joycomesafterrain

[joycomesafterrain]

This hits too close to home… wish I would have realized this two years ago.

The right one will love you

[joycomesafterrain]

Author’s Note: I’m honestly not expecting anyone to read this. It’s a letter to my ex that verbally and emotionally abused me for 9 months. He will never read it, but I needed to write it. If it brings someone a laugh or insight, I’m glad. It‘s just freeing to send things into the void sometimes. But without further ado:

To The Nitwitted Scumbag It Concerns:

I don’t want to write this. I don’t want to be aware of your existence. If I had my way, I’d never see or speak to you ever again. Unfortunately, our paths will still cross because I refuse to put my life on hold due to a manipulative douchebag. Whoops, did I say that? Could say worse but I’ll keep my dignity even though you have none.

You know how you claimed in the crappy blame-ridden breakup letter that you always had us under control physically? B. S. The amount of times you lied to me telling me you were fine and then kept getting what you wanted while thinking with only your dick was ludicrous. If you don’t know what that word is, Google it. You’re supposed to be a journalist. You make a good one considering you say things you can’t back, spread only the bad things without any of the good, and don’t fix mistakes.

Oh and by the way, the day after breakup, I was on top of the world. It felt so good not to be dating you. My parents were right by the way: You’re an absolute child. The toughest part of the breakup was being upset with myself that I didn’t break up with you sooner.

You claimed to like my personality more than my looks, but per usual, your actions never matched your words. Calling me things like perfection and goddess was not loving... it was putting me on an unrealistic (and horny) pedestal... Especially considering that you found parts of my personality that needed to be fixed and weren’t good enough for you even though you won’t get anyone better. I DO apologize if I sound cocky just because I have actual confidence and know my worth which should never have been put in your hands.

You made me feel like a sex toy, albeit without the sex (I don’t even want to know how much you wanted to *insert gag here*), but the amount of things that you told me was normal for a guy to do which I have now discovered is anything from normal...

I wish I had never let you touch me.

You verbalized WAY too many graphic things you wanted that I couldn’t do for you and made me feel like I owed you no matter how much I tried to love you (which was a mistake on my part). I was the porn in your head, and I wasn’t okay with it, but like usual, you brushed off my opinion because I just didn’t understand.

By the way, Rick and Morty is a stupid show, White Chicks made me very uncomfortable. You’re an idiotic child for enjoying them, and a jerkwad supreme for forcing me to watch them, and then saying I wasn’t cultured enough in them to say they sucked. Go stick your head in the toilet bowl that is your shows, you arrogant sod.

I had to force myself to call you attractive and a man, because you’re not. And you’re right, I am out of your league. Always was, always will be.

And can we address how stupid it was that you genuinely thought you could Smash Bros a career??? I tried to be supportive but you’re such an idiot. Like, are you a grubby twelve year old with no life goals?? Are you that pretentious of a pansy?? Spoiler alert: yes.

You showed me, my family, and my church so much disrespect and I can’t believe I ever let you date me when you showed your lack of self control at SSI before we ever started. I can cite SO many sources but you’d write them all off so I won’t waste my time.

Speaking of wasting time, I can’t believe I let myself love you when you didn’t know the first thing about what love is. The fact that you thought you loved me unconditionally is the most mind-boggling notion.

And no, I didn’t have to respect you unconditionally because that’s something you have to earn before I’m willing to marry you. There was a reason I kept saying I wouldn’t marry you at the time... because you were ragingly immature and didn’t think you had room to grow.

“I’m not going to change anymore.” Who says that??? Are you a moron?? (Hint: yes) People keep changing till their dying day, and for you as a 20 year old to say you WON’T?? It’s our job as Christians to continue GROWING (see the verb) closer to Christ and you said you won’t/don’t need to?? I’m not even going to say what everyone’s thinking with that.

