illicitjoy

[illicitjoy]

maybe in another universe i didn’t loose my preteen years to my mental illness’.

maybe in another lifetime i didn’t loose my teen years to my mental health.

maybe in another timeline i didn’t waste my entire fucking life to my mental issues.

maybe in another life i could’ve been normal.

[illicitjoy]

happy super late birthday to me.

2024 has thrown me through the worst roller coaster of my life. starting with my parents getting divorced to getting fired from my job, my girlfriend having heart surgery and being put on the lovely little pill (deletus fetus), but guess who is still alive, this fucking 21 year old.

16 year old me would be so fucking confused lol. now. here is what i’ve learned in my 21 years. i hope you can learn a few things.

1 it always gets better. it may take forever. but it always gets better.

2 be nice to people - you don’t know their struggles.

3 tell everyone you love them all the time.

4 you can’t force people to be on the same wavelength as you.

5 everyone is on their own time line.

6 work hard but don’t let it consume you.

7 life isn’t fair, but it’s still good.

8 save at least 100 dollars; weather it’s for a tattoo or an emergency vet bill.

9 take nothing for granted.

10 take all the pictures.

11 write notes. for education or love.

12 always write new year’s resolutions.

13 BPD is one of the hardest mental illnesses to live with.

14 get all the tattoos and piercings, swag is forever.

15 it’s never too late to start over.

16 don’t keep working that job you hate just because it “makes you cooler.”

17 being queer won’t be the end of you.

18 always have a safety plan

19 wear the slutty rave clothes

20 make all the playlists for every mood

21 don’t go drink for drink with someone that’s three years older than you.

cheers to twenty one years.

[illicitjoy]

i am rotting.

some people say it’s okay to have days where you just rot, it helps you rejuvenate yourself and get going for tomorrow, but i’m rotting every day. i am laying in bed, rotting. i work and i rot. i don’t remember the last time i did something for myself.

i used to have days where i would go full aesthetic self care. i would do a full shower, tan, face mask, feel soft and smooth and clean. i would clean for myself, i would walk for myself, i would work for myself, i would do things for myself, now. i am a 20 year old rotting in bed. anxious and can’t get up. not even doom scrolling. i lay face down in my pillows for hours, and i’m sick of it. i’m sick of rotting letting my brain get ahead of my body and just rot.

i wish i was 16 again. the love for my first job even though i hated it, it wasn’t just for a paycheck, i was enjoying myself. i was putting an effort for my education and my body. i was working out, eating, i was enjoying hanging out with my friends. i was doing something all the time. now. i am just rotting, and it’s not a “lazy day” where i watch shows and am comfortable and not doing anything. i am physically not doing anything. i am barely breathing. all of my energy is just going towards being at least a little okay, just staying awake.

i just want to stop rotting away.

[illicitjoy]

tw: you know, suicide and SA

“life is just really hard sometimes”

i feel like i’m saying that more often than not lately.

when i go to my psychiatrist i say i don’t want to be dead i just want to be gone, to take a break because life is just really hard sometimes.

when my loved ones ask if i’m okay, life is just really hard sometimes.

if i ask myself if i’m okay and need help, life is just really hard sometimes.

life is just really hard sometimes. life really fucking sucks sometimes. i just want to just pause and just be a snail sometimes. life sucks in car accidents and people getting sexually assaulted. life sucks in pain and anger. life just really sucks sometimes.

i really want to enjoy life and i’ve been trying to be happy about the little things like going out and hanging out with my friends and having a somewhat clean room, there are still some spots i need to do, and just do little things for myself but nothing is really sparking joy for me anymore.

i just want something to spark joy for me.

but life is just really hard sometimes.

