tea and consent.

unconscious people don’t want tea. 

last night I had the worst of the worst dream.
it was of that night, back in October of 2014.
the night that no number of scolding hot showers can clear.
the night that no amount of scrubbing my skin raw will ever erase.
the night that no amount of alcohol will help me forget.
G kept asking if i was okay today, and reflexively i said yes.
i mean, what could i say?
“no.  i’m not okay.  a lot of things are wrong.  i had a dream of the nights i was violated.”


no.  of course not.  these are things i’ve only told my parents.
and even then, i only told them of the first instance, when i had to.

i’ve been thinking about it all day.
how this happened because of what i did.
and i’m not just saying this in a victim stance, because there are things i could have done differently, but i didn’t.
that doesn’t make it any less of a nightmare that haunts me constantly.
i could have done things differently, but i didn’t.
there are things they could have done differently, but they didn’t.
i don’t blame myself for passing out at a friend’s house, because i assumed i was safe.  i don’t blame myself for sleeping with my room unlocked, because who should fear their roommate?
i do blame myself for letting my guard down that much around acquaintances, friends even, because i guess i should have known.

that brings me to my final note:
this eating disorder happened long before these violations, but they became my safe haven.  now i’ve been labeled as the “nice girl” or “the good girl.”
and i don’t ever care, because i’m in control.  i no longer use food as a coping mechanism (occasionally i can feel myself getting bad again, but i try to use other ways, some successful, some not so much).  i use my control, my kindness, my niceness, my “good girl” persona, because that’s what i can control, in a positive way.
in a way that no one gets hurt.

i could have said no, i could have done many things differently (and again, i’m not victim blaming, because these are points where i should have been safe), but i could have done things differently.
if i had, maybe i wouldn’t be as broken.
maybe i’d still be going to school at SEMO.
maybe i’d be a successful pharmacist by now.
i wouldn’t change anything in my past, because it’s led me to where i am today.
where i work with the mentally ill, the sexually violent, the murderous, (that no one thinks will ever change) i am euphoric. i am thriving. i am happy.  working at the mental health center, where many clients will see me and say how much they’ve missed me, or break my heart by saying that i’m the only one nice to them, and i love it.
i’ve had many, many clients ask what i’m going to school for, and i tell them, “social work.”
and then they go on for days after, every time they see me, saying, “you’re going to be a great social worker.” or “i hope you can be my social worker someday.”
and it breaks my heart.
in the best possible way, but it still breaks my heart.
i am filled with so much positivity and hope, from clients, from friends, from my parents.  i have a wonderful support system.  i am mentally and physically healthy, and i hope someday (if not already) that you’re filled with this same feeling.
it doesn’t always get better.  the nightmares don’t always go away, but someday you will be so happy that you didn’t take your life, and it will be worth it.

so maybe you’ll have days like mine, where you’re haunted by your past.  that doesn’t mean you should risk your future because of mistakes and mess-ups.

– excerpt of nights i hope i never have to speak of again.

you can’t be a victim AND a villain.

last night, G and I got into an argument over Taylor Swift.
no. I’m not kidding.
Sadly, it has been weighing on my mind all day.  I went to bed angry about it last night, I woke up being a grump, (to put it politely. His words, not mine.  I was a cunt, in the worst way, and I need to apologize) and I am having a very hard time conveying why this argument has me so upset.  Why freakin’ Taylor Swift has me so upset.
I know that I am overreacting. I am being ridiculous and unnecessarily dramatic, but to me, Taylor Swift is my number one hated person.  Like, I defend Hitler more than I defend Taylor Swift, because actually, I wouldn’t defend her.

So, just to start off:
Taylor Swift is an exhibitionist.
And now with her new song, she is a self-proclaimed “Villain.”
except she’s not.
She’s not self-aware enough to be a villain. Typically, pop culture villains take full responsibility of who they are.
“But B, she is literally making fun of herself, because she doesn’t give a fuck what anyone has to say now.”
Oh, yeah, you’re right guys.
She knows what people have said about her, but I’m pretty sure she accepts no responsibility for her reputation what-so-ever. She’s still attached to that victim narrative.
“So, exhibitionist, eh, B?”
Yes sir, you know: a person who behaves in an extravagant way in order to attract attention?
Yes, I know, we are all exhibitionist in someway or another, but the audacity she has truly amazes me.  Yes, Kanye started that feud with her eight years ago, but then she wrote a song about him.  She called him her friend when she presented the award to him, and she lied, in some undeniable way/shape/form, about her knowledge of “Famous”, and she is constantly writing break up songs without acknowledging her role she played in them.
We know she can make fun of herself, (does anyone remember Shake it Off?) and we know she has the ability to say something without saying anything at all. (the snake tweet, anyone?)
Reinventing yourself happens.  Who hasn’t tried to become someone new at the start of the school year?  Moving away to college is the perfect time to become who you want to be.  Even Miley Cyrus has realized that although she’s not the same as she was a year ago, she’s not afraid of who she once was.  She owns it.
You just can’t be a self-proclaimed villain while you’re still playing the victim card, and Taylor, you could do so many things. You control your career and your music, you challenged (and took down) Apple, and ultimately, you could stop saying you were “made” to do anything.

