Rational irrationality

I am angry, and in my head it js for a very valid reason.

I am angry and no amount of “your being unfair” is going to fix it.

I am angry and your anger will only ignite it.

Today is my daughters birthday. My pride and joy is turning four years old.

Yet to me it was a horrible day.

She did have a really good day but it hurt to hear all these excues to why people didn’t call to talk to her.

Not as though anyone makes time for her most any other day but I thought people would try to make an effort to speak to her. Those who did called later on in the day. Late late at night when any other day she woukd have been preparing for bed.

I understand that people work and what not but seriously. No one could call before work? Are lunch breaks not a thing? She is four. She doesnt care if you call long enough to even just sing her happy birthday. Rarely does she ever want to sit on the phone for longer than five mins. Yet no one…no one called her during reasonable hours. Only two people had a valid excuse and even they called pretty. Her aunts,uncles,cousin,father, grandparents no one called her.

Yet those who do not share her blood made time for her. They helped me throw her an amazing party. They got her presents she will cherish greatly ( for the next few months or so)

People started flooding in with their love and well wishes after I made a post for not calling, but again this was people who didn’t share her blood.

My best friends…my supposed best friends said nothing.

I can’t help but hate the world right now for this very simple reason.

Whether I am being rational or not is not something I care about at this moment.

I know it is silly but right now I feel…betrayed. Yes betrayed because I always try to be there for others and yet no one seems to care about the most important person to me. Damn my birthday and other memorable events.

It is her day. The celebration of her life and how dare they say they love and care for her when they can’t even make time out of theirs to check up on her.

I am so done with everything.

She still had a good day but I will remember this.

Advertisements

Say it with me

I like the words low self-esteem. That makes it seem like there is hope. That one day it can come back.

Now zero self-esteem, that is a different story. That means there is no chance of it coming back without some outside help.

But how can we go about life lacking it and expect others to help us. We are always being told that if we do not love ourselves then no one else will love us. So what if a person hates themselves with a passion, does that mean that they will always be alone?

I like to think that there is a chance they can be happy. It will just take someone from the outside to help them see the light.

She used to be hopeful

She used to try

She used to smile

Once upon a time

A bright future a head of her

But her head in the clouds

She used to be normal

Then she was found

In a backend ally

With her knees on the ground

Surrounded by people

But lost in the sound

She used to be everything

She used to be love

Now she is nothing

Someone we all judge

Needle in her arm

And hate in her heart

How did this happen

What tore her world apart?

She used to be helpful

She used to be wise

She used to be everything

In her loved ones eyes

But now she is found

Laying in the ground

Surrounded by people

But lost in the sound

Of her own imagination

Of her own mistakes

She used to full of life

And now she slowly breaks

Needle in her arms

Blood on her legs

Crawling on the ground

To get away from the people

That roughly surround

She wants to be lost

Stuck in her own sound

Day 3

A book you love.

I love a lot of books so this one will be extremely difficult.

I guess to make it easier I can explain what types of books I love. I am a sucker for romance. Not to say I will not read a book without it but 9/10 I am more likely to reach for a book that has some of romance in it.

I love a good book with a believable plot. That no matter how farfetched it may be it can still seem like reality if you don’t really think about it hard enough. There are some stories where something happens that is unbelievable. I am reading a book where dogs can turn into people. There is no clear explanation of why this happens, only that it does when the dog forms a deep and unbreakable bond with their families. This doesn’t happen for all dogs of course. What makes it somewhat annoying to me is just how easily people accept this. All the love interest are totally ok with their S.O turning into dogs. Like completely ok with this. So far, in the three books I have read, no one has really freaked out about it aside from a group of villains. And who wouldn’t freak out when you have a a group of various breeds of dogs coming at your throat and one just killed your accomplice. He had every right to panic.

The thing is, no one else does.

