honestynhedonismthings

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I actually tried to reach out.

I tried to ask for help.

No one took me seriously

No one answered the phone

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“I keep telling people that I have a poor memory, but is my memory so poor that I’ve forgotten those who loved me?, or just nobody ever did?”

— (via killed-long-ago)

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me: *is left alone with my thoughts for more than two seconds*

me: the suffering begins

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I go through times where all the things I put in boxes and hid away in my mind, come out and attack me.

Today I realised the things I put my body through as a prostitute.

Today I cried until I couldn’t I couldn’t breathe and then some.

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Found out my mum told my sister that she refuses to keep laxatives in her house because of my eating disorder even though I’ve never fucking taken a laxative in my life. My disorder was revolved around binging and purging. Also I’m now 22 and don’t live at home and haven’t since I was 16 and she’s still spouting this bullshit. Was anyone even paying attention to me or just making up bullshit in their heads?

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I really need Disney+ to update their interface. Not just the automatic playing of the next episode but in the time it takes Disney to actually skip the into, I may as well of watching the damn intro

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I really wish someone could see how hard I’m fucking trying

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when I was growing up I was either ignored or yelled at for not being something else. I desperately wanted something that made me special enough to want someone to keep me around. I lied as a kid to seem interesting hoping someone would want me around

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I make platters when people come over or I go somewhere because no one can hate the girl that makes a sick grazing board right?

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One thing I haven’t been able to give up since stopping being a escort is getting my nails done.

I don’t like to call him my pimp but yes I had a pimp and part of the ‘rules’ was we always had to have our nails done.

I’m a painter, a baker, home maker and general Macgyver. I use my hands a lot plus I’m always scratching myself so having nice nails never appealed to me but ever since then I haven’t been able to give up my nails

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I wish I knew why I had these absolute lows

Just a constant humm of voices telling me go to bed, cry till you can’t breathe, they don’t want you around, quit before they can fire you, you’re a loser

Please go away

[honestynhedonismthings]

Questions for my disorder

How in the fuck am I supposed be a functioning adult? 

How am I supposed to get up in the morning and put my makeup on if my disorder is screaming at me to end it all? 

How am I supposed to handle a customer that’s super difficult and rude to me when their actions have me in tears in the workplace? 

How do I handle a panic attack that won’t stop until I physically leave the environment that’s causing it? 

How do I maintain a healthy work relationship with my manager when I’m having to call in sick at least once a week because of my disorder?

How do I explain that I’m not an irresponsible flake, I’d rather be at work earning money then in my bed crying? 

How do I go out with my friends when I can’t make it longer than an hour before the voices are too loud that I need to go home? 

Please literally anyone tell me how the fuck I’m supposed to get on with my normal adult life, paying bills, eating 3 meals a day, getting 8 hours sleep, going to work every day. How does it work when you have a disorder that punishes you for trying to do your best. 

People say push through but how am I supposed to when the anxiety causes me so much nausea that I continuously throw up until I leave the environment or my bladder says hell nah and makes me pee my pants even though I went to the toilet 6 times before leaving the house.

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I often wonder what it would be like to tell my friends, my family, anyone really, the truth. 

the truth about my disorder 

the truth about my past 

the truth about who I am now

I’m always wearing my mask with people. I wonder what it would be like not to put it on in the morning 

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Would love to know if other former sex workers have a hard time going back to ‘normal’ 

I don’t leave my house anymore and when I do I have to be fully covered otherwise I panic and I usually only end up spending no more than 2 hours outside. I feel so exposed and at risk. not just my physical appearance but also hanging out with people. Having family members say ‘welcome to the real world’ little do they know I’ve put myself in literal life threatening situations just to pay the bills. 