[illicitjoy]

being an adult is really weird.

i have been working my ass off these past few weeks and it’s the most “adult” i’ve felt. like i got a dog when i was 16 and that felt big, but these past few weeks will never amount to that.

i got my license (finally!) and applied for a lone for the car, applied and am in pre-employment for a job that i am lowkey scared of and i’ve needed to get my bls, get a drug test, pre-employment bullshit, all that good stuff, and it’s all overwhelming but so amazing.

i need to figure out a budget, a cleaning schedule (mom’s request), and so much more, and i am just soaking it all up.

being 20 and feeling behind on some things (college, marriage, babies) can be a downer sometimes but realizing that everyone is on their own timeline and you’re just thriving in your own success can really help with that.

i am thriving in my own success and that is a little weird when you didn’t think you were going to make it this far, but cheers to everyone who didn’t think they were going to make it no matter what age, and cheers to so many more.

the fact that i’ve lived for two decades is crazy (and dating my girlfriend for half a decade.) i am still struggling, but i am going to be where i want to be, and i am going to be happy.

i am determined to be a happy adult, i am doing this for my depressed early teen and teen me. i want to show her that there are reasons to be alive and that life can be exciting and exhausting and amazing.

cheers to being a happy adult.

because i have so much more to live and love.

[illicitjoy]

tw: rape.

sometimes i want to delete some of the things that i’ve said because it doesn’t apply to me in that moment, but then i remember how mad i am when i remember that i have deleted pictures of friends i used to have or rip pages out of journals because i didn’t want to read them again and i thought i would never want to read them again, and sometimes it’s nice to see how you’ve grown and remember that i have changed.

i feel like my whole world is flipping in front of me. my girlfriend hasn’t had a good best friend, from what i understand, ever, and she has an amazing best friend and right now but she doesn’t know what to think. i think she’s falling in love with her and learning what she can have, and that i can’t give her everything she needs. her best friend is attentive, caring, loves touch. constantly hugging, playing with her hair, cuddling, everything that i don’t do. i’ve been raped multiple times and i really struggle with touch and i don’t thrive off touch, at least i thought, i crave her touch. i want her to play with my hair. i want to cuddle her, i want her to cuddle me. i want to do everything with her. her best friend is everything she could ever want, and i’m just a mental mess.

i had a manic episode and broke up with her, but i’ve never really told anyone why. i told her last night but i think she thinks i’m just making up excuses. i broke up with her because i didn’t want her to see me like that and i didn’t want to hurt her more. which is an excuse but it’s not cause i hated her or wanted to hurt her. i wanted to protect her. we were having a hard time and i needed to protect myself too. i didn’t want to be hurt or abandoned, and i didn’t want it to go worse.

she is changing her ways, and trying to not be mad if i get called into work. and saying i don’t have to take my meds if i don’t want to. she’s saying that she’s holding me back and that she wants me to grow and that i need to go out and do my own thing. and i know that trick. i know all of these tricks. she’s trying to make this my idea, and make me think that that this is what i want. but i don’t want that. i don’t want this. i don’t want a test. i just want her.

but, i know that i am going to get hurt. i know she’s going to fall for her and say that she needs a break to figure out what she wants, and it’s going to hurt so bad. i am going to be alone. she’s going to start testing waters and see that her best friend is what she wants, and it is. i thought that we were doing so well, and that we were perfect. that she was happy with me. but she’s not.

but i’m going to soak up what i can and just appreciate what i have left. she’s my person, and i’m going to hold on to what i can for as long as i can.

and i’m going to pretend that i’m not scared of the end.

but i’m terrified.

and i am so hurt inside.

[illicitjoy]

you want to know what’s rough?

having to depend your whole being on a little white pill.

having to take that pill or you’re erratic and crazy. can’t control your anger. your self sabotage and harm. that damn little white pill.

i went to the psychiatrist about two years ago now, and i felt relief and pain. there was relief in knowing that everything that i had done and said, was a chemical imbalance in my head. (not to use it as an excuse.) knowing that there was something i could do to control all of this.

and then, there was pain. so much pain. the number of milligrams that went up every two weeks to help me from being absolutely crazy. the side effects. obscene drowsiness, never hungry, bleeding, bloody noses, depression from hell, unstable balance. everyone being terrified of you the second you said you forgot to take your meds. walking on eggshells around you. not keeping you in the loop because they were worried you would act out.

the numbness. you are so numb all the time. no emotion just numb and tired, but at least you aren’t manic. at least you’re not angry, scaring everyone, from the threats and violence that come out of you when you see red.

