Human Life

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This happens more often then what people think. As I study psychology and become more self-aware of myself I have come to fully understand a lot more about my inner core.

I have been going through a lot since December if 2014 and that is not even mentioning personal reasons prior to this interaction that I have seemed to be now fully committed too.

I keep falling for the same things every single time. I think that I have established trust with someone who I KNOW isn’t worth it, and I KNOW they cannot be trusted period. So why do I keep putting myself in the same position, the same feeling of helplessness, the same feelings of blame, anger, depression. sadness, emptiness, and utter shame? I know that this person tells me things that I want to hear to use me and use my kindness against me. Why? Why do I keep allowing this to happen? I know that it is wrong, I have my friends and family see the pain that I am in constantly by this person’s negligence to fully be contingent of my feelings. That is not love, because I wouldn’t want my best friend to feel how I feel sometimes at the end of the day.

Now back to December of 2014. They say that things happen for a reason. Sometimes things happen when you least expect it. I agree to this 110%

I have blogged about this encounter briefly before to which I will at some point in my life actually for once go into full blown detail about the most happiest events in my life. And I say that in just as well. HAPPIEST.

What I am coming around too is that it has taken me years of mental and emotional abuse from someone and even from myself to realize that I have so much potential in this world that I don’t need to feel like I want to run in front of a car while on a walk, or want to slam my car into a tree coming home late from work. I have also realized that I don’t need to keep swishing the empty bottles looking for the answers for my pain, and not fearing that there are monsters in my bed, when it has been both a part of me and someone else who I have loved for so long to make me feel this way.

Humans are a funny thing. We are creatures of here and now. We have so many ample opportunities to do a million different things, and million different opportunities to do nice, or hurtful and evil things to others. Some people in this world clearly lack empathy. It has been documented that we can actually be born with out having the clear understanding of empathy and just go about doing what they think is socially acceptable because they simply cannot feel anything else. Now that is sad believe me, I am personally, very emotional, kind, caring and deep individual. Considering I am a Capricorn.

I am just a scared human being. I am scared of the hurt that is both inside and what could happen on the outside to me that is. Life is scary and we cannot avoid it. I have the power to make myself happy and yet I am obviously going about it the wrong way.

To sum it up I have by the end of August to make your brake.

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To The Body I will Never Love;

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TO the body I will never love;

I am sorry. I am sorry I have abused you every single day for the last 6 years of my adulthood. I am sorry that I never felt accepted or wanted because of my size. I am sorry dear body that all you were doing was making sure I was still breathing, pumping blood from my heart and helping me move my bones. I am sorry that I mentally told you I was done living on more than one occasion. I am sorry for all the drugs I have tried to kill what I thought was pain inside. Dear body I am sorry that I ate so much and then didn’t. Dear skin I am sorry that you have stretch marks from being overweight to being too skinny to putting on weight again. I am sorry for the fact that I lost so much so fast now I look like failed weightless survivor off of the Biggest Loser. Well because I am the biggest loser. For hurting you dear body.

I am sorry I can’t love you as I should. I am sorry that I have a sickness in my head that I hate myself and you dear body. I see these images of beautiful women of all sizes and I cannot be happy with what I have. I have made drastic changes that have hurt my insides I have ruined you. That isn’t fair. You know for a long time dear body that I was trying to kill myself because of the nasty thoughts that I was thinking and feeling. I shouldn’t have to think that way all because I thought that I didn’t fit into the world of beauty. I am beautiful. It shouldn’t matter size jeans I am in, it shouldn’t matter what the fucking scale says. I am beautiful. I woke up and I am breathing. That is beautiful.

I am sorry dear body that I feel out of place with you all the time. That I feel you shouldn’t be touched by anyone but me. I am sorry dear body that my boyfriend loves me but I have it in my head that he will always love someone else bigger and prettier than me. That is what is inside my head that I clearly need help with understanding that I am wrong. OR am I? I am sorry that I am scared of ever getting married because I feel I will never look good in a wedding dress or that I am afraid scared to have a child because I am afraid to get morbidly obese. It is a gift to have children and to marry the love of your life. I am sorry I am afraid of all these things because I hate you.

