some days, i hate who i am.

i mean it’s not like i spend every hour consciously saying “i hate myself.”
it’s just that when things go wrong my first response is “of course” or “i deserve this” and the occasional “this is because i suck.”
if someone asked me “do you like who you are” i’d be stuck.
i don’t feel like i’m 13 and emo anymore, but i kept the same haircut. i feel weird saying things like “i’m a burden and waste of space”, but i feel like that.
just maybe not in those words.
it’s just like i swell too big for the area. like i splash over the sides, a party foul, the spilled drink. i mean how extra would it be to say something like “i don’t like myself enough to keep living”.
doesn’t that just cause other people pain? doesn’t that just make people worry?
but on the other hand i’m stuck because i feel numb, vague, blurry.
like i should evaporate.
like i do nothing but cause people distress when i should be helping.
like okay. i don’t hate hate myself.
but if the car was coming i don’t know if i would get out of the way in a hurry.

– excerpt from a book I’ll never write
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in this one, you didn’t stay

In the future I pieced together for us, you hold my hand and I kiss your thumb and I am not afraid to tell you I miss you.

In that future we stand together in the grocery aisle arguing over which kind of ice cream to buy, and later I kiss the caramel off of your face while we clean up the plates.

In that future, you don’t leave at the first warning sign. You tell me that you’re scared and that it’s not easy to love when everything else is hard. You don’t think it’s the right time. You laugh when I tell you we’re worth fighting over, but I mean what I say and you believe me.

You stay.

In the future we really have, I am holding somebody else’s hand.
They don’t taste the same and they don’t remind me of warm  bread or taste like red wine. They smile different and they don’t make me laugh the same, but they’re willing to try and I want to hold on to someone with less warning signs.

– excerpt from a book I’ll never write

goodbye 2017

Every year I start fresh by saying, “new year, no fear.”

I’ve said that for the past seven years, and it has never been more false. Each year that comes along brings more fear than I could ever imagine.

2017, you have been the biggest rollercoaster for me. I was the lowest and most depressed I have ever been. I was put on new medication for stress, anxiety, depression, and stress induced nausea/vomiting. I was finally put on medication that finally worked for me, and then taken off because I couldn’t remember how I would get home. (I drove, fyi. And no, I was sober.)

I was getting near my lowest weight again, and struggling with non-cognitive anorexia, fluctuating between weights for a long time.

Except for the past six months. These past six months, I have been the happiest I have ever been and finally being healthy.

I have known of you for a long time, I’ve adored your personality for just as long, but having the chance to really get to know you has been the most beautiful, incredible journey.

You’ve taught me about self-care and self-love, showing me that by loving myself I can love you all the much better. You have taught me that no matter how much I want to help others, I must fill my cup first, because I can’t spew love from an empty glass. You have taught me that I don’t need the relationship approval of the media, but I only need our happiness, and more so, you can’t help fix it if I don’t tell you what’s wrong.

You have altered my outlook on life, supported me throughout the year, and have grown with me. I look forward to 2018, wherever it will take us.

In my life, i love you more.

dictionaries of heartbreak

red [red] n: any of various colors representing blood

i. your favorite song plays on repeat, drowning out your father’s voice, and when you press your fingers into your eyes to keep from losing your mind, it is the star that burns the backs of your eyelids and the tips of your fingers.

ii. when he winces away from her kisses, it is what paints his cheek under her fingers, sharp with toluene and formaldehyde.

iii. it is when your lungs burn in the darkness and the only thing that you can see is where she cut the strings she held you by; it is the place where your veins open to spill their contents over bone and muscle.

iv. when the sun sets, and it dissolves into clouds that soak up its blood; it is the color that stays as the daytime and everything beautiful disappears. it is the only thing besides her that is both beautiful and painful.

v. it is the color that you see when the world breaks your heart again and again.

Happy Christmas

Happy Christmas everyone.

The past few days have made my heart feel so full. Family dinners with G’s family, gift exchanges, just existing in the same space as he is, it’s all been lovely.

Right now, he’s playing hearthstone and I’m finishing up knitting a scarf for his mom, and it’s just nice.

We exchanged gifts yesterday, and as always, he’s outdone himself. He got me a new curling iron/flat iron since mine broke, and books, which I always want.

Here’s a little snippet of his clever little mind. My heart is so full.

unwritten phrases

when she closed her eyes, she could picture it:
him holding her hand, telling her he loves her, standing at the alter and knowing she gets to wake up every morning looking into his eyes watching as their kids run around the backyard, chasing each other, them going old together in a lovely home; but then she opened her eyes, opened the reality that it could never work between them.

– excerpt from a book I’ll never write

i stopped going out in fear of people’s judgements

I am an assortment of insecurity and flaws that litter my skin like stars litter the sky, but i do not come close to being as beautiful as that.
I cannot leave the house without feeling a strain against my bones holding me back into hiding.
I am filled with uncertainty that drowns me like water until I can no longer breathe.
Why can’t i be happy with the way my body looks?

– confessions