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Entrance into sex work

I became an escort to pay to keep my eggs frozen, I’d been told previously that it was my only option if I was to have any hope of having a biological family one day and even though my great grandparents had left me some money, it wasn’t enough to keep the eggs frozen for as long as I needed. With living out of home and studying, I was losing cash fast and got scared about having to destroy my eggs. I went without food and all the basics to try an afford to keep them frozen before but it wasn’t enough and so it started with some sugar baby dates where I’d go for dinner and drinks and talk, it escalated as I met people, I started working phones for an escort and before I knew It, I was one. It was so important to me that I get to be a mum one day that I put myself at great risk and it was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Chad is fully aware of everything as we have no secrets. At one point in our lives I was hiding this from him and he did find out from someone else. I’m actually grateful they had the balls to do something I didn’t. For a little bit, I would start up a conversation every night and tell myself I was going to tell him the truth but I chickened out every time. That was another mistake, when we sat down and talked through everything and over the many conversations we’ve had since, I realised I should have just told him what was going on because  he already knew, he waited for me to tell him and now we have open communication and we laugh about it and joke about it and I know he loves me regardless. Whilst it was a horrible time and I do regret my decisions, I know my thinking at the time was that I was doing the right thing. I wasn’t ready to give up on the possibility of being a mum, I should have just talked to Chad about it, he was more understanding than I probably deserved but that’s just more of why he’s my soul mate. He’s knows everything and he loves me for exactly who I am. Flaws and all.

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Hell and Back

I’d already been through the wringer. I suffered from a case of sepsis which I found out later was caused by a cut I’d received while having my new mirena inserted. I was getting a new mirena inserted after earlier in the year falling pregnant with a unviable embryo, meaning it wasn’t implanted in my uterus. I miscarried that pregnancy, it was never viable to begin with but it hurt just as much to lose it. It was later discovered I’d fallen pregnant because the mirena I’d had in at the time was dislodged and actually broken, hence getting it replaced when I found out. The most shocking thing wasn’t even the mirena saga, it’s the fact that after my ectopic pregnancy, I’d spent a lot of time and money on doctors who all told me that it was very unlikely I would ever conceive naturally. The sepsis was caught early because being a medical student, I know to keep my own records, and was able to help my doctors retrace my steps and figure out how what could be causing me to be so sick as it was an unusual type of sick for me. I’ve been through a lot in my life, I know my body and I know when something isn’t right. Fast forward to post recovery and you’re being helpful and nice and its familiar and we fell into old patters and slept together.. more than once.. A mistake really but when emotions are running high, sometimes you lose control. It stops anyway, we stop talking. I’m doing well, I’m being a teenager for the first time in my life and everything is sorta normal. I missed my period. I never miss my period. I took 12 pregnancy tests and threw out my pack of smokes after taking the first one. I was pregnant. Scared shitless and pregnant. You’re the only person I’ve had unprotected sex with. I couldn’t believe it. After the miscarriage, I double checked with the doctors again and they still said I’d never have a viable pregnancy and here I was, pregnant, with my ex boyfriend’s child when we’re both finally moving on. I spent that night at the hospital. Shortly after finding out I was pregnant I began to have pains in my stomach, I assumed it was anxiety and ignored it for a few hours until the pain got worse and I feared this pregnancy was ectopic as the pain was so similar to that of an ectopic pregnancy and having already had surgery for that when I was 16, I wasn’t ready to do that again. After a few hours and tests at the hospital, I was free to go home and Chad bought me dinner and I cried. I instantly knew you wouldn’t believe me. You were always in denial about things that were right in front of you. The biggest being that we weren’t good together, the second being that Chad and I are the same person basically. You were stalking my private Tumblr blog, as you were known to do. That’s how you found out I was pregnant. I’d written a journal entry about the whole thing and you messaged me accusing me of lying and came to my house to confront me. I had evidence waiting though, I knew you. Everything I said had to come with evidence when we were together so I knew I had to be especially prepared this time. You’d already accused me of lying in the previous unviable pregnancy; even after I took a pregnancy test with you right there, even after you followed me to the pregnancy advisory centre and accused me of not having an appointment, records confirm I did. You came to my house and I gave you my ultrasounds, the 12 pregnancy tests, the discharge letter from the hospital and a