lonely-bear-cub

[lonely-bear-cub]

Odysseus, trying to convince Zeus not to kill his crew: let's talk man to man. Father to father.

Zeus: I'm a father??

[lonely-bear-cub]

Tw; disturbing imagery and such.

I feel sick. My lungs ache and my stomach curls and how I wish to pull it inside out and through my throat and out of my body. How I wish to deface myself because I am sick. I want to take my intestines and hang them up like some grotesque wall art. I want to string my ribs together in some crude windchime. Pulling my face off my bones so I can be as unrecognizable and no longer associated with that girl who I used to be 5 years ago. I want to be ageless and ancient. I want to sleep in the dirt and pass the ferry man a coin. Death must be so beautiful to entrance a creature like myself.

[lonely-bear-cub]

Dissociation but not really because it's not that I don't feel real it's that I feel too real and everyone else doesn't actually exist

[lonely-bear-cub]

Drunk confessions and lost trust

[lonely-bear-cub]

Had a situation with my dad recently. Not a bad one i think.

I had gone to group, as usual, and ended up venting about one of my friends. How its been really toxic sometimes, but we're trying. Then, talked to my dad about it in the car after.

Dad, i know you know more than them, but yet you know nothing.

This is normal to you, so i explain it and because you know this friend and you've only really heard the good things till now, you gave me ways to try and make it better.

The people in my group, knowing only what i vented about, recommended i cut it off.

Why do all the early friendships i made turn out to be so bad and yet so good? Can we still be friends while you bite my throat out? Can we still laugh as we ignore your issues?

[lonely-bear-cub]

They are not anybody elses fault but your own.

[lonely-bear-cub]

Maybe this was supposed to be a safe space.

[lonely-bear-cub]

I want to rot. I want to become putrid and disgusting. I want to be picked at by crows and vultures and worms. I want to lay on the side of the road and feel my blood pooling in my ribs. I want some curious stranger to stop and take a picture. You always tried to take pictures. Even sent me some. I miss you yk? Its weird. I walk into the kitchen and your not there anymore. I dont touch your old mug. The bowl one. I dont even remember if it was yours. I just remember you not wanting me to use it. I sit at your place sometimes. The placemat is still there. No one has tried to throw it away yet. I dont think anyone will. Its weird yk? Not tripping over your laptop cord and apologizing when it unplugs. Waiting for you to go on call with them when your not even there. Leaving seconds of foods i know you like as if youll be there to eat them. I miss you yk? I dont think you were ever one for emotional messages. Sorry. Happy early birthday. I miss you.

[lonely-bear-cub]

You rip into my skin and i bleed. You smile with bloodstained teeth. Do i taste good? Complient and willing, just how you like it. Are you proud of me? Will you ever be proud of me? It hurts. My flesh rips so easily under your fingernails. Do I tear easy enough? Do i need to be softer? I'm trying. I'm sorry. It hurts. I sit so pretty for you. No whining. No crying. I know what to do. My life dries out of my veins but I still smile for you. Am i sweet? It stings. When can i stop acting? Your nails scrape and rip and it hurts. I'm doing well? You love me? Okay.. Love you too.

i split open and present my heart to you but it hurts more than I imagined. Are you even aware that your hurting me? Do you even care that im bleeding out and still loving you? Do you even care?

this never ending cycle. you plant me, i grow, you eat me, and you plant me again. why all this pain? it hurts. Is this love? it can't be. but..the happiness you radiate as you devour my life. is that love? am I being loved? is love hurt? must i be hurt to be loved? cant this just stop? please? my ribs are cracking and my heart is drying out. please, keep loving me.

-Q.n.

[lonely-bear-cub]

Loving you feels like feeding something starving

[lonely-bear-cub]

To the one who gave birth to me but could never be my mother:

Im sorry. Im sorry we changed. Im sorry that we were difficult. Im sorry that im not [deadname]. Im sorry im not even [new name]. Im sorry that you dont know who *i* am. Im sorry that i keep pretending. Its not gonna stop. It will probably never stop. But maybe im sorry nonetheless.

From an alter you dont even know exists. Im sorry.

[lonely-bear-cub]

It's nights like these i don't feel safe in my own skin.

[lonely-bear-cub]

I really wanna write poetry, but my brain is like "haha scrambled eggs"

[lonely-bear-cub]

Why am i still up? I shouldnt be still up. I dont want to sleep though. I wont dream. No nightmares. Maybe thats why. But in any case, im still awake and i dont want to sleep. I need to. I havent slept in a bit. But i cant. And i wont.

Today i went to a ren faire. It was fun. Really taxing. My friends dad drove. We drove back in the rain. There were moments where i started panicking because i genuinely thought we would crash. Not because he wasnt a good driver, but because im not used to his driving. We stopped for mcdonalds. It was alright. My friend and his brother argued the whole trip. His dad was used to it, and i was always the one to try and get them to stop. Unless their dad stepped in.

Im so tired of being responsible.

[lonely-bear-cub]

Religion was praying at dinner. Religion was going to church. Religion was following the rules. Religion was a "safe" space. Religion became a mask. Religion became a responsibility. Religion became a burden. Religion became a hole. Religion is a weapon used against me. My Religion has always been and always will be, suffering.

-Q.n.

[lonely-bear-cub]

I'm tired of being a burnt-out husk for people to use. LET ME LIVE! please, god let me live

-Q.n.

[lonely-bear-cub]

You do not have to go through what others consider severe trauma in order to be valid. You do not have to endure what others consider worse in order for your trauma to be recognized. Your trauma was and is allowed to be subtle, normalized, and invalidated by yourself to be bad enough. Trauma is never about the event itself, it's how you reacted. Even the most benign event can be traumatic given the context.