Complicit In My Own Suffering

The big picture is romantic. The everyday details are grueling. It’s the work of simultaneously building unshakable confidence and allowing myself to be vulnerable. It’s the day to day of interpersonal dynamics, making a choice to say “I need help.” , “You hurt my feelings.”, “I’m sorry and I want to talk this whole thing through.” Each time I skip over an opportunity to be vulnerable, I move further away from allowing people to learn my language. When I shy away from being honest about my hurt feelings because somewhere in my past someone taught me that my sharing didn’t actually matter. I allowed a rejection at some point to stop me from being open and I allow many opportunities to pass by because it’s simply easier than opening myself up.

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A Broken Heart Can Kill You

I knew what it meant to love so completely, and knowing there was an expiration date, and I did it anyway. It was worth the lesson, the growth, the self-introspection but it came along with a pain that brought me to my knees. Ugh. The days when I knew we had to have a hard conversation, I would cry for hours on end, I would literally feel my heart hurting and the daggers turning painfully and there was nothing I could do but ride it out. It hurt because he understood me, saw me, loved me too and it had to end. It hurt because we did things that caused each other more pain on purpose and I don’t like that.

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The Vicious Cycle Of Undiagnosed Pain

They will have become masterful at blaming their low energy on work, or stress, but they will never admit to feeling choked and oppressed by their lives. They will never speak about taking breaks to cry at work in the bathroom, they won’t tell you the countless hours they spend researching the easiest way to die, and they damn sure will not share the drafts of the suicide note they’ve edited hundreds of times. You will never know until you are crying over them as they lay in their casket wondering how this could have happened.

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Accepting Mental Illness

I isolated myself to the point of no words, and I became proficient at being okay, fine and just tired. But in reality I was drowning, I was in unimaginable amounts of pain and I was ashamed, embarrassed too scared to speak up because I felt worthless. It’s been hard and it is hard to write to these things about myself but I must. Talking about this here helps me and I know it will help people like me because I know I’m not the only one who has been too strong, for too long but falling apart behind closed doors.

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A Letter To Anyone Haunted By The Trauma Of Not Being Believed…

You as an adult never realize when you’ll have a moment of flashback until you’re drowning in tears and unable to catch your breath because you’re being suffocated by the silence and rage you’ve had to swallow for years because NO ONE took the time to make you feel protected, wanted and like they would bring justice to your cries for help. This is for those of us who have sat in silence because there have been no examples where we have ever felt like our bodies mattered enough for anyone to care. This letter is for all of us who are so scarred by our trauma of not being believed or being brushed off entirely. It’s not your fault.

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Our Parents Beat Us- We Are Better People Because Of It…Or Are We?

Why is beating children a good idea, but we know a husband beating a wife is a bad idea? What are the logical and factual reasons for beating children so badly they have black and blues and welts all over their bodies? Is the lesson; if you do something wrong, you should be punished by getting beaten down? When you fuck up the only recourse is to get hit by anything someone can find so you know never to do that thing again? An adult asserting power in this way is simply abusive and there are no real positive results stemming from a practice rooted in dominance, fear, and total and utter compliance. Why are we spanking toddlers? We do it so they can listen better? How come it’s frowned upon to spank puppies or kittens when they don’t listen, but it’s okay to spank little people who do not speak yet?

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When Your Love Is Not Enough

Choosing yourself means recognizing the affection you are serving is be wasted on someone who doesn’t appreciate you. It means taking that energy and using it to fuel your aching heart. The pain that you’re feeling will pass IF you stare it down and admit that it’s real. Only you can come to own the truth of your personal destruction. You know in your heart that this is NOT the love you deserve. You have to decide when you’ve had enough because a taker will take for as long as you allow that to happen.

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