I am sorry dear body. I wish I could one day love you and myself for what I really am.

Another Blog

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Typically writing on a new piece of paper has always been so much easier than writing on a blank slate of a computer. Why? Because for me just writing anything down can be a tedious task. I feel I have altered and mastered the task of pure procrastination. And yet here I am again. I also have a tendency of always starting out great say with a new journal or writing a blog or something. I start out sweet and good and writing a lot then it starts to dwindle down and die fade out like it never even mattered in the first place. I always carry a journal with me (or a book.) I write down what I feel at times or I ignore it. They say that writing can heal you. Damn really? I have been writing off and on since I was 11 years old and I feel quite damaged still. Damaged why you say? Because we, all humans are flawed, and slightly broken. We are wounded but not that wounded. We are survivors of life and we still march on like soldiers. So I am sure most people do an introduction of who they are and such.  Me? I am as of today 25 years old. A woman who is tied up in the media (socially as well) and what you are supposed to look like with body image. I enjoy reading, though I am picky on what I read, mostly mystery thrillers, or true crime. I do enjoy poetry and have a fondness for Sylvia Plath. I feel that her and I would have been friends if I was born in the same era as her. Also our writing is about the same. The same feel for the neurotic flavors. Depression is quite the nasty blanket that I and so many others share and have wrapped so tightly that it feel like we are all suffocating at the same time. But that is for another post. I have in fact graduated college with a degree that seems now quite useless because the field that I have studied was law and they want you to have experience. How else does one gain experience if you are not given the change too? It is such a messed up situation. I know I am intelligent and not from my GPA either.(If anyone was wondering it was 3.8 but not bragging rights here.) I am a sleuth of my own accord and enjoy the challenge. Sometimes my detective skills almost scare me but not really. If you have internet access and the patience you could just be as good as a FBI agent. Too bad these skills haven’t gotten me INTO the FBI. I am more likely to get a visit from an agent and being question for the history of my computer. (lucky for me I am smart enough to use my boyfriends….lucky for me bad for him HA!) As you can see dear reader I also try to be funny. It might be dry humor it might be dark humor. Or just down right retarded. Or this is just lack of real communication and I am simply out of coffee.

Lately I have also been trying to channel my inner girly girl-ness. I went through a tomboy stage only because my weight made me judge myself on matters that I felt like I didn’t fit into being all girly girl. Now that I have lost weight (also weight problems shall be a good chunk of my life/writing/pain/hate/self-hate/etc ) and I look really GIRLY with curves and a pretty face (some would say that is always been a feature like my smile.) and nice cloths I just feel like it’s really not me. Yes I love shoes, and handbags and all things that small. But some days I just want to wake up and throw on shorts and a tank top without being gocked at. It happens. I also wear yoga pants or yoga capris all the time because I am simply a lazy human being. Flip flops are my shoes of choice I wear them up till its bitter cold out and my toes turn blue. My feet need to breathe. (To quote Abraham Lincoln!) My boyfriend thinks its funny and hates I wear clogs in the winter. I hate how he never wears flip-flops or nice polo but I love him just the same in our weird crazy relationship we have.

I just want to be able to write and get my thoughts out there. I know that it’s really hard having a writing career but it’s always been a dream of mine. Granted love that line ‘dream big’ we can always dream and dream whatever either that or sometimes your dreams are nightmares. I sometimes you have to understand the difference from reality and not. I was told a lot that being a writer is just a fluke if you make it and that it can be a total waste of time. Ok I get it. So what its a dream? So like I said before I already have my degree in something that is supposed to be professional, and yet no luck. So Why not just chase that dream?

Maybe this time I will stick with it and not give up like I always do. I need something to keep me stable since this time in my life it’s almost hitting rock bottom and I am too young to fee this old.