If you ever touch me again or look at me with that disgusting look in your swamp-colored eyes, rest assured that I have some real men on my side that will make your life a living hell, because they actually know how to respect a woman and what being protective actually is. Your version of protectiveness was being whiny and insecure when other dudes hit on me and not trusting me when, let’s be real, my biceps are better than yours.

While we’re here, let’s look at some phrases and actions that will haunt me forever:

-“I can’t help it”

-hands digging into my waist

-“you’re just too beautiful”

-10 second once overs making me feel like an object before promptly being ignored

-the sound of your voice

-“but I’m not immature!!” *in whiny baby voice*

-“don’t get mad if we get married sooner than you want to” (seriously, what. It’s not a one sided decision you blubbering butthole)

-“aichewawa” (was this phrase one of your personality traits because there were no better options?)

-“but you liked it”

-“you just don’t know enough to have an opinion”

-“I’m really good at *insert thing you’re mediocre at but don’t have the balls or skill to prove*”

Your insecurities will be the death of you. Also your fake confidence and personality, because it sucks.

In conclusion, I regret ever dating you. I’m not a person who lives in regrets, but if I could erase us, I would in a heartbeat. All of it. I’d rather go through Joe again than date you.

I wish you the life you deserve.

Not Yours,

Mandy

[joycomesafterrain]

I Guess I Hate You

I used to love you. Now I don’t know why. The overabundance of cheap words you said to me? All but lust was a lie.

You’re the breathing definition of “toeing the line.” I never felt heard because you were too focused on my waistline. For being so insecure, you sure are narcissistic. “I left you better than I found you.” You idiot, you never could be realistic.

Then the audacity to casually ask my sister-- You thought I would want to be friends?? It’s so clear you’re immature from your precious name brand shoes all the way up to your sick and twisted head.

I used to love you. Come on, was I high?? The way you gaslit me I’m surprised I’m alive. The singes and scarring are hard for me to admit, but like a coward you’ll never truly own up to it

Couldn’t stop you from opening the car door. Couldn’t stop you from shoving me against it either. Couldn’t stop the marks you left on me. Couldn’t get you to be content with just my face, felt like a slut and that feeling I can’t erase. Couldn’t believe I ignored the red flag when you told me to bring out my inner whore. Couldn’t recognize you when you put your hands on me; you turned into a cold-blooded carnivore.

I wrestled with it for a long time. Thought I wasn’t allowed. But now I guess I hate you. It feels freeing to say it out loud.

And I know God will heal me and then I can forget all about you. But right now, while I’m still getting buried under memories and pain, Luke, I guess I hate you.

[joycomesafterrain]

‼️TRIGGER WARNING: Vague suicide attempt described.

Is It Over?

Muffled sobs come through my bedroom door. When will I stop waking up to this. He’s sitting on a couch, blank stare on his face. Wait, why is he slurring? Then I see the empty orange bottles.

My mom is yelling and sobbing. She says words she doesn’t mean in a muddle of pain. I reach for the phone, trying to stay sane.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“My little brother… he attempted suicide. He took pills.” My mom tells me the names and dosages through tears.

“He took both bottles, but they were only half full.”

My brain struggled to comprehend it. Yes, he’s been suicidal for so long. Yes he’s wanted to die. But this is the first time he’s fully gone through with it. Going to sleep. The deed done. Hoping he wouldn’t wake up in the morning. The first time he knew it was a real possibility.

It hit different. Really different.

I finish doing the adult thing that no one else could do. And then my body shuts down.

This is all stupid. I’ve seen other med overdoses. I know how bad they have to look to be life-threatening. I already checked his vitals. My nurse brain knows he’s going to be okay. So why can’t I breathe?

My knees go weak.

I hug the toilet.

Black dots fade in and out.

My dad comes in to process out loud. I yell at him to get out because I can’t even handle myself right now. I internally scream at myself to get it together. At least one person should be strong. I’m never weak like this and I don’t like it. Come on, Apathy, I need you to turn on.