I also read another book. An amazing book that I love where the main character is an artist who suffers from a mental illness. This illness makes it so he has episodes of extreme anger and distrust. He is extremely promiscuous and wishes others to hurt him even if they do not want to. He is all shades of messed up (ha see what I did there) and needs help. He manages to not only befriend some random good person but have them fall in love with him as well. A seemingly straight guy he so happened to find and bone turned out to be this amazing dude who ends up loving him with all his soul. Now this isn’t a spoiler. You could see this coming from the get go. What I do not get, and can’t believe, is how much abuse this guy is willing to put up with for a guy he doesn’t know. No one in this side of reality does things like that. Especially with everything he put him through. Even I, who suffers from the same disability as the protagonist, would have said duces a long time ago. They are complete strangers and took insta-love to a whole new level.

Now despite these little pet peeves of mine (don’t worry I got plenty) I still love this books and their authors.

I love a book that confuses me. That makes me react. That makes me want to throw it down and scream at everyone and everything. I want to cry, I want to laugh,I want that when I finish a book and look up, I see the world in a different light.

It doesn’t have to happen all at once but a combination of the above must be going on for me to want to read it. There are series I never get tired of and there are others I can’t ever read again despite how amazing it was.

I grew up with Harry Potter being my freaking bible. Where Scary Stories to tell in the Dark truly scared the shit out of me. When R.L.Stine made me question my sanity (I was nearly always in love with the bad guy). All that has crossed into my adulthood. If I am not questioning my sanity after reading a book was it really worth It?

Today I am going back to years beyond and am reading The Tricksters Choice by Tamora Pierce. This is one series I can read over and over again without getting bored and still find something new to love about it.

Maybe I will even write a review for it. Who knows.

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.

I can’t remember me

 

Just another part of the machine allowing to to function

going on about life as though it was nothing

I was different and now I am not

I am one of the group

part of the flock

a follower of the mans word

Someone with a lot of fault

I never meant for this to happen

I just wanted the pain to stop

I do not know how I got this way

It truly wasn’t suppose to be

but I needed a reason to continue on breathing

So here I am, phone in hand

pretending to give a damn about those around me

 

Drop Dead Reader

There is a whisper in the wind that tells of an old friend. Someone who is missed above all else. Silent and unseen, the words tumble to and fro. Going ignored by those who are meant to see.

Dearest Reader,

I am a work in progress. I allow my world to rule me. I allow the actions of others to decide my fate. This is something I have always done, it is all I really know.

I try my hardest to change but I just keep making excuses to stay the same. For that I deeply sorry. Dearest reader I will not promise to change, because I know that at this moment I can’t, but I do promise to get better. To be better than all of this.

I want to write stories that change the world. And I can, I just need to change myself first.

So here I go. A step in a direction I do not know. Wish me luck dearest reader. I will need it.

Letter to myself

I feel like a crappy mother

And no

I do not need your consent to feel this way

I feel like a crappy mother

One so full of mistakes

I rage

I scream

I cry

I do just about anything

that makes her miserable inside

I hide

I lie

I wish to die

I do just anout every thing that

can bring her pain

I am a crappy mother

Despite her smiles and kisses

Despite that fact that she is full of joy

I know

That I am a horrible parent

I do not deserve her love

Her forgiveness

Or her hugs.

I am a crappy mother

I do not need your consent to feel this way

I just need you to tell me

that you feel the same

I am horrible

Disgusting

Alone

Full of despair

I need you to tell me that nothing is going well.

She is my precious baby girl

Whom I love with my whole soul

But I know

That I am not a good person

I am a fucking mess

I will only bring her down

Yet for what it is worth

I could never give her up.

A/N

I have Borderline Personality Disorder. It is a disorder that is often misdiagnosed but once a person is said to have it, get ready for the judgemental gazes.

Many drs are not willing to work with someone who has bpd and we are automatically assumed to be high risk.

I looked up parenting with bpd and a lot of what I found were children of those who had talking about their shitty childhoods.

Now as a single mom I already feel like I am making every mistake in the book. Not to say those who are not single have more confidence just that they tend to get more support.

But to find out that my disorder can cause my daughter trauma well into her adulthood was…scary…(12am big words unknown)

I want her to have a good life. With or without me.