up I loved for them so I will use what I love to return that pain in kind.

I will not destroy them as I so very much wish to. Instead I will have them understand my pain. In my own special way.

Letter To My Daughter

Dearest N,

You are my precious sunshine. The reason I get up each morning and my reminder to go to bed each night. You are the best thing to have ever happened to me. Even though you drive me insane at times I still smilw at your antics. I miss those days when I could just hold you. 

Now I can barely get you to hold my hand as we cross the street. Doesn’t mean you aren’t still loving, just that you would rather explore the world. How I love to watch you explore this world. You are so insightful to what is around you. Extremely smart and brave, you do and say things I couldn’t dream of. 

You always have a kind word for others. Your very presence makes the world a better place, it seems. 

How could someone not love you. My baby sunshine. My little girl. My precious angel. You are my everything. 

Yet…I am not perfect. I am no match for you light. I do not make people happy just by coming around. I bring no light to this world. I am not brave or smart. I am not insightful. I see this world as cruel and unyielding.  I am not happy. I am no angel. I am nothing. 

There are days when I think about sending you to live with another family. People who can properly love and care for you. Others who are made of light who will not bring you down. 

I am your opposite in every way. 

How did you, one so pure, manage to come from someone as broken as me. 

There are days when I figure you would be better off with me dead. 

So I don’t hold you back as you age. 

I hate myself so much that I feel it is rubbing off on you. Just the other day I heard you call yourself stupid. Please don’t do that. Never think that. It is me who is stupid but I guess I call myself that enough that you think you are as well. You are not. 

You are the one thing I did right. My gift to this dark world. My only wish is that you change it for the better. That as you age you light never dims. 

I hope that you know you are loved. 

No matter how sick I get know that I love you. 

No matter the words I say know that I cherish you. 

No matter how down I get know that you are worth it all. 

You may be the light to my darkness but know that I am here. I am listening to you even when the pain won’t go away. 

I am sorry for the hell I put you through.  For the times I cried and couldn’t get out of bed. I am sorry for the times it seemed like I didn’t want to play. 

You are my most precious baby girl.

My reason to go on.

I know that isn’t fair on you at all and I am sorry. I do what I can to make you happy. 

This letter was suppose to raise you up…and I am getting to that point. First I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for doing and saying the things I do. 

Sorry doesn’t cut it but know that I am trying my hardest to make things work. 
Raising you is difficult by myself. People told me I should habe gotten rid of you but I didn’t listen. I do not regret that in the slightest.  I hope you grow to understand that. You are not a mistake. You are someone so astonishing even the gods take notice. 

I will not always be here but know that I love you my little one. 

Know that no matter what is said and done that I will always be watching over you. 

Know that my flaws are not a reflection of you. What is broken in me just proves that you are someone so strong that you can get through anything. 

I miss the times when you let me hold you for hours on end. When I could caress your tiny face and hands. 

Now you are older and want to play by your own rules.  My this world be kind to you my love. Always stay true to yourself. You are a smart, confident, beautiful, amazing, generous, kind, courageous baby girl. My baby girl. 
I know none of this makes any sense now but It will in the future. 

I promise I will try my hardest to be there and explain it all to you. 

I love you my sunshine. 

 Momma. 

Overtime 

The world of D&D has always fascinated me. Weaving storyline on the spot thay come a live as you act them out with friends and not so much friends. 

This is what I have longed to be apart of. Yet I have always found myself afraid to get into it. Like, I would google the crap out of it, but actually talking to others about it didn’t happen. 

It was my own dirty little secret. One that I knew my family and many of my friends would judge me for. 

I had zero faith in the game. Recently though I found myself talking to a friend who played often. A friend I used to hate because I felt they were uppity. A friend I judged way to harshly for just existing. 

Talking to them I learned a story I always wanted to tell but never had the courage to. I told him the gifts I didn’t dare to reach for and the dreams I wouldn’t allow myself to see. We had fun and laughed about nothing in particular. I made a friend out of someone I secretly hated. 

D&D brings people together and allows them to enjoy a world not of our own. Allows them to be whom they want. The mightiest dwarf, the kindest elf, The bravest Teifling. It does things to people. I used to not let myself enjoy these things but now I think I just might. 

Not My Problem

Do not judge me

I gave up 

I become what they wanted

A body covered in cuts.

We are told that suicide is wrong. That is it the failures way out. I once read a story where of someone attempted suicide they where shipped to an island with other people who failed. There there were no rules and they could either try again or live how they pleased. 

Their records were deleted and their families told they died. I am not sure how the goverment in this book got away with not having to show the body, but they did. 

So on this small island some people did decide to take their lives while other vowed to keep going. 

It was a strange story. As you may assume all hell broke lose until rules were in place. Rape, murder, theft, just your basic chaos happened till they devised their own goverment of sorts. 

Not going to lie, I didn’t get that far into this series. Once I was assured people would try to find some meaning to life I stopped. 

Interesting that this is the part I stopped at. I guess I could have read on once the more darker stuff had passed….but I didn’t.  

