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memoirsofabasicbitch · 3 years

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The thing is, I’m not entirely sure I remember how to dream. How to write. How to imagine anything independently of a world created by someone else, in their mind.

I’ve grown so used to hanging my dreams on what other people have created for me that I don’t know if that person is still in there.

That weird little girl, who peeled acorns for squirrels, and walked in circles over and over and over again on the roots of the big oak tree. She had a big imagination. She told herself all sorts of stories.

Was it just because I couldn’t play the other games? Too slow - reflexes and running. Too weak - climbing, throwing, running, playing.

(Or was it because I wasn’t allowed to — couldn’t — play those games? I have a few dim memories of trying to play and being sent away. They’re dim though. I stopped asking.)

Or was it simply that I was filling time? Waiting until I could go back into a world I could navigate a little better than the playground?

Sometimes, though, I was waiting. Hoping, really.

More than a few times.

A lot.

I hoped, I thought, maybe - maybe if I walk in the right way, I’ll hear the trees laughing, like Anne told Diana about. Maybe they’ll talk to me. Maybe a faerie will come creeping out from a little crevice and wave, winking. Maybe a squirrel will come crawling down the wrinkled bark while I watch, and take the little heap of acorn meat I’d left for him. Maybe there’s a tiny scrap of magic somewhere in the world that I just haven’t found yet.

I haven’t had dreams for a long time. That’s what happens when your dreams have expiration dates. I’ve already missed most of mine.

Never really even came close.

I had a “schedule” that makes me want to cry to think of it. Meet someone in college or shortly after. Get married by 25, so we would have a few years together after college. Have our first child by 27, because mom always said I should start having babies by 30 if I really wanted to have more than one and space them out.

I’m 28. I’ve never had a real relationship with anyone, romantic or platonic. I’ve never had a best friend who would place me on the same importance as I would them.

I have borderline personality disorder. I have adhd. I am on the autism spectrum. I have depression and anxiety so severe they cripple me. More than one of these things may be false. The symptoms are nearly indistinguishable once you have more than 2. No one will give me a straight answer, and no two doctors can agree.

Added onto years of emotional and mental abuse - which is what it was, wasn’t it. Maybe because I’m autistic, maybe it really was that bad. Neglect, sure. Public humiliation, that happened too, I’m pretty sure. Being told flat out that I was stupid and fat and ugly and I was lucky to have any friends at all so maybe I should just shut up and sit down before I ended up with none.

I’m pretty sure that happened. I don’t really remember it though. I don’t really have any memories at all.

Supposedly that’s something that happens with “complex post traumatic stress disorder,” which generally crops up when a person is systematically ground down for a long time until there is nothing left but the stories they told themselves when they tried to explain to the fake audience in their head who they were. How they got that way.

I don’t know who I was, who I could have been if I hadn’t had the life I did. Maybe my memories are skewed.

My therapist didn’t seem to think so, but she also sometimes seemed to think I was full of shit. That’s probably me reading too much into things again. That’s what I do.

Was it really that bad? I remember a lot of screaming, and crying, and hiding, and wishing I was dead or that someone would just hit me already so I would have something to say, to tell people other than “they yell at me and make me cry and sometimes they grab my arms and shake me and sometimes they tell me they’ll throw me out onto the street to fend for myself and sometimes they tell me they love me so much they’re so sorry and then sometimes they cry”.

But how much of that was me? How much was that my perception of things? Am I really that crazy, or have I really been gaslit that much? Is it gaslighting if they didn’t even realize how much pain they caused you, which is why they say “it wasn’t that bad stop exaggerating”?

Did I imagine all of it?

If I did, if I didn’t, what was real? What had the weight I felt it carry? What should have been a minor blip in my life but instead metastasized into a catastrophe?

I don’t know. Maybe I never knew. Reality hasn’t ever been my friend.

Fantasy is so much better.

It’s painful now, though. To read some of these stories, these books I used to adore.

Stories about Mature Adult Women of 25! Whole! Years! Going on adventures and meeting their soulmates and having wonderful happy lives.

I’m spiraling. It’s late. I’m tired and a little high, wishing I was higher and maybe I wouldn’t be so bored.

Bilbo was middle aged, wasn’t he? When he went on his adventure? He had an adventure, and then he came home and had a long, rich, happy, lonely, bitter life. Hmm. Perhaps the one ring is not the best foundation for a guiding principle.

