I still look for you.

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It’s been a little under a year since I made the tough decision to cut you out of my life.

I’m sure you read my blogs, it just seems like something you’d do. So listen carefully.

Telling you that you made my life worse was the toughest decision I’ve made.

But you’ve broken my heart so many times before any boyfriend had the chance.

You made the heartache of a break up feel like nothing more than a stubbed toe, because I’ve had worse.

Because I’ve had my mother tell me I’m the reason she tried to kill herself when I was 13 years old.

Because I’ve been told that I fake my mental illness for attention.

Because I’ve been told that I don’t know how to handle my problems.

Because I’ve been told that I’m not good enough.

Because I’ve been told that everything you did to me, didn’t happen. That I’m a liar.

You’ve made me feel crazy. You’ve made me doubt myself. You’ve made me hate myself.

Despite how much you’ve hurt me.

I still look for you.

I look for you in every crowded place.

I look for you at every grocery store. And I hope I can catch a glimpse of you.

And I want you to search for me.

I want you to look for me in a crowded room.

Because that would mean that you cared.

And  I want you to care.

I so badly want you to care that I exist.

But realizing that you’ve blocked me on facebook, blocked me on your phone, I know you don’t care.

I’m a nuisance. I have called out how much you’ve hurt me and you can’t own up to it.

You won’t admit to the pain you’ve caused me and the pain you continue to cause me.

You tell your friends and coworkers and family that i’m a liar.

But I hope, deep in your heart, you know I’m not.

All I want is for you to admit to yourself and to me that you hurt me.

You shattered me and I had to build myself up.

You’ve broken me beyond repair but I found a way to keep going.

 

 

I just want you to know, even though you have destroyed me, I don’t hate you. I love you. I don’t like you. But I will always love you

Searching for purpose

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For those of you who follow me on social media, you may have noticed I’m doing an unemployment countdown.

I think my need to quit started when I had an uber passenger who was a corporate something rather for big fast food chains. He told me, that as a manager, I should be making $40k a year, instead of my measly $14k. He gave me his contact information and told me to send out my resume and he’d help me get a better paying job.

As completely wonderful and kind and generous that man was, I don’t want to be a manager at a restaurant. I hate telling people what to do because all I’m ever met with is attitude. And I can’t take it.

After my encounter with him, I started overthinking everything, as I tend to do.

I’m not making enough money to make ends meet, I hate my job, my coworkers act like friends and take things I say and spread it around the store… Why am I here?

The second strike was asking for father’s day off months ago and not getting it. I told my dad I was upset, I have reason to believe my boss peaked over my shoulder and read my messages because she stood behind me for awhile, said something, and walked away. After that, she changed my schedule to have father’s day off, which means I would work 14 days in a row without a break, and she also cut my hours from 40 to roughly 29.

I was on my break at work, when I decided to see how much money I would make if I did uber full-time. If I made $50 a day, at a minimum, for two weeks, I’d make more than I do at my current job. And that was the final strike. Right after I did the math, I sent in my resignation letter, and felt the weight fall off my shoulders.

So, that’s why I’m quitting, kind of.

I recently graduated college, save one class, and I feel lost in this world. I’m sure this is a common 20-something-year-old-college-graduate problem, but I feel like I’m different.

Psychology and helping people is my passion, but I did so poorly in school. I couldn’t get into grad school if I paid them… I can’t get a job in my field…I don’t know how to fulfill my passion. Every job requires a Master’s, which I just can’t get, and god damn I hate school.

 

So. During my 20-something-year-old-college-graduate breakdown, I quit my job, to ideally find myself. Find why I’m here. Find what I’m good at.

So, on that note, 12 days until I’m unemployed, and I’m scared shitless.

 

Cheers.

Fifteen years later…


I was 8 when the abuse stopped. My dad rescued me from my living hell and I was finally reunited with my brother.

After 2 years of daily physical and emotional abuse from my step father, I was a different person.

I still am a different person. I have lived fifteen years without physical abuse and I still flinch when someone I love lifts their hand.

I still think everyone hates me.

I still think I’m too blame for the majority of life’s problems.

I can’t let things go. When people say hurtful things to me, I believe them. I cling to them no matter how many people tell me that their words are not true.

After two years in hell, the past fifteen years of my life have been affected.

I still notice the side effects– the leftovers from two years of abuse.

So I’m sorry I flinch when you move, or break down when you’re angry… it’s been lodged in my brain to prepare for the worst.

darkness, my old friend.

Are you really depressed if you don’t reference Simon and Garfunkle?

