When I look at my reflection I see it on the tip of my tongue. Am I a slut? I give myself away easily. It’s not my body I’m giving, it’s myself. I give my heart to men I think can hold it, and they let it fall. They take a part of my soul with them. I leap into things heart first. Oh well? I’m not going to let my self linger on some one that doesn’t want me. I’m not going to waste my time. I’ll move on. I’ll find some one else. And then when they do it to. . . When I’ve gone through 3 guys in a month, have I gone from strong independent woman to slut? Where is that line in the sand? How about I don’t care about your social stigmas? How about I do what is good for me?
I don’t love myself. I don’t even like myself most days.
I have hated myself for as long as I can remember.
I’ve relied on other people to tell me how wonderful I am when I’m dismayed.
I’ve leaned so heavily on everyone around me for emotional support, when I’m alone I just crumble. I jump from relationship to relationship looking for someone to hold me up right.
The thing is, I’ve always thought of myself as independent. I don’t rely on anyone for any material thing. I support myself. But when it comes to my emotional well being I’m pathetic. I’ve always known this about myself but haven’t ever really broached it, so here I go.
I have hated myself since early child hood. My mother was a very mean, emotionally abusive drunk. I was the youngest of 4 children and I was the easy target to pick on. Many of my memories from those early childhood years are full of tears because I was sent to my room
for laughing too loudly, or in a way that annoyed the grown ups.
I was home schooled from the 4th grade until college and never learned a thing besides video games. I never got beyond 4th grade math because no one in my house could teach me. I thought I was an idiot. I thought I was mentally handicapped for 10 years. It wasn’t until I got to community college and held a 4.0 that I realized I did have a brain. I don’t know so many basic things like… what is an atom? I thought for sure I must have been adopted because the rest of my family is so smart and I knew nothing.
I spent from most of my time in my room crying from 11 years old till I was 18. No one asked me if I was ok. I didn’t have any friends. I was so alone.
In all that time alone you’d think I’d find strength in my solitude but I never did. I was just depressed. Whenever I’m alone now I feel like that still.
I need to learn to stand on my own two feet, but how? I don’t want to learn it hurts. It hurts to be alone.
Daily Prompt: Earworm. / Just give me a reason
I was finally ready to settle down. I thought we were fine, yeah we had everything. So why did you do that? Why would you sleep with her? Just give me a reason , just a little bits enough. Just a second, we’re not broken just bent, and we can learn to love again. I don’t know what to think. I loved you. You loved me. Right? Why would you do this to us….
Posted in Love
Tagged Loss, Love
What did we do last night?
Compared and swapped comic book collections –> played Tales of Symphonia (an old rpg for the Game Cube) –> watched Legend of Korra –> snuggled –> fell asleep.
What am I doing tonight?
Laying here. Thinking about you. Looking at your pictures. Captivated by your smile.
This is bad. This is really bad. I’m totally hung up on you. I’m strung out. I can’t sleep! It’s two in the morning and I’m wide awake thinking about you. All I want is to be in your arms. It’s been what, two weeks? This is ridiculous. Gosh I just hope you feel this crazy too…
I have a crush.
I don’t do this emotion thing.
He’s all I think about.
I’m constantly checking my phone hoping it’s him.
My chest feels tight.
My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
What is this?
I’ve lost my creative edge.I don’t remember how to think outside the box. Hoarding notebooks and filling them with stories about zombie out breaks and dragons and princesses, those days are all gone. Where did they go? When did I stop pretending? I’ve been trying to finish one story for ten years. I start writing and always end up erasing more than I started with. I need help. I don’t know how to get my inspiration back. I have this build up and I can’t get it out.
I think it helped me more than him — After years of trying to fit in I never could understand why it was weird to prefer video games to talking and why people would look at me funny for pulling notebooks (yes plural) out of my purse and writing what no one could see. I would stop a conversation (if you could rope me into one) and start writing or drawing because it was the only way I could express myself.
It wasn’t normal. Not for them. Somewhere I’m sure it is.
A girl that hates shopping? Hates reality tv and painting her nails? How can I relate to other girls? I can’t. I’m not like them. To them, I’m not normal. Not their normal at least.
But I’ll never be “one of the guys”, it’s hard when they all have a crush on you. When they have guys night and I have boobs. I love that I’m a girl though. I love my body, I love my hair, I love having my door opened for me. I am finding myself. I am finding my normal. I am happy with who I am, I just need to find other normal people.