I have read two variations to this story. One was a manga and they other a adult novel. Both times I stopped reading once life reached some sort of order. 

I don’t delude myself into thinking it would be perfect. Instead I choose to never give it a chance. I didn’t try to see if it would get better because what was right in front of me only seemed to be getting worse. 

In these books order was found but I just knew that it would change quickly. I knew that someone would grow bored of that life and try to start problems again. What else can happen when you put a bunch of emotional people in the same room. Even if everyone is getting along there will always be that one person who craves chaos. Who has this hidden bloodlust that they can’t get rid off. 
So I stop.

I stop reading and instead give up on the series. I see the dark past and have an understanding of the future. I expect change but it is not the change I believe can help me. 

People might think I am strange for that. They might tell me that I need to stick around and let the story finish. That giving up before I can truly reach the ending it not giving the author credit. But I, as the reader, hold all the power. 

In a story filled with violence, I can choose when it will end. 
So when people look to suicide I do not see what they see. They find a failure, a victem, I see a person who took their life into their own hands. Yes they have left so much behind but they are finally free…at least…that is what they think. 
Now despite this understanding I do not believe that peoppe should harm themselves. I do believe that people should preserve. Giving up on a silly book is easy, but giving in to life is a whole other story. 

We readers hold the power. Our story may be filled with pain. We may not hold all the answers on how it could change. We may not be alone in our suffering. We could be sitting on an island surrounded by people who hate just like us. Emotional husk, beings left to rot. We may have tried to end our lives in the past and have it being held against us but we still hold the power. 

Change may not happen fast enough. Somewhere along the lines there will be thay one person trying to fuck it all up. But we, dear reader, will try our hardest to go on. Not just for ourselves but for those around us who also need a reason to go on. 

Do not ever think you are alone. Do not ever think that you are not worth it. We may not have the lives of writers but as readers we are still so very strong. So very very important. Because without us there is no them. Without us they world would be an even more crueler place.
I understand death. 

I understand wanting to shut the book and call it a day. 

I understand giving up.

I understand it all. 

Without those who suffer this world would not understand.
But fuck me !it isn’t fair! It isn’t fair that people must feel pain so the rest of the world can learn something called empathy and understanding. 
I once read a story where people were forced to live on an island after they tried to kill themselves. Their loved ones were told theu succeeded. Some were probably forgotten whole other remembered often. On this island people died, people were raped, people suffered. Forced to live a life they didn’t want just so they could teach others a lesson. 

It isn’t fair at all. 

I stopped reading that book once things started going good. I didn’t want to see people come along and try to break what was once broken. I didn’t want to see as they healed from their wounds and try again. I didn’t want to see them be happy, for others to try stop them. 

Instead I focused in them surviving. 

Cause in the end…no matter what they decided..they did all they could to make their life theres. 
How unfair is that? 

Murder, She wrote

I often find myself reading psychological books where people are forced to face some past demon. Maybe they were abused growing up or they witnessed something they shouldn’t have. Maybe they had a moment of weakness and it cost someone their life. I love this type of stories because they can bring me comfort or even force me to see things. When I see them I also get to read about how people overcame these obstacles and found something close to happiness.

Funny thing is that sometimes the main character may have to go seek professional help. They are diagnosed and if you, like me, love looking up mental illness, you can sometimes can an “Ah yep understandable” moment.

I recently had one where a man was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder.  In the story I read he was hurt as a child by his father and also watched as his father killed another little boy. His life was full of abuse even as he reached adulthood yet his quirks seemed so familiar to me. They were much like my own that before I even got to the chapter where he was diagnosed I started to question things.

He has this urge to paint, to tell his story. To finally undo this lie he was forced to keep. If he didn’t paint he would basically escape into himself and a ‘monster’ would take over. When that happened people were hurt bad.

The story was pretty much talking about his journey with overcoming it all and being able to love someone.  This was a psychological romance (m/m cause a duh) that left me crying.

It touched on things I have never even told my therapist for fear they would find me an unfit parent. How there are times when I feel like someone is watching me. They are so very angry. I know exactly who they are but I can’t tell anyone. Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night I can hear them talking (it is usually only one…or at least it has been since my daughter was born)

I know who she is and I know that with time I won’t feel her presence anymore.

I don’t know why it took a fictional book to help me realize that what I am going through is normal. I am pretty sure most would question my already fading sanity levels if I had told them.

But it is true. This book helped me a lot. I will probably never be as brave as this fictional character.  I will probably never have the type of love that they received either. Nor will I get the kind of support and dedication that I need to make it through this life as they did. I am not alone though.

Reading has always been something that saved me. I could focus on someone elses trouble for a while. My life isn’t perfect at all but it is my life. It may not make sense to believe this book helped me despite me writing as though I am helpless towards my future. I mean I do not think I have a future but this book did help me. I am not alone in what I feel.