pregnancy record book signed and dated from my GP, you still thought it was bullshit. I was devastated and done with the conversation. I was strong. Until I got sick. I had hyperemesis which is morning sickness on steroids and I’d had it the entire time I was pregnant. For 8 weeks I couldn’t drink or eat. Every day I would try and take a prenatal vitamin because I hadn’t decided and I wanted to do but I wanted to do what was right until I had, but every single day it would come back up and I would cry at my own body hating me. My own body had been against me from the very beginning and it killed me. During those weeks you would ask me to come with you to McDonalds and you would sit there and tell me it’s over with her and you want to be with me but we can’t have a child right now. You sat there and told me you loved me and we would be together and have a family the right way but I had to get a termination now.  I tried so hard to be strong but I always ended up in tears which made me that much more tired. I could barely stay upright as it was. I was so nauseous, every day I thought I’d pass out trying to get to the bathroom. Chad used to come home during his lunch breaks to find me laying feotal position crying in exhaustion because the nausea meant I never slept, anger for you trying to manipulating me, hunger, sadness, but probably worst of all was the the all consuming love I felt for the baby inside me. I’d been told it wasn’t possible. All I’d ever wanted was to be a mum and there were so many obstacles in the way but there she was, innocent in all of this. Perfect. But you didn’t care. She was your obstacle, she was an inconvenience to you and that made you determined to get what you wanted. I most likely would have come to that decision anyway because right now I can’t imagine having a family with anyone else except for Chad, he’s my soul mate. The problem I have is that the decision wasn’t mine. It was a manipulation. I can’t come to terms with what happened because I know I didn’t make that decision for myself. I respect her memory every single day and every single decision I’ve made since has been so one day I’ll be ready for her. That day you took me to the pregnancy advisory centre, I couldn’t fight anymore, I’d given in to your manipulation. I was so tired and sore and hurt, I needed you to take care of me, you’d been in my life for so long and I momentarily forgot everything else, in that moment I just needed you to make it okay. It was only supposed to be an initial consultation. I’d been there before, I knew the drill. I knew in the back of my head I still had a little time for a sign from the universe, something that would tell me it’s okay and I’d be at peace with it because it would have been my decision. But they had a cancelation and of course I’d already been fasting, I hadn’t eaten for weeks. It was happening too fast and you were right there looking so happy that there was no way out. I couldn’t tell you no and that I needed more time. We both know how that would have gone down. All of a sudden there’s a nurse putting an IV in my arm and I’m crying asking for you but you’re not there. I’m all alone. And before I know it, she’s taken from me. Sucked from me with a medical vacuum cleaner like she’s nothing but she was my everything. And I’m awake and I’m still crying for you, I’m yelling at nurses to get you but it’s like they can’t hear me, begging them to bring you here, trying to get up and not being able to feel my legs. Watching people walk past me like nothing happened and I have nothing to be upset about because I came here, you didn’t put a gun to my head. It was a different type of gun and it was pointing at my heart and when she was taken from me I had nothing. Eventually someone brought me out to see you and I can’t believe what I’ve done. I’m crying and you told me you loved me, I didn’t know it would be for the last time. I had no idea just how alone I really was. She was gone, and the next day so were you.

And it’s really only because of Chad that I’ve come out on the other side better than ever. Instead of putting the pieces back together for me, he gave me the time and understanding I needed to put myself back together in a new way and become a better person. Have I made mistakes, fuck yes, but who hasn’t. I can’t regret a single second of it because it’s all what got me to now and I’m the best version of myself right now. I never thought I’d actually make it to 21 and here I am and I actually want to be here. For me.

[honestynhedonismthings]

Evolved Stoner Thoughts

16.06.2020 - You’re asked to rate your pain on a scale of one to ten. It’s the standard measure for pain in an emergency setting. But how stupid is that when pain is subjective? One persons ten could be another persons two. You don’t know how much pain that person is in unless you are them, experiencing it first hand. Furthermore, as humans are designed to evolve, so does their pain threshold. A two year olds worst pain describable may be twenty year olds negative ten on the scale. Pain isn’t a competition. Trauma isn’t a competition. Support doesn’t mean talking over one another seeing who has the worst life and the others should be more grateful. The only accurate way to understand pain, to understand trauma, to truly be there in support of one another is empathy. Take a second and pretend their life is your life, how would the pain feel if you had their experiences, their mind.

I don’t have all the answers but I’m willing to start with empathy.