Okay, now to the real issue that I think has me crying myself to sleep last night as well as tonight.  (I would just like to take a break to remind everyone, YES.  I KNOW.  I am very much overreacting, I’m ridiculous, and I’m just being a bitch because instead of saying why this is upsetting to me, I am refusing to acknowledge that sometimes I am triggered by her stupid lawsuit from April.)

This single dollar that was issued to her after the jury ruled in her favor, is not symbolic to me.  This lawsuit is about an instance that happened in 2013.  Now, I know the statute of limitations is not up, not even close, but this dollar that everyone is talking about, has literally no value to me.  I understand that in this sexual assault case, it’s not about the money, but that’s not just this case.  Most sexual assault cases are never about the money, they are about justice being brought to the aggressor.  Taylor Swift got this man fired, and after he calculated all the money lost, he decided to sue her.  I mean, understandable.  However, she seemed to turn this into an “I was assaulted because he touched my butt during a photo-opt and you couldn’t see his hands” situation.
This is a man’s life.  This is not a publicity stunt for feminism.
How many times have you taken group photos where you can’t see someone’s hands?  Hmm?  Do you accuse them of groping you?  And let’s take this into consideration: Taylor Swift is an amazon woman who insists on wearing heels anyway, so is there any way he could have touched her butt, not realizing that she is a fucking giant and her butt is going to be higher up since she is SEVEN THOUSAND FEET TALL??
Okay, whatever.  Exaggeration, but still.
as for the photo, I will say that it is just awkward.  It looks as if it was snapped as he was going in to put his arm around her waist, or after and he is moving away.
But this is still not the point I am trying to make.
Taylor Swift, a high-profile celebrity, won one (1) dollar in a court case because she was groped.
This is aggravating to me in so many ways.  She is a high-profile celebrity; she can afford the best of the best lawyers, and she ended up with a jury of six women and two men.  That is rare.  Most sexual assaults/rape cases do not happen like this.
I understand the importance of speaking up, but if you are raped, you’re more likely to keep it to yourself.  We have been conditioned that it was our fault, we wore something skimpy, we were asking for it, etcetera, but that’s not the half of it.
It’s just frustrating because G has never been sexually assaulted so he doesn’t understand how the mindset works.
You don’t tell someone.  You just blame yourself; asking why it happened to you, thinking about what you could have done differently, and if you do tell someone, will they believe you?  At some point, you will believe that you deserved it, because you shouldn’t have been that drunk, that flirty, that trusting, that whatever it may be.
When you go to court, it’s never about money.  Taylor Swift may have helped women stand up for themselves, because it’s “the principle of the matter” but it’s not really beneficial to see a celebrity have yet another success.  How many woman are going to come forth, lose, and then no one will ever believe them again?  How many women will keep their composure when having to sit through a trial with their attacker in the same room?  How many women will have a jury composed of more women than men?  Not everyone can afford this incredible lawyer that will practice and prep you for keeping your composure.  Not everyone will vote to rule in your favor.
After writing this, I realise that I was upset with him for all the wrong reasons, and I honestly went about it in the worst way.  I loved that he discussed this with me and had his own opinion and point of view, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convey my reasoning well enough, and that just upset me even more.
I know that had I told him why this upset me so much, going into more detail than I will on here, he would have been understanding, but that’s not something I’m ready to let come back to the surface after years of pushing it down.

Now, does anyone have any ideas of how I can apologize?
it’s gonna have to be good, because I was so grumpy, and I feel awful.

ten things i should have learned sooner

i. do not cross the universe for someone who won’t get out of bed for you.  a pretty face and nice words can be toxic and you will lose yourself between their lips, but listen to your hands shaking when they kiss you.  listen to your heart screaming into your chest.  they are telling you to run.

ii. highschool feels a lot like drowning and you will spend more days coughing water from your lungs than keeping your head above the surface.  this is okay.  it is okay to feel like your hands are too tired to keep you afloat.  it is okay to hold your breath and it is okay to let the waves drag you along.  it is not okay to let them hold you down.  it is not okay to swallow the ocean.  i know you’ve never been a strong swimmer but you’ll reach the shoreline, i promise.

iii. you will learn a lot about losing people while you are trying to find yourself.  people are not your medicine; no one will try to fix you.  you will be alone in a room full of familiar faces and you will still be okay.  your best friend will replace you with a pack of cigarettes and boys and your first love will forget to love you back.
forgive them. do not hold onto them.
let them go.

iv. stop wasting time trying to leave a mark on someone’s life.  chances are, if you’re meant to be something important to them, you do not need to prove your worth.  do not pretend you like their taste in music if it makes you cringe.  do not pretend you know what it feels like to live under their skin until you have crawled all the way down to their soul.  do not pretend you are something more than what you are. do not pretend you are anything less.  you are a walking galaxy and you do not need to prove your existence.