but i also can’t see in the dark, the second someone turns off a light switch, i drop to the ground. and everyone thinks it’s funny and quirky, but my body hurts so bad from the fight or flight that was triggered. i can’t get up in the morning. i just want to sleep, and i’m just like a fucking zombie. i try to stand up from bed and i’m going back down if i stand up too fast, and stairs. you’re funny if you think you can run down those again. you will loose balance and you will break something, my psychiatrist told me to sit down and slide down the stairs if i could walk them. i live in a town house. there are five different flights of stairs.

but i’m not manic. i’m controllable. don’t get me wrong. i hate myself for everything i did when i was manic, and if i could i would go back and slap myself across the face. it has helped me realize the kind of help i need, and no, praying is not the answer, i’ve already tried that.

i just wish sometimes i could feel what a normal person feels for like five minutes, but at this point in my life i feel like it would be so overwhelming.

i don’t really know where i was going with all of this, i just wanted to mostly complain about a pill that i have to take for the rest of my life.

that damn little white pill.

fuck having a chemically unbalanced brain.

[illicitjoy]

i feel like everyone has a vibe to them. you can have your own vibe that you’ve given yourself and people can say that it’s “cliche” or “cringey” but, that’s the only form of identity i have for myself.

don’t get me wrong sometimes it’s nice to change it up when i wear clothes or how i act, but sometimes you just want to be you. and i don’t know who “you” is for me.

but i do believe i have a vibe. i feel like i’m the mood that you get when you’re driving with your windows down when it’s pouring outside, blasting small town folk music. big loud booming thunderstorms, lightning, warm rain. rainy days with candles and fairy lights. a mossy green, mushroom brown and a darkish mustard orange. depressing but calming.

this is the one thing i have known about myself, and i know it’s changed through the years of who i’ve felt in my soul, but this time, it has stuck within me. i’m okay with being known as depressing but calming. when i’m having a panic attack and everyone tells me to go to my happy place, i think of me, with a book, a good smelling candle, pouring outside, clean room, flannel pants, big comfy sweatshirt, no stress, just calm within me.

i love rain. it makes me feel calm and i feel like it could just wash away all my problems. warm rain, absolutely pouring to the point there is a weather warning for flooding.

i can’t wait till i have my own home, with my children and my wife, my best friend coming over and all the kids yelling that they want to go play in the rain. we go out, dance, play, lay in the rain. me and my happy little life. we’ll have big windows all throughout the house watching the rain pour while we’re all changing from being soaked. the kids will be laughing saying that it’s the best day of their life, exhausted from the rain.

i love when you’re camping and it starts to rain at night and we hurry and get in our tents, and just lay in our sleeping bags and listen to the rain. get all cuddled and close with our person and just lay there. taking it all in with no service,

lots of people say that dark rainy days ruin their mood. it’s the happiest i’ve been in days. i get to feel peace and actually feel something.

sometimes the most depressing things, have the biggest beauty.

depressing but calming is a vibe, and it’s my vibe.

[illicitjoy]

her.

i know when you think of “her” you think of your significant other, but this time “her” is my best friend.

i don’t know what it is about her, but she’s her, and i’m falling in love with it. now i don’t know if it’s in love or love love but i feel something rooted inside me for her. i am falling in love with my best friend.

i would like to explain that i haven’t lost the love for my girlfriend, i am so in love with her and i always will, but she doesn’t have my whole heart anymore. my girlfriend has hurt me with her word’s lately and my best friend only has good things to say to me.

yesterday i threw myself into a panic attack and i called her because i was worried about her, the call wasn’t supposed to be about me, but that didn’t matter. she could tell i was upset. i couldn’t even walk up my stairs i lost all motivation for everything, and she told me that she loved and cared about me. that she was proud of me. how beautiful i was. telling me that i’ve been over working myself and that we’re going to have a good weekend, and all i could think about was how i’m starting to have feelings for her.

i went upstairs after my lovely come apart on the stairs and my girlfriend was frustrated with me for some reason and it just kinda threw me back into what i was feeling. i was still talking to my best friend and i just started disassociating, and every. single. time. i looked back, she was staring at me with this look that gave me butterflies. she’s starting flirt with me more, and i can’t tell if she secretly means it or if that’s just how we mess around.

the way she holds me, says she misses me, how she hypes me up, the way we fall to sleep together, how safe she makes me feel. just all of her. she is all kinds of beautiful, gorgeous but she’s also smart, funny, caring. just her. all of her. and it makes me fall so hard i land on my face. she makes me feel i way i haven’t felt in a very long time.

