graceygabs

[graceygabs]

do you ever feel scared that your parents are actually emotionally abusive but you are just so conditioned to it that you think its normal? is it even possible that they are wonderful supportive parents in every other way but this one flaw that they have has the capacity to literally ruin you.

like...today my mother and i got into a fight and she started yelling at me, and for some reason i cannot handle conflict. something in my brain shuts off. i shut down completely. i start to get really dark thoughts. i want everything to end. its like that grating tone of her voice makes me wants to liquify my brain so i can forget what it sounds like. it triggers something in me that turns everything off and wants everything to end. suddenly the room becomes sticky, my presence is not right in this world and my axis is tilted 360, i loose all happiness. like all these happens in the five seconds that she changes her tone?

so i tell her i need to breathe, and start to walk away, because my therapist has told me this is a good and healthy coping mechanism in a fight, to walk away and breathe. and she yells at me as i am walking away, out of the kitchen. she meets me in the living room, where i burst into tears (literal sobs). “I just need a breather, please” i say. and she continues her yelling, her tone, after me and up the stairs. she agrees, but appears frusterated af, annoyed i am crying. inside if feel like i am dying, like i am caving from the inside out. like i am made of sand and quickly just dissolving. and by the way she sees i am crying...hard.

does this not set off some kind of maternal instinct, some thought process of wow i really did hurt her, i’ll stop, is she okay? but it doesn’t, so i go to my room and facetime my sister because the world is spinning and im crying and i cant breathe and thats when the yucky feeling hits the

wrong. i feel wrong. 

i can’t explain it. 

and this has happened for most of my teenage years. the only times i remember being extremely depressed was after a fight where i could to my room and bead my insides on my heart strings, imagine the skin ripped from my face. any violent image to take me away from where i was. i remember one time i was in so much anguish after a fight i went to the bathroom and took a razor blade to my knuckles. it started to bleed so i went and told my mom, and she knew it was because i was upset, and she helped me clean it up but she never once apologized or seemed concerned? i had just self-harmed? like? does that not set off alarm bells?

i would need comfort, after fights like those, and in a sick twisted way the only people who could give me comfort were my parents. so i would go to their rooms and say, “i don’t feel well” this was well established code for, i feel sick to my stomach because we fought, but like they knew that? and they would respond, oh it’s because we fought, i get it. i would use words like anxiety and depression, and still to this day it doesn’t seem to phase them?

flash forward to the present, i hang up with my sister. my mom texts me. “i’m sorry we got so upset. love you.” we, not her. she never takes responsibility, ever. ever. ever. she didn’t come up either. she just texted me. her way of mending it. later i come down. reiterate it in person. ‘im sorry we got so upset.” escalated.

i wasn’t the one who yelled. to the point of causing the other into literal tears? like.

i hate the way i depend on them for emotional support. i text my mom too much. mutltiple people have said she worries too much about me. im 20. i moved away from home for 1st year uni. found out i was having surgery in the summer after, decided to transfer. i would cry every time i would leave home to go back to school.

i now wonder if my constant communication with them helped attribute to my extreme home sickness, because out east i was also the happiest i had ever been.

now jan of my transfer year i cant help but wonder if it was my decision to transfer or the underlying tone that i would feel better if i was closer to my parents, their way of keeping control over me? 

every decision, everything i want to share with them, they are so supportive

whenever i want to share my feelings about something my mother always comes back with ‘i think we r pretty good parent’s”

ill txt them constantly and tell them in person “i appreciate u i am so thankful” contanstly. why? maybe out of guilt or fear that if i dont they will blame me somehow.

most of the time i have this instinctual feeling to get away. get out. stop texting me. they dont let me drive hardly. i still feel like nothing is real or validated unless they know or i have their support.

im also bi and havent told them in 2.5 years. part of the reason i think is because its a part of my life that is mine and mine alone, it is something they cant relate to, or advise or influence me on

i love my parents but i have a desire to get away from them, are they emotionally abuse, am i being un grateful?

[graceygabs]

what about us

the brokenhearted

the ones still in the fucking closet

biting down on shame day and night

feeding ourselves fear as a midnight snack

trembling when we imagine the reactions of family and friends

when we say look

im queer

it’s pride month

the world is bright in rainbows

but i can’t celebrate

what about us

the ones stuck 

in the closet

screaming to get out 

[graceygabs]

[graceygabs]

It’s so frustrating

Like I SEE the person I want to be, I can feel her inside my head. She is so fucking awesome. She’s out. She’s dating a girl. She’s fighting for LGBTQ rights. She has a good group of friends. She isn’t afraid of speaking her truth in fear if *offending* ppl or making them uncomfortable because fuck that. She isn’t her parents daughter anymore. She is herself. They don’t get to influence her decisions anymore. If she wants to go to Europe she does. If she wants to write a book she does. She gets SHIT DONE. and just lives and stops waiting for the future because her whole life has been preparing for the future and along the way she’s lost her happiness and now she wants to be prepared but also spontaneous and fuck the future and Fock security. How is she going to give her fifteen year old self the insane life she promised if she keeps playing it safe and hiding behind her anxiety. She doesn’t want to wait to go to Europe. To write a book. To come out to be happy. She craves these things now.

Instead she is stuck at home working a job she likes but isn’t for another two months. She is too fucking deep in the closet. She isn’t in a relationship. She is scared to speak her truth. She has good friends but doesn’t feel secure. She lives at home and sometimes HATES how much her parents opinions influence her decisions. She isn’t in a Europe. She is scared. She is sad. She doesn’t want to be here anymore.

Im tired of being this sad gracey. When do I get to be her? The person I truly am?

[graceygabs]

Okay but don’t you ever get tired of being sad and livin but not in a suicdal way? Like you just wish you could leave your life on earth for a break and then come back? And sleep isn’t enough

[graceygabs]

“i don’t wanna die, i sometimes wish i’d never been born at all” remains the rawest fucking lyric in the history of music thanks freddie

[graceygabs]

its not fair. when the fuck do i get to be happy. when the fuck do i get to come out.

[graceygabs]

Old Diary Entries #1

Looking thru some old diary entries and found this fucking gem

Oct 10 2016 12:36am

I want to make an oath to myself from here on out. I have been really hard on myself I think the past few months, maybe even years. I have unrealistic expectations for myself and I think very low of myself. If I do not write everyday, excersise every day, I am too quiet, my friends secretly hate me, I am not pretty, I am 18 and never been kissed, my interests suck, no one wants to be near me. I have this immense fear of the future. I am just so tired of not putting myself first. And I am aware of the way that I treat myself, but I have always said I had to learn to love myself. That is a very long journey. I feel like everyone else is entitled to be them, but I can’t be me because something is wrong. 

When god made me he made me wrong.