#I GET IT dude our fucking parent abandoned you and you had to grow overly self sufficient

[downfallofi]

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[mexamix]

Trigger Warning

Suicide, Guilt, Death, Toxic Relationship, Counseling, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Dissociation, Sexual Assualt.

1) I do need a professional counselor or therapist

2) This past weekend proved it - March of 2019

3) I will find one in my own time

4) This will not be coherent (most likely)

5) I don't need to talk here, needed to write.

6) I quit my job of over 5.5 years, on a whim, over this weekend, because even in my mental state I knew it wasn't good for me. But I hurt the people I was trying to not to

Tumblr has been and always will be a happy place for me - I understand that it's not for everyone, and it's the least furthest thing from perfect. But it's how I found who I feel to be the love of my life. It's where I can make new friends with a simple hello, and we don't have to talk every day, and that's okay. It's where I can express and explore every part of myself, and I can be safe. I can love myself as much as I want, explore mental health, become aware of different perspectives, and have my eyes opened to how the world and the people around me are hurting. It has the potential to be an incredible place for every walk of life.

And on this blog, the one that started it all, I feel safe to write posts like this.

I have had a happy life. Raised by wonderful people. Live in a quiet town that actually raised me to believe that I could do anything I put my mind to. I love to travel. When I have a job, any job, I give it my all. I am also ridiculously creative, in so many ways, you should hear the mental list of ideas I have. I finally found exercise I like. I love to cook. I have many wonderful friends from all different walks of life. Graduated college "on time." Loved by everyone, and if I'm not, please let me make it right. Don't be mad at me. Please don't hate me. Please don't leave me.

I have no control. It was too much.

I am always growing and learning - in fact, I am so "grown up," I recently friended everyone on Facebook at once! Old friends that I'm ecstatic are doing well, mended broken fences, I even forgave my parents! My mom of all people! Everything is great! I'm finally feeling like myself again!

Oh she wants to talk. Oh she's liking my pictures. She's commenting. Again and again and again and again and AGAIN FUCK WHY IS HER NAME EVERYWHERE.

My parents divorced when I was a kid. They were "high school sweethearts." Mom never showed up to the custody court hearing. And I've never asked my dad to tell me everything that happened from his perspective.

Because they left me

They abandoned me

They didn't want to raise me

She was never a real fucking mother and I had to see her every other damn weekend.

And the minute I didn't have to legally be in her presence, my dad started bringing over girlfriends that looked just like her.

Acted like her.

Felt like her.

Left the same bad taste in my mouth.

I don't want to be my mother.

I had a wonderful childhood...aced every test, took it semi-okay (not really) when I didn't get good a good grade in college, but still graduated with honors! I can live anywhere I want with my experience and degree!

Oh but my grandparents have a lot of health issues.

My boyfriend will move up here and leave everything...for me.

why do I have to leave? This safe little town, it has so many good memories, we can have a life here, I can buy a house, I can have the CLASSIC AMERICAN DREAM. I CAN WORK EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK WITH NO TIME FOR MYSELF OR LOVED ONES. I CAN FIX IT. NOTHING'S WRONG.

I love to travel and I want to see the world - financially I cannot.

I was raised by my grandparents. They are my true parents. They love and support me no matter what. I was raised in a loving household. With good Christian values. But everyone hated my beliefs in high school, part of who I am. And I thought traditional was best. Why don't you drink? Oh you can't be GAY that's WRONG aren't you a GOOD CHRISTIAN GIRL. Ewww you are way too clingy, back the fuck off, we're just friends, I don't *actually* like you. Why don't you let loose??? Have some fun! Be like us!

Why are you hanging out with that boy who said he likes you? Dude sure you had a wonderful first date, but do you know him?? He has NONE of the same interests as you! So what if he seems like a great guy!! Listen to us!!!!! WE KNOW BEST.

I wished I had just been friends with my "first" boyfriend. I wish we had never kissed. I wish I hadn't clung onto him because he was the first guy to supposedly not care how clingy he was.

I was sexually assaulted in high school. I had pushed my friends away, and I didn't know what to do. Or who to tell. No one else would like me, right?

I should've just been his friend.

My wonderful boyfriend and I recently had our five year anniversary - half of that was long distance. I live in a fairy tale!! He's got some giant surprise for me!! What's it going to be?? A trip? A proposal? A house? I get to meet every celebrity I follow????? All of the above?????

I am a highly sensitive person. I see details and patterns.

I work hard to have a good life.

I am not upper class, in fact if I lost my grandparents, I'd be "lower class" compared to society standards. But I like nice things, fancy things, shiny things, pretty things, let me spend all if my money because shopping is happy!!!! I have a job!!! I can buy whatever I want because I KNOW BEST and I HAVE MONEY and what's one more thing to add to the collection??? I'll always have money!!!