i know when you grow with relationships, sometimes you get a little sick of each other, and my girlfriend and i have been together since we were fifteen, but she is having a hard time with my mental health, and just seems sick of me.

i don’t know if it’s the bpd five year old me that just wants to be loved and wants all the attention in the world, but the way my best just holds me and tells me that everything will be okay in the world, i believe her.

i just want to feel wanted again. i don’t feel wanted by my girlfriend, so i’m finding it in other places.

my bpd is getting the best of me.

but my best friend is her.

just her.

[illicitjoy]

tw: are you surprised? suicide and SH

do you know why tumblr is the best?

at least to me?

nobody uses it. my family never thinks to stalk me on tumblr. i could say whatever i want and just rant every thought i could ever think of. i love the community guidelines. i mean this app used to be all porn in middle school and high school so it’s a little better, but i talk about how bad my mental health is and it’s like my own little journal, just for me.

i feel like everyone just judge me for how shitty my mental health is and how i just want to die and hurt myself to feel some peace. i feel like i don’t have a hard enough life to be this depressed. i feel like i don’t deserve to feel this bad.

i don’t know if that’s to give me some closure, or if it just helps me deal so i can actually get out of bed and be an actual adult. if i could i would stay in bed and just stare at a wall with all my thoughts or just sleep my life away, but that’s not how life works. or at least not mine.

tumblr is great to just express how i’m feeling and go back and read how dramatic i was in the post. it helps to just let go. it’s also really nice for when i have to go to my psychiatrist and i have all these notes about how pitiful and depressed i am.

now, let’s talk about how bad i’m hurting inside to see if it’ll relieve some pressure on my brain before i have some kind of brain bleed or something.

i want to die. plan and simple, but not. i also want to live. (can you see where i’m struggling here?) if i could have a death that wasn’t painful to me or anyone around me i probably would. if i could just be gone and it didn’t hurt anyone, i would be gone. but, i want to get married, have kids, be terrified of the kids because, i never wanted kids. i want to feel joy, but i don’t know if i ever will, and that makes me want to disappear. (it’s the whole failure to thrive depression thing.)

tumblr is so great to just breathe, and not have someone find a random notebook in my room and read it and be like “oh shit, she needs to go on a grippy sock vacation.” even though both doctors and myself agree it wouldn’t be a bad idea. but i’ll never go. i can’t leave my friends and girlfriend. i don’t know if my girlfriend could handle it.

she’s told me multiple times that if i went manic and broke up with her again (i don’t remember what exactly happened because i was manic, but i know it happened at some point) she wouldn’t come back. she couldn’t handle it. and that my depression is a downer and that every time i raise my voice she’s “preparing to be broken up with” and “it’s just triggering to her” because i have a mental disorder that is very hard to control, but i’m doing it. she’s told me that she would never want to be my favorite person because it’s “overwhelming and overbearing.” she has great parts of her, but sometimes i feel like i have to be perfect and not break or else she’ll leave me and i’ll be a scared five year old again.

the best part of tumblr is knowing that if anyone found your blog.. you would be dead, because either your killed yourself or your mom killed you. it’s a fun gamble. see who wins first.

you also want to know what’s a fun gamble. how deep you can cut yourself before you start bubbling. from what i learned you’ve got about a 1/4 of an inch before you’re stitching yourself up because you can’t admit to anyone else that you relapsed. now you accidentally go 3/4 or an inch, you’ll learn you have white blood. and that is the most terrifying thing you could do to yourself. i’ve been clean for a little over a year and four months, and my scars are fading. you thought fresh cuts were triggering? imagine how i feel with no scars. all the pain and release i did to myself for years? gone. and that’s the most triggering thing. another fun one! when your friends say that they cut themselves and when they do normal human things, they break open. why can you cut, and i can’t? how is that fair? i just want to feel some kind of release.

i am in pain.

and i read this over and over again trying to find peace.

but i’m in pain.

thank you tumblr for being my out, because i would be judged for everything i just said.

this is why tumblr is the best app.