v. think of death, but do not think of dying.
think of life after death, but do not think of quick ways to get there.  i know you carry bullets in your teeth, i know your blood burns like alcohol when you’re too sad to speak, i know you’ve mastered self-destruction behind pink cheeks and white smiles, and i know you are tearing yourself apart from the inside out.  you are a monument and soon enough your body will crumble from all its missing pieces.
do not wait long enough for that to happen.  think of death but do not think of dying.
think of ways to kill your sadness without killing yourself first.

vi. you know that you love him more than he ever will love you and yet you let him kiss you like you are his entire world; this is where you go wrong.  do not settle for someone who has to force themselves to see the stars in your eyes.  do not settle for hands searching for your waist while they should be searching for your heart.  do not settle for anything less than what you deserve, and trust me when I tell you that you deserve a lot more than someone who only loves you when he needs you.

vii. do not hate him for this.
he is just another human being who likes to drink too much coffee and finds it hard to love anyone but himself.  do not play the victim, do not turn him into your killer.  he doesn’t know what he wants and neither do you.  he has strong hands and loves to touch your skin.  do not let him break apart your bones.
he will try.
do not hate him for this. do not forgive him either.
walk away and do not think twice. do not let him sink into you.

viii. hot showers will teach you a lot about how long it takes to wash someone off your skin.  you will understand what it feels like to claw at your own flesh.  no matter how hard you scrub, your bones will feel heavy with an emptiness you cannot get rid of.  do not crack your veins in an attempt to bleed it out because the only thing you will bleed out is more of yourself. teach your body to grow beautiful things. learn about the beauty of your flesh when it is not bruised or scarred, and learn about the beauty of your flesh when it is.

ix. you will kiss him like you are trying to swallow the sun.  he will burn your lips and set your throat on fire but you will not pull away.  you will learn a lot about love, but you will learn a lot more about pain.  you will tell yourself loving him is worth the burn marks you taste on your tongue.  he will kiss you long and he will kiss you hard and he will leave you when you are burnt to the core.
months later you will still cough ashes at the mention of his name.
it is not the end of the world.
you should have known better than to let a wildfire touch you.

x. sadness is greedy and it will eat you whole and spit you back out and your body will feel a lot like a decaying corpse.  no one else can taste death in your mouth but yourself. no one else will notice how your chest tightens and your breath cuts off. do not expect them to carry you when you are shaking too much to walk straight.
be your own hero and crawl if you have to.
do not let it digest you

– excerpt from a book I’ll never write

i’ve ruined myself for a lot of people that weren’t worth it.

Happy Monday, my lovelies!
It’s been a while since I’ve written, but I think it’s time to get back into it.  I’ve been a bit busy with school, work, and my gentleman friend who is terrifyingly perfect.

So, when I last left you I was discussing how to break off relationships, friendships, etcetera.  I know it’s difficult to know exactly when to break it off, so I’ve decided to write some very specific situations so you know that you can get rid of those toxic people in your life.  (I have used the term “best friend” but this can be replaced with other terms, “boyfriend”, “girlfriend” or whatever you’d like to use.)

  1. Best friends aren’t suppose to tell you that your laugh is too obnoxious, or that you talk too loud.
  2. Best friends aren’t suppose to embarrass you in front of people in order to make themselves look better.
  3. Best friends aren’t suppose to make you feel shitty about yourself or make you hide who you really are.
  4. Best friends aren’t suppose to negatively comment on things you cannot change about yourself.
  5. Best friends aren’t suppose to hurt you and damage you.
  6. Best friends ARE suppose to love you and make you feel comfortable in your own skin.
  7. Best friends ARE suppose to support you and back you up when you need it.
  8. Best friends should bring out your better side and reassure you that the way you are is good enough.

So, have you figured out if you’re a great friend? or if they’re just the biggest assholes in the world?  Once you know, shut it down.  It’s not your fault, it’s just common sense.
I’ve told my mother time and time again, that I have ruined myself for a lot of people that weren’t worth it.  At first, she thought I meant it sexually, but it’s more than that.
She knows that I’ve lost my virtue to someone that was emotionally abusive, so to say.  She didn’t know that I let others walk all over me, again, and again, and again.  She knows now that I’ve been complacent and pushed around more than anyone should ever allow.
She also knows exactly what to say.  When I’m feeling down, she knows that I immediately wish I could fix everything, and if I can’t, then I blame myself.
She knows to tell me that depression and self harm is anger turned inwards.  She knows that it’s ridiculous that Donald Trump can feel so confident and good about himself and I can’t, and that’s the realest sentence I’ve ever heard.

There is no reason that we shouldn’t be as self loving and confident as Donald Trump, and I think it’s time we start.  We are beautiful human creatures, and we deserve the world.