I have too much. I have no control. In "real life" I have no money if I lost everything.

Let me buy a house! Let's rent a house! I can DO it I can AFFORD it, it can be an INVESTMENT, I can't have all of the noise, I need pets, I need my own place I want it to be MINE I just need to GET OUT.

I had my first panic attack.

From my brain going into overdrive, and seeing details and patterns. Not trusting people. Couldn't sit still. But from feeling cared for. Then wondering if everyone around me knew something that I didn't. I get what I want right?? What do I want????? I can have EVERYTHING????? I can have FREEDOM??????????? What does everyone SEE that I'M MISSING???

the effects are just now starting to wear off I guess. I've been to two doctors. But I was delusional, thinking I was okay when I wasn't, hurting those around me, dissociating multiple times, screaming at my boyfriend, terrified to talk to the doctors, overly angry, absent, happy, manic.

ever since the first time I dissociated, I've felt like while there's more love and support every day, the country they I live in is no longer my home.

I became aware of how Dissociation felt the night of the 2016 election.

Watch what you say. Who you piss off. Nothing is safe. Safe places are childish. Act "normal." no DON'T try and have a relationship with that person STOP STOP STOP it's TOO MUCH you'll LOSE THEM you need to get out out out, somewhere safe, DON'T BE YOURSELF JUST GET OUT DAMMIT.

apartments are scary. loud men are scary. people not believing the minorites, are scary. this country is scary. not remembering things, it's incredibly scary.

not having any self-worth....is terrifying.

My first "boyfriend" committed suicide.

This was years ago. I thought I was over him. I was sad, because I knew he had a hard life too. I tried to be his friend when he messaged me, but I didn't know how. I was still a young adult. Inexperienced. What was I supposed to do??? I didn't read the signs!! I could've helped him if I'd just KNOWN. AND NOW HE'S GONE.

I needed to block his Facebook from myself, because it's still up. I'm reminded of all of the good times. How he only sexually assulted me, he didn't actually *rape* me, that's different, I was *lucky* that he didn't rape me in that house alone when the only person who knew where I was TRUSTED me!! I told them to go. It was fine.

I was lucky. I didn't know what a Toxic Relationship was.

and when I went to try and block his Facebook, I found his memorial page, made by good friends.

He was such a good person. Don't talk bad about the death. Just remember the *good* times. No bad times. It's so sweet! I should *contribute* something!!! Remember all of the GOOD times we had??????? There was never ANYTHING bad!

I had my first panic attack, I was sleep deprived, and the terrifying effects are just now wearing off.

I almost had another one just seeing that Facebook page and feeling like I should contribute.

I am lucky. But I have a past, just like everyone else. And no one needs to know everything. But I need professional help, and rest, and time to myself. But the thought of people leaving because of something I did, or how I acted...it never should've gotten to this point. But it did.

And while it doesn't excuse my actions, I hope it helps spread awareness of mental health and the effects of what high stress and anxiety can do to a person, as well as bring more awareness to the behaviors and mental conditions that can affect anyone, even when they can't just let the past go.

I am not a doctor. But I need to talk to a professional counselor, therapist, etc. No one deserves to deal with the effects of my mental state after what happened.

Please watch the YouTube channel Psych2go. It is accessible, free education about the different aspects of mental health, and the variables that go into it.

[riptidemusings]

To a Friend So Recently Lost,

I’m not good at journaling. I don’t like to talk about myself or my feelings, so writing them down in a book dedicated to just that has always been hard for me. Keeping journals on school camps always revolved around what my friends did, how much I missed home, an emotionless list of activities I probably hated every moment of. Never my thoughts or feelings.

Writing, though. I pour my heart onto the pages whether inspiration has struck or not, out of a need to be heard, but not make myself the focus. That, I have a journal for. It’s full of small pieces, small fictions that came out in one, fluid go, sometimes disastrously blemished by ink where my excitement pushed me to scribble until the words were as aesthetically beautiful as they were in meaning. Some are pieces I’ve written over and over, editing and revising them because they never meant what I wanted them to, and were never what I wanted them to be. Some I started and abandoned. I do that with a lot of things, it seems.

Somehow, I think, this is what has managed to happen between us. I’m not saying I abandoned you, because hurting my friends has never been anything I ever intended to do. Maybe you think I’ve hurt you, and maybe I have, but I wasn’t trying to. If I was, you’d know it, and I wouldn’t be writing this fucking thing in the first place.

We used to be good. We were good for a long time, despite the distance. Through our differences and similarities, our in-jokes and group chats, we stuck together. There were plans, at one point, to flat together. Maybe we subconsciously knew it wouldn’t work, which is why nothing ever came of it.