When the world around me is falling apart, my method is to not notice it’s crumbling. If you don’t look down, there’s no reason to freak out. But it’s not my life that’s in jeopardy. It’s my little brother’s… one of my best friends who can read me better than anyone else.

Where do you stand when you find yourself in a room with no floor or ceiling? The only thing you can do… look up and remember who uses Earth as His floor and heaven as His ceiling. I take a breath.

He’s kept him alive this long. Yes, there’s pain, and I’m dripping in numbness. There’s days where I have no energy for a single step.

All I know is He’s on the throne,

which means it’s not over yet.

[joycomesafterrain]

Dumpster Fire

Why hello there! Welcome to my manic phase! I’m not bipolar but I like having a label for my various shades of madness. To say I feel worthless is a pathetic extreme. How honest shall I be? You really want to hear how loud I can scream?

My head full of things I don’t want to say. People will think I’m an absolute crazy, so just go away. Thoughts so demented I can’t say them out loud. Are they true? Probably not but there’s too many hecklers in this cranial crowd.

‘Cause I’m just a dumpster fire. Add another toxic thought; watch the flames shoot higher. Just an out of control merry-go-round where the theme is LIAR. Yeah I’m a gloriously hideous dumpster fire.

I sing along to Hate Myself and giggle at the accuracy. Isn’t this fun? You scared yet at my lunacy? Which demented phrase will push you away? My brain tells me it’s coming soon; I just don’t know the day. I know you say you care and you’re not gonna leave, but my truth detector is all static, so sorry if I find that hard to believe.

I try to get out of this mad house, but when I pull back a curtain looking for a way out, I run into a wall that sucker punches me with old memories, irrelevant and twisted... looming over me, taunting me... throwing shadows into the harsh lighting of this hall of cracked mirrors.

Speaking of mirrors... shall we take a tour?

There’s me being eaten alive by anxiety... see the insomnia-gifted dark circles?

Here’s the me so depressed that food is irrelevant and empathy nonexistent.

There’s panic attack me dissolved in a corner, helpless and alone, aching for someone to hold me yet terrified to be seen.

Oh look, it’s suicidal me lying in bed; a smile on my face, carbon monoxide in my head.

Turn this way, see the me in the street? Music blasting, not looking where I put my feet? Safety’s irrelevant when worth is gone. Wonder if I’d feel better after being pounded to a different beat.

Can you hear the screams yet? Yeah I know they’re silent. Kind of makes it scarier, doesn’t it? WELL LET’S GET VIOLENT.

‘Cause I’m just a dumpster fire. Add another crippling thought to this burning pyre. Just a twisted teacup ride that’s going haywire. Yeah I’m a beautifully sadistic dumpster fire.

Oh look, we’re on our way down again... instead of the manic rollercoaster without rails we’re plummeting into the dungeon. Mad ravings turn to dark whispers which dissolve into heavy silence.

Silence. See the fire smolder.

silence, the ashes grow colder

SILENCE

[joycomesafterrain]

Daily quote,lol

[joycomesafterrain]

I have something hopefully positive to add for those getting discouraged with this thread.

I was 19 when I had panic attacks for the first time. They happened at college and I didn’t know for sure what they were but I didn’t want to worry my parents. After I had 3 a day at college for a week straight, my friends were too worried and told my parents so I could go to the doctor’s. My mom was hurt that I didn’t tell her. But then two days later told me that she had been doing research on panic attacks and that I had to be FAKING IT because the forums she found said that people don’t talk about panic attacks when they have real ones and only people who want attention talk about them. I felt like screaming BUT I DIDN’T TELL YOU!! My friends only knew because they were literally next to me when I had my first one ever. 

Needless to say, I shelled up. They took me to the doctor because it had to be something physical, and not mental. He told me that I was having panic attacks and “I get them too. You’ll get used to them.” And that was it. 

My friends told me I should look into a therapist... but like I was going to bring that up to my parents. 