My life isn’t some written fiction someone made up. I may not have the perfect ending to it but it is mine. In time my thoughts could change. But just knowing that I am not alone brings me a world of comfort.
There she follows

To and fro

A little girl I forget to know

Shackled to a hurtful past

She haunt my conscience so the pain will last

I regret the cause that brought her near

Regret the dreams I have grown to fear

The little girl who cases

To and fro

The little girl who won’t leave me alone

So I write her story

I write her song

I write all the way I have done her wrong

So that she may go to sleep another day

Until she is once again ready to play

*****************************************

The book that made me feel this way can be found here (via author website. She has a lot of other books that deal with some tough issues)

Or directly on amazon here

She is an amazing writer so check her out if you like m/m novels.

Listen

   Today I had a conversation with someone about parenting.  Now normally these end on a pretty positive note despite some arguments in the middle. Yet this time I was left with a horrible taste in my mouth. I felt so very dirty after talking to them.

     They told me how once they became a parent they would not allow their children to have any toys or watch TV. They would monitor the  friends they made and their lives will be filled with nothing but learning. Even from the womb they would be teaching them a new language.

      Now all that isn’t all that bad. All parents do a variation of this. What made me feel ill is how they would go about doing this. How the child would not be allowed to talk to others outside of the family. How they had no choice in this and werent not allowed to play. First they said no tv but that they could play old school games. When I mentioned that games where TV time pretty much, they changed it to that the child can watch TV but not much. They would only get movies and the child would not allowed to read anything that wasn’t educational.

If the child did not like this then the childs only option was to move out. They had to obey all rules or would be forced to go to the nearest mental ward for a bit…no matter the age. So if their 4-year-old was giving them problems they would call the comes and have them admitted.

I listened to this for as long as I could handle before I couldn’t take anymore. They said that they lived a life such as this and grew up fine but when talking about their parents you could tell they hated them. They treated the parents like shit and gleefully explained how they should no longer be allowed do certain things. Like be on social media or even talk to them. They said they loved their parents a lot.

They said that they turned out fine but they are homeless and they have a sibling who is in jail…yet both turned out fine from their own choices. Despite having a life they said guarantees them success in life.

I urged them to read a parenting book but they explained that they would make the perfect parent. I highly doubt that…

There is nothing wrong with being a someone strict parent but being both strict and a helicopter parent won’t help a thing.

This life of this hypothetical child sounded horrible. I felt like crying because I couldn’t image this sort of suffering. To not be able to have friends and enjoy life. They wouldn’t even be allowed outside cause they had studies to do. Sure they may have a good adult life but what about their childhood. Being smart is something we all strive for but that won’t bring us happiness. Sure having a crap ton of money, doing well in school, having various skills is nice, but what about life?
What is the point of living when you are alone?

This person seemed almost proud of how things are and I hate them for it. I know I am judging their life. I have my own issues. My life wasn’t perfect at all. I had the strict parent and I had the one who wasn’t there. I had the parent who tried to be my best friend and I had the parent who wanted me to worship the air they breathe. The ones who say they are always right no matter what and the ones who admitted perpetual defeat.
I was raised with it all and I did not turn out fine. I was spanked as a child and hate the ones who did it. I plotted their deaths for quite some time. Wasn’t till I was an adult that I realized that they came out of the experience able to sleep at night, and I was the only one who hated myself for it.

As a parent I see myself as more Permissive/ authoritative style. I give in a lot of the time. I want my daughter to have her own mind and at times forget that I have one. I have a hard time staying structured. I am pretty spontaneous as a parent which can be good and bad. I love talking to my daughter about how she is feeling. Is she gets into trouble we talk it through. Sometimes I just randomly ask her how she feels. It makes me happy cause there are times she will do the same for me. Praise is often given for no real reason in my home. I can be distant when I go through a bout of depression and I really hate playing pretend. But I make up for it by singing with her and reading her books whenever I can. We play dress up and paint our nails.

I do not expect much from her. I just got to the point where she has to pick up her own toys but I do not push a lot of issues. As long as she does her best I am happy.

This can make it seem as though I see her as a friend and I guess there are times I do. My daughter is the only person I talk to. I can go months without speaking to anyone who isn’t paid to be around me (Therapists, Doctors,etc). I sometimes forget what it feels like to talk to an actual adult. Now I go about a week without speaking to friends but it still takes a toll on my parenting. I am a single mom and it is hard for me to get to know people. I came from a pretty chaotic background. She is all I have really. It takes looking through articles such as this for me to realize how what I am doing affects her development.

I still have structure. She get rewarded or disciplined for bad behaviour. I no longer allow her to do what she wants but I am not yet where I want to be as a parent.

Still when this person told me about their plans it sickened me. It sounded like a prison.  I know I am probably judging them harshly but I couldn’t take it. Once they left a weight was lifted from me. Their  very presence was causing me to go insane.

This may not make any sense to many. It may even seem a bit silly to get upset over something like this. Something so small as talking about a child who isn’t here. Looking back at it all I probably over reacted but I won’t say a thing to them. I no longer trust them and want nothing to do with them. In my eyes they are monsters. How could they do this? How could they treat a child so? I have a feeling that is silly but my hurt and anger won’t go away.

I hate this…

L