After all that, one argument, not even an argument between us was what broke it down. We might not have talked for a while beforehand, but we were getting back on track, with the sharing of thoughts and how things were going in our lives, but one disagreement was what did it. Not the separation, not the time without talking, but a disagreement. A war of words.

Was it because I called you ignorant? Insinuated you were being childish? I bet it was. No matter how good our friendship was, there was always part of me that censored what I said to you, part that always kept me in check, tiptoeing around your sensibilities like shards of glass. I didn’t want to get cut by them, and maybe that’s why part of me is glad.

Don’t get me wrong; part of me is mourning, too. Neither of us have many friends, we can both freely admit that, and you cry out on social media at the loss of another. I know you meant me. Maybe you didn’t, but it was sure as hell applicable to me, and that should be telling enough, don’t you think? Maybe I misread the situation. Did I? Did you think you’d already lost me, and decided not to make any effort?

Because, sorry, I didn’t get that memo. As far as I knew, as far as you told me, we were good. Things were strained, but that’s how it is with people after arguments, right? Or had you decided at that very moment that you were done with me? Maybe make it a little clearer next time if it’s the case, because here I am – trying to reach out after your latest post, thinking there’s something left to be salvaged, maybe something I can do to stop you hurting, and looking more the fool for doing so.

Maybe they’re not cries for help. I think it might just be a cry for attention. Whining for something you’ve destroyed all on your own, and that fits in nicely with the label I gave you, doesn’t it? Child. A parent knows better than to play into that kind of behaviour, but I never signed up to parent you. Caring is just something a friend does, and it was all I ever tried to do.

It’s like that show we used to love. The one that had that relationship, so well written and with beautiful character development of people who got together against all odds, but then it was shot down and obliterated by something so stupid. Someone not wanting to take fault, and someone else chasing after them saying it didn’t matter. We’re like that, I think, except I’m not going to send you cryptic notes asking to meet under the bleachers and then try to convince you to run away to Mexico with me. Unlike them, we never dated, despite how much of a love letter this might read as. Unlike him, I know a lost cause when I see one.

Maybe we’d have another go and try again at this thing, but I think it would be fireworks. Not in a good way. Everyone always forgets how fireworks are temporary. They burn bright in spectacular colour, but then they fade away, the smoke dissipates, and they’re forgotten. Maybe there are photos, maybe there are videos, but eventually they’ll get deleted for new memories.

I might be a bitch, in fact, I know I am, but I’m a bitch that cares, however unwillingly. I would never wish harm on you, but I’m tired. When you mourn your losses on public forums, and a suspecting target flies into your trap, sends you a message to try and reopen the gates, why would you ignore them? They’re making an effort to change your fate, because the way you’re going, your fate is determined, and you’re the only person you have to blame.

So, I ask – what do you want from me?

If you’re after an apology, you’re fucking wrong in thinking you’ll get one. People have disagreements, but then they work through them or ignore them, like adults. This wasn’t my fault. I didn’t even have the fucking argument with you. I had no problems with you, because I know when to pick my battles and step over the glass.

The person you actually had the issue with – I once had a fight with them, too. We were younger then, and it was even bad enough to unfriend each other (gasp!) but if we were able to come out the other side swinging, then I’m pretty damn sure you can admit that other people have cognitive abilities that allow them to formulate differing opinions to yours and get the fuck over it.

Because that’s what you need to do. Grow up. Stop proving me right, and act like a fucking adult.

I know you’re not as much of a confrontational person as me, I do, but fucking talk to me, because I don’t know what the fuck is going on, and as such, I’m still writing this damn letter. I’m never going to send it, you’re never going to see it, and yet, I continue. Pounding on a set of keys is a less strenuous activity for one in the morning than hanging a punching bag outside in the winter air and freezing to death, all because I’m mad at you.

I think you know that if it came to me choosing someone, you were never going to come out tops. That might be harsh, but it’s the truth. God, maybe that was even your goal. Maybe I’m wasting my time thinking there was something to be saved from this mess, when you’d already given up and decided to cut your losses.

Look, I’m not an overly religious person, but I have my beliefs, and with that comes a certain set of… suggestions for how to act. Many are along the lines of be kind to your friends and guard friendship, and that’s what I’m trying to do with you, but there are also some like use time sparingly and respect yourself. So, here I am. Respecting myself and knowing when to save myself the trouble.

If you’re done, just fucking say so, because me?

I’m done, dude.

And you’ve got no one to blame except yourself.

 Sincerely,

The Friend You’ve So Recently Lost.

more letters i should have written || tip jar?