I went to law school because I’d come to the end of every plan I actually had. (You don’t really plan for a future when you’ve been suicidal since before puberty.) I figured I’d get to read and write at least reasonably interesting things, make good money, maybe even make a difference.

I’ve been a paralegal for the same law firm I worked for right out of college for two years now and I have never felt more like a shambling corpse.

When I graduated from college, I couldn’t get a job. Could I have tried harder? Sure. Is executive dysfunction a bitch? You bet.

So I worked for a family friend’s law firm. Personal injury and medical malpractice. She’s the mother of my older sister’s oldest best friend and has employed all of my mother’s three daughters.

She’s also a heinous bitch and a terrible boss. Her employees have a shelf life of about 2 years. I’ve hit my expiration date. Once you’ve audibly cried during a phone conference, you’re really near the bottom. Once she decides you suck at your job, there’s no coming back. Either you quit or you get fired. She prefers when people quit so she can blame them and not feel guilty. So she just increasingly treats people worse and worse until they quit in self defense.

I worked for her for a year. It was awful. I became an alcoholic and gained 25+ lbs.

I decided to go to law school.

I moved to New Orleans.

I made friends. I had an apartment all to myself. I had a life I actually enjoyed.

Then I graduated.

And I couldn’t get a job again.

(Of course, all of this is underpinned with my cyclical periods of intense illness, often accompanied by being hospitalized and missing long periods of school. In college and in law school, actually.)

(All the cocaine and drinking didn’t help either.)

(Ah, New Orleans. How I miss thee.)

So I ended up at the same firm again. Living with my parents. Again.

Then I passed the bar.

Now I’m doing the same work as my younger sister, for the same amount of money. (When she graduated from her masters program and was unemployed for 6 months, I convinced my boss to hire my younger sister again, and my sister to work for my boss again after a semi-disastrous summer job.)

(To be fair, while I’m technically a licensed attorney, she has a masters in education, so it’s not like there’s a massive education disparity here.)

(It doesn’t help that I’m barred in a different jurisdiction than the one my firm typically works in, so there aren’t any cases I can really work on as an attorney, and then on top of that my bosses don’t want to pay for malpractice insurance for me so I’m not allowed to practice as an attorney or put that I’m an attorney or call myself an attorney or even put in my letterhead that I’m licensed in the District of Columbia.)

Then there was a pandemic, and I decided I probably shouldn’t try to make a huge life change during a pandemic.

The pandemic is still fucking here. Nearly. Two. Years. Later.

So I guess I have to make a new plan.

Can I be a lawyer? I guess we’ll see.

I don’t really want to, though. I’m burned out and I wasn’t even practicing.

I want to move to a beach and write a novel and actually have a life I enjoy.

The problems with this plan are numerous. Not only is inertia an incredibly powerful enemy of mine, but I’ve lost all imagination.

I cannot imagine a future in which I am happy. Will I kill myself? Probably not, at least not for a long while. I’ve thought too long and hard about the long-lasting, far-reaching repercussions it would have. (Say what I will about my family, at least it’s always been clear that my death is NOT an acceptable outcome.)

I want to find my imagination again. I want to be able to imagine not only a future in which I am happy, but other futures, other worlds. I want to be able to dream, not only for me, not only for reality, but for unreality. I want to create worlds in my mind again, and allow them to take whatever shapes they wish.

I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if all those horrible teachers, all those “peer editors” in fucking elementary school were right, and my story ideas are hackneyed and overwrought.

Wouldn’t it be nice, though, if they were wrong. Wouldn’t it be nice, to start writing, and to find that my imagination didn’t go so very far.

It’s been hiding in the intertwined branches of a birch grove, slim and tall and ringing with laughter. In the space between stars. Down the path shaded with wisteria and jasmine and honeysuckle, where the scent and the heat and the humidity are so thick you can feel the heavy perfume coating your lungs. Tucked away, safe, waiting to peek out. Waiting to creep down the wrinkled bark of a huge old oak and wink at the little girl playing among its roots.

I hope it is there. I hope I can find it.

I’ll keep you posted.

This is my own personal void to yell into, after all.

#on writing #my life #a memoir lol

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softpink · 5 years

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It’s so weird being passively suicidal for nearly ten years because everyday you wake up and you’re disappointed that you’re alive but you’re more disappointed that you still WANT to die. I don’t want to kill myself, but I don’t want to be alive and I sure would like to stop wanting to be dead but I do not know how to fundamentally stop feeling that. Sure there’s been fits of very active