[illicitjoy]

having a favorite person is hard.

dealing with bpd in my life has been difficult for me with the random mood swings, attachments and setting up “tests” for your loved ones, and then realizing what you did, and don’t get me started on the compulsive lying.

i didn’t think i had a favorite person. i was equally attached to everyone. i have finally “gotten over” my favorite person from middle school and high school, and i can never explain why he was my favorite person. my best guess was he gave me all the attention five year old me could ever want.

i was a glass child growing up, which is inevitable when you have a sibling with special needs and a blended family where you only see your step siblings a handful of times. when they were home, it was all about them. and i understood that as a child, but sometimes i just wanted to be held and told that everything would be okay in the world.

but in middle school, something switched in me, and all hell broke loose. i have a whole cookie jar (that’s what i call my problems, kinda makes me giggle) i have bipolar disorder, bpd, cpstd, chronic anxiety, intrusive ocd and failure to thrive depression. and that’s only my mental crap. i have diabetes and celiac’s disease and that’s another fun story.

in middle school was when the manic episodes decided to flick to 4WD and hit petal to the fucking medal. i was drinking and getting high anytime i could. skipping class. getting arrested. screaming at my mom. never sleeping. failing all my classes. and meeting my first boyfriend. my favorite person.

he was everything you could ever want in a perfect boyfriend. obsessive, jealous, way to high of a sex drive for a fucking middle school child. oh, and also abusive, a biastophilla (tw rape if you look it up), and would spam your phone with death threats, or suicide threats. would follow you home, break into said home, and you know, do things that a biastophilla would do. a girls dream.

and now your thinking, “girl, why would you do that to yourself?” i’ll tell you a few reasons. 1. i was manic 86% and i loved self sabotage. 2. your girl loves some good ass obsessive attention. 3. i felt like i couldn’t be alone. this was one of the lowest points of my life, and i just wanted someone to love me, and i that’s how i thought i deserved to be loved.

this went on and kinda off (he never really left me alone) for FOUR YEARS, and even a little after that. i would be terrified, block him, hide from him, have my friends protect me if he came charging. but sometimes i would get a little less sleep than usual and i would go manic, unblock him, text him something like “you grown yet?” and it was start all over again. it was a painful vicious cycle, but that’s what i deserved in my mind.

i felt like an absolute bitch when i told my girlfriend that she was not my favorite person, and she told me that she would never want to be my favorite person. that it was too obsessive and jealous, and could sometimes be scary. immediately i felt like the biggest red flag in history.

i have a friend right now that’s really struggling, and the way my girlfriend talks about them, hits a trigger. saying, “she lives six minutes away from work. how is she always late? i understand that she can’t get herself out of bed but at least get up enough to get dressed and work on time.” and “she wouldn’t be in this position if she wasn’t dating xxxx.” and i understand. i deeply and truly understand where my friend is in their life. and how hard that is. and it makes me overthink, “what if this is what she thinks of me?” “what if she thinks i’m over dramatic.” “what if she thinks i should just deal and get over it.” and it hurts me, and makes me hurt for my friend.

now you’re probably thinking “hun, who’s your new favorite person.” buckle in darlin. my favorite person is my best friend, and when i tell you i’m obsessed, it’s a fucking problem. she could tell me, “i’m in love with you, marry me.” damn looks like we’re going to the chapel, let’s go. “quit your job.” i walked out babe, what we doing now? “come to me.” bitch i don’t know how to drive but i’m flooring it in a car that i stole. now, part of it could definitely be that i need more sleep and to up my meds, but you can’t really medicate this away.

if she’s upset, boom i’m upset. she depressed, damn looks like we dying together. won’t text me back? she hates me, i should kill myself. this is the problem with favorite people. i also don’t have my own personality. she likes dark hair, i’m dying my hair. she’s a country aesthetic? yehaw mother fucker.

just know if someone you love has a favorite person, just try and be supportive because they will cut you out of their life so fast if you don’t approve. you can try talking to them, and maybe getting them some help, but just be patient. and if you can’t handle it explain it nicely. they are in a vulnerable state. their fight or flight will be triggered.

bpd is one of the hardest conditions to live with. you’re constantly fighting with yourself. you hurt. it’s so mentally and physically draining. just be patient. maybe get them a therapist, and breathe. everything will be okay, and if it’s not, you are allowed to get yourself out of a scary situation.

it’s about the other people around the person with bpd too. it’s hard to be with or be around someone with bpd, just try talking and expect an outburst. they’re just a five years old that’s terrified and wants someone to love them.

i am five years old, scared and just want to be loved. i want to be told that everything will be okay in the world, and just to breathe.

[illicitjoy]

tw: self harm, suicide attempts, rape, alcohol, nicotine and all the things that trigger panic attacks. rated M for mature.

sometimes, i just want to feel something.

now, you can take that how ever you want. you could use all five senses if you wanted to, or you could think about how emotionless you are lately, but i just want to feel something.

i want to feel things that no one would want to live through or think about ever again. i want to feel pain, because that’s all i think i’m truly worth feeling.

i want to get high and feel like i can’t breathe because i have cotton mouth for the first time. i want the silly laughs that you didn’t even know could come out of you. i want to feel the unbearable tingles when someone touches you and feel like you could just kiss them if they looked at you long enough. i want the red, bloodshot eyes and the stupid “do i look sober” selfies.

i want the loudest, booming thunderstorm. i want to lay in the rain like the first time i realized that i had depression. feeling like it’s the only way for you to wash away everything. i want the thunder that shakes your entire being so hard, it feels like a factory reset. i want to beg my mom to go outside so i can play in the rain.

i want to drag a blade across my skin for the first time and feel the release when i see the blood pooling up. i want the pain of showering and how bad it burns with fresh cuts. i want the scars that i trace over with markers, and promise myself i will never do it again. i want to feel the pain and shame when i relapse.

i want to feel my first anxiety attack. the bawling, screaming, crying so hard to feels like i just ran ten miles. i want to be in a corner, looking at all my demons, wondering if i’ll ever make it through this. i want to fight for my breath, hyperventilating.

i want to go to my first high school dance again. pregaming before or else i’d have a panic attack thinking everyone was staring at me. i want my friends hyping me up saying a look great, even though i will never believe them. i want the loud rush of music blasting my ears because i got a little too tipsy before.

i want my first hit of nicotine again. feel the head rush. the feeling of needing more because it kept things quiet for a moment. the way i felt when i got nic sick and felt like i was going to throw up my guts. the feeling of getting my first own vape. picturing i’m letting go of all my pain in the vapor.

i want to feel how i felt when i first tried to commit suicide. the pain and agony of feeling so alone. the way my stomach felt when i tried poison myself. the way i wished i wouldn’t die from this and that i’ve changed my mind. calling my dad, saying i fucked up and i need help. the way he cried on the phone saying to hold on and that he was coming to save me. feeling the hope that it would get better.

i want to feel the way i did when i slid down the back of my ex-boyfriends bathroom door, while he was trying to kick it in so that he could get to me. feeling like i had no way out and how this was how love was supposed to be. that this is how i was meant to be loved.

i want the fear and pain of being raped for the first time. crying, not being able to scream from the shock to your body. feeling yourself tensing so hard that you feel like your teeth were going shatter. feeling like you could just die, but not being able to stop your heart. the pain of him getting off of you and telling you that this was your fault. it was your fault that you had “teased” him like this.

i want to feel pain, because lord knows, i fail to feel joy. i want to feel anything but this numb stupid dark hole that i’m in. i will take all the pain and suffering i have ever had to face in a pill, if it means i can feel something besides this numbness.

depression is hard to live with. it’s hard to breath with. it’s hard to see with. it’s hard to hear with. it’s hard to feel with. it’s hard, but i know one day i will get my stupid brain to cooperate with me, and i will be able to find joy.

but until then, i will take my pain in a pill please, because i need to feel something.

[illicitjoy]

tw: suicide

a letter to myself.

don’t let the trigger warning scare you, it’s not a suicide letter to myself.

if i could write a letter to myself and have the universe regift it to me whenever they thought ready, i don’t really know what i would say. i know it would depend on the focus emotion i was in at that time. “life is great, your growing” “ life is weird and scary” “ it’ll get better” “it’ll get worse…” you to yourself, what the hell would i say.

i’ve been 20 for ten days and it seems like my life is kind of falling at the seams, but i can’t tell if it’s stress or self sabotage. but whatever it is, it sucks. i wish i could say i planned myself a better future, that i wanted to be somewhere different in life. but i guess that’s the best part of being depressed super young. i didn’t set any expectations for my older self. no room for disappointment.

i had a point in my life where i couldn’t even see the next day, next hour, next minute, next second. every extra second i breathed, hurt my entire soul. i pained me to live another half second. i still have those days. the funny thing about living with bpd (not including all my other cookies in my cookie jar) is you feel like you only have one emotion, and your stuck with it. you only get that one emotion, those few thoughts, and sometimes it’s scary. actually most of the time it’s scary.

i wrote so many suicide letters, i could’ve wrote a book, but they all have the same gist of things. “i’m sorry, i love you, don’t let this cause you any pain, i am happier.” and that. is bullshit. i wouldn’t of been happier, i would be dead. dead people don’t have emotions, and i am almost certain, you wouldn’t of ever been able to find peace. i would still love everyone, but how would i been able to show it. i wouldn’t. i would’ve been dead. “don’t let this cause you any pain.” hun. you’ve been through this. you know the pain, don’t tell someone to “not let it cause you any pain.” it fucking hurts. “i’m happier” how would you know? i don’t want to talk about getting married, having babies, living life with with the person you love. while all of that is great looking forward to, i want to remind myself that i also want to be living for me too.

i have been living for everyone else my entire life. not me, that caused me too much pain. while that does work, sometimes it’s nice to remind yourself, why you are living for you.

my letter, to myself. past. present. and future:

hey you.

how’s life? hard? great? numb? all great feelings, because you know what. they’re feelings. you’re feeling things. i would like to remind you why things are so great to feel, touch, know.

you are your own soul, yay! you have a soul. you can feel your body pop and feel relief. you can stretch like your four years old again and feel your body. you can wiggle your toes. dance to music, feel the music. you can feel your body. your own body. it’s yours.

you can hear laughter, feel joy, make inside jokes. you can make a playlist that makes you happy. delete it. make a new one. start over again. you can rearrange your room, get new clothes. reorganize your room, disorganize your room. redecorate, or start bare. sleep in a bed, get warm and cozy. watch a movie. write in a journal, tear the journal, burn the journal.

you can drive with the windows down, drive till you can’t anymore. listen to music, all the way up, till you can’t hear anything but you singing along. get some car buddies, go on nowhere drives. walk. walk all around. put some headphones in, music.

you can dance in the warm rain. run, lay, feel the rain fall on your face. get soaked, take a nice warm shower and think about how you felt in the rain. think about how nice it was to feel bliss. listen to the rain fall on the cement, smell the wet concrete, look at the gloomy grey sky and feel bliss.

you can look and watch all the beautiful things. beautiful sky’s. beautiful people, beautiful animals, beautiful feelings. beautiful life.

beautiful life. it can be scary and hard and feel like no know where to go. but you’re here. breathing, living, laughing, crying, screaming. you are here in this beautiful life.

you feel like it’s almost over; it’s just begun…

;

[illicitjoy]

my new year’s resolutions

i suck at these. i make them thinking that i am going to keep going to keep track, but it is really fun to see how i’ve grown. so, here’s to 2023.

change careers

invest in your education

become more organized

take on a special project

make time for self care

use a planner

try manifesting

plan a trip

make a wish list

read a book a month

i feel like ten, is a good number? i feel like i can manage ten.

there are a couple more that i should probably have on there, but, i’m scared lol.

i am making a separate list that’s like “extra credit” just to make me feel horrible if i don’t get them done, because, y’know, motivation?

get your drivers license (yes, i’m almost 20 and don’t have a drivers license. i don’t want to hear it)

budget some money (i have a horrible spending habit because it makes me feel joy, i need to find joy in other places)

plan more memories (i’m a big memory person and sometimes i forget that)

do the things that make me happy, even if you feel like your coping someone (i’ve always wanted to get into photography, but everyone and their dog do it, but it makes me really happy)

i feel kinda stupid doing this, especially because i start this post and then just stop in the middle because it’s a little overwhelming. but i would like to be happier and i want to be where i want to be in life. especially because i will be 20 in april.

but, here’s to 2023. hopefully it’s better than 2022.