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In all seriousness, my depression came back seeking revenge for those few months I felt happy and alive.

I now feel that dark, empty void inside of me with the lingering question, “is any of this worth it?”

Is it?

The little voice inside my head tells me constantly how worthless I am.

And my lack of friends and hatred from my coworkers is just reaffirming.

 

There’s still a tiny glimmer of hope somewhere deep inside the darkness. There’s a little Samwise telling me it’s going to be okay and it’s just the ring doing this to me.

And I so badly wish there was an outside force doing this to me. but this self-destructive thinking is coming from me, created by me, and is destroying me.

I should have known my happiness was too good to be true.

It lasted too long, it was too good, I felt too alive.

So I’m back to being a stagnant person. A person with one foot in the grave, forever straddling the line of being alive and dead.

Depression is purgatory.

College graduate

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I write this 4 margaritas deep, so bare with me.

my words, although never eloquent, may be sloppier than usual, but goodness are they true.

As I stood in a line by myself while all the others were surrounded by friends, I wept.

I wept because as much as I loved them at the time, friends didn’t get me here, I did.

I made the choices, I skipped the classes, I did the studying. Friends or no friends, I was there, graduating with my Bachelor’s degree.

And I cried.

I didn’t think I would. I have not been looking forward to this day. I was praying it would go by so fast so I could just move on with life.

But I’m glad it took its time.

I cried while walking on to the field, I cried while walking the stage, and I cried while clutching my diploma.

I didn’t know how important this day was to me.

I hated college. I struggled so hard. I lost so many friends. I felt more alone than I ever did in high school.

But graduation made it worth it.

Knowing I did something, no matter how much I didn’t want to, no matter how many friends I lost, no matter how much I cried, I did something important.

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Also, here’s my cap because I’m super proud of it.

 

 

Graduation Day

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It’s currently 2 in the morning and I must be awake by 5:30 so I can look presentable for the day.

But I can’t sleep. And it’s not because I’m excited.

I feel as if I don’t deserve this. It’s weird having zero friends attending graduation, and having my family leaving immediately after because they’re the ones I care about. I don’t care about walking across the stage.

I went to the hotel my family is staying at to give my dad and brother donuts. My grandparents were surprisingly still awake and gave me such a generous gift.

And my brother wrote such a heartfelt letter.

And my dad looked so proud..

And I don’t feel as if I deserve this because I’m not excited.

I didn’t like college. I didn’t make friends. I didn’t make good grades. Why am I celebrating?

So instead of sleeping, or rather not sleeping due to excitement, I’m sitting here feeling guilty.

I don’t deserve such generosity for something I suffered through for five years.

I contemplated suicide so many times, only during the school year. I got more depressed every semester, missed classes, had professors concerned if I was still alive, because I hated going so much.

And now I have a day dedicated to me.

Honestly, once the ceremony is over and we get lunch, I’m coming home, putting on friends, and packing.

So cheers to five years.

 

Always the victim

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Why do I always play the victim?

Things fall apart.

Friendships. Relationships. Families.

It’s a natural part of life for good, or even great things to fall apart. For your life to feel as if it is crumbling with every step you take… Only for even better, amazing things to form.

You grow out of each other. You are no longer compatible. Your lives are going in two different ways.

Instead of sitting here, playing the victim, blaming myself for everything that goes wrong, I’ve been learning to accept.

And let me tell you, acceptance is hard. 

It’s been a struggle for me losing my best friend without any final words. It’s hard for me when she posts things about how wonderful and amazing her life is now that I’m not in it. It makes me feel as if I am a toxic person.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a few bad things have happened to me. And I can’t help but ask myself do I deserve it?

Did I deserve to be raped? Did I deserve to beaten by my mother? Did I deserve to lose my best friend?

And after moping around for a month I can tell you, no. 

Nobody deserves bad things, they just happen. It is how we take those bad things, and turn them in to something positive, grow from them, that we deserve.

So at this point in time, I needed a lesson.

I needed to know how to survive on my own.

Ever since elementary school, I’ve clinged to my friends for everything. I needed them for entertainment, advice, rooming, school…

Hell, both colleges I’ve been to were because my friends were here and I was too afraid to venture out on my own.

So, thank you for the lesson. Thank you for allowing me to grow more in this past month than I have in awhile.

I doubt you’ll read this, ex-best friend, but I don’t hate you and I hope you don’t hate me. We have so many memories together that I cherish, and you’ll make more with your new friends, and I’ll eventually make new friends.

Thank you for allowing me to grow. Its been a long time coming.