Here’s the important part: it got better. My parents were worried and scared and didn’t understand. After 9 months and much research, my mom called me and told me she found me a therapist because she wanted me to get better. She admitted that she had had a bad experience in her past with therapists, but she really wanted to do what was best for me even if she didn’t understand it. I can’t tell you what that meant to me. 💙

I now have depression as well, and there were hiccups with that too, but my parents do their best to support even when they don’t understand... and I realize how much I underestimate my mom’s ability to tell when something is wrong. She just quietly encourages me to eat, gives me more hugs and doesn’t nag me about chores I don’t have the energy to do. 

All I saying is, look up; the clouds might still move. And if they don’t, you’ll find your people. Stay strong and honest my friends. 💙

"Should parents read their daughter's texts or monitor her online activity for bad language and inappropriate content?"

Earlier today, I served as the “young woman’s voice” in a panel of local experts at a Girl Scouts speaking event. One question for the panel was something to the effect of, “Should parents read their daughter’s texts or monitor her online activity for bad language and inappropriate content?”

I was surprised when the first panelist answered the question as if it were about cyberbullying. The adult audience nodded sagely as she spoke about the importance of protecting children online.

I reached for the microphone next. I said, “As far as reading your child’s texts or logging into their social media profiles, I would say 99.9% of the time, do not do that.”

Looks of total shock answered me. I actually saw heads jerk back in surprise. Even some of my fellow panelists blinked.

Everyone stared as I explained that going behind a child’s back in such a way severs the bond of trust with the parent. When I said, “This is the most effective way to ensure that your child never tells you anything,” it was like I’d delivered a revelation.

It’s easy to talk about the disconnect between the old and the young, but I don’t think I’d ever been so slapped in the face by the reality of it. It was clear that for most of the parents I spoke to, the idea of such actions as a violation had never occurred to them at all.

It alarms me how quickly adults forget that children are people.

[joycomesafterrain]

Hell on Earth

​I know what you’re thinking: that title is dramatic. I don’t really care. Please picture if you will, FIRE. Okay not fire, but a burning sensation. Just sitting on the top of your chest, like your mom is ironing your shirt but forgot to take you out of it. You don’t move ‘cause hey, you deserve it. This fatigue is real. Also the breathing… like smoke in the lungs. Everything’s compressed. That burning? It doesn’t explode… just seeps deeper into your core and then oozes out to the extremities. I try to claw it off from me but I just hurt myself. Oh well. Pain is pain is pain. Who even cares where it stems from anymore. 

You’re still with me? You might want to leave… in case you haven’t noticed, we’re now deep in a hole. I know I mentioned fire, but there’s no light down here. Feel free to climb out cuz you’re just a visitor. As for me, this is my home and I am its prisoner. 

You seem confused. You look down and see me sitting in a puddle. “Where is the dark?” you ask, “I don’t see any pain. You’re just a crazy sitting in a pile of old rain.”

Congratulations! You got one out of three! I am a crazy. As for the rest, you’re just blind but not stupid... after all, my paint job is amazing. I’m still in my hell hole. Don’t bother visiting again. My designer doorbell will stay broken.

[joycomesafterrain]

A habit I’m trying to break.

Books - http://debbietung.com/books

[joycomesafterrain]

Alone

Clawing, aching emptiness...

Why do I feel so alone? I have so many friends I could reach out to, So why can’t I pick up my phone?

I can tell myself I’m not a failure, But that doesn’t stop the flashing billboard in my brain. “No one is normal...” well I’m fine with weird, But I’m not okay with going insane

All these thoughts flying around... Is it all just me? I try to be logical; I try to succeed. My friends say, “we love you, you’re a wonderful person!” But are they seeing me, or my projected diversion?

The real thing I’m scared of? I can’t trust my brain It lies to me constantly: here’s another smile to feign!  “Why can’t I just tell them I’m not okay?” Because then, my brain whispers, they won’t want to stay.

Some people stick through and force me to tell them. I love them; I hate it, because it’s repeated so often.

Does this even rhyme? Does it matter at all? I feel like my heart had a collision with my soul. I can’t tell where one starts or where the other one ends. My thoughts, they won’t stop. But even worse? That feeling from hell. That screeching of nails? Like a cat got run over? Bottle that sound and turn it into a feeling. Now stuff that feeling in the middle of your chest. And then the cat’s lucky. It’s in pain then it’s dead. This feeling stays constant, like the roar of an eternal, yet silent blender. Oh you wanted to sleep? That’s an adorable thought. Does this change of pace bother you? All these words clumped together. Well welcome to my head. No rhyme or reason, just passive dread.

So why do I feel alone? When people ask how I’m doing and I don’t know how to answer.... because when I do answer, the follow up is always, “well what is making you feel that way?” And there are no words. No reason. Just a squeezing in my chest. Ever present. Reminding me that I’m more than abnormal. I’m a crazy. After all, I have personal demons that sometimes rent my mind palace. And the aloneness comes from people trying to understand, but not quite being able to.

That’s the biggest curse. Living is draining. Insomnia is hell. But being surrounded by people who try to understand but can’t? It’s like being surrounded by a bunch of hands reaching out to help you up that turn to mist when you try to grab them. Like being ghosted by paramedics. That shouldn’t be funny but dark humor is how I cope. Well, that and coffee, but I digress with this trope.

So join me in drowning. Welcome to my hell. Don’t worry it gets better, but then I try to forget it exists. The moment it comes back I feel like a failure again. It doesn’t make sense. Trust me, I know. What’s that, brain? Yeah, I deserve this. Also, I’m fine. I’m overreacting, and these words were a waste of time.

[joycomesafterrain]

Anxiety: A Random Description

You know the sound of a cat getting run over by a bicycle? Nails on a chalkboard? If you take that sound, bottle it up, turn it into a feeling and stuff it directly below your sternum, that’s anxiety. 

Got any additions, fellow diseased minds?

[joycomesafterrain]

All I can tell you, is that you shouldn’t date potential. You sound a little like me and my ex. Love sucks because it keeps you with someone you shouldn’t necessarily be with. If the guy has the girl of his dreams, he has no reason to change. I had to break up with him to give him room to change for himself, and not for me, and if he loved me enough he would come back. Only after I broke up did I realize that it was a very unbalanced relationship. I still miss him, but I’m happy now. You’ve got this babe. 💕 Take the time to cry, and know that ice cream is never a bad decision. 🍨

So intensely hurt that I’m still sad and missing him when he probably hasn’t thought of me in months... how many more months will it be like this?? Why can’t he just change to be who I need him to be

[joycomesafterrain]

It happens all the time right now. It’s so exhausting. My heart goes out to anyone experiencing the same thing. And if you haven’t tried it, may I recommend ASMR? If it’s your thoughts keeping you awake, I’ve found that ASMR that includes whispering can help drown out the loud thoughts because it gives other words to focus on. :) Stay strong, friends. 🤍

😔

Books - http://debbietung.com/books

[joycomesafterrain]

Some things are better left behind.

Books - http://debbietung.com/books

[joycomesafterrain]

#mental

[joycomesafterrain]

And if you’re not, then make one small change to make it a little bit better than the day before. Wash the laundry (don’t worry about folding it). Make the bed. Take a shower. Just one small thing. You’ll thank yourself later. 

It’s #WorldMentalHealthDay 💕 Be kind to yourself and others.

[joycomesafterrain]

things that can help ease anxiety:

- a hot soothing drink like chamomile tea - warm yellow lighting, like a little lamp - sweet scents or candles - reading a paper book - organising things - holding a cushion or pillow - a big bowl of soup - listening to songs that are calming - light exercise or a walk in a quiet street - fresh warm laundry and a tidy room - remembering things you’re thankful for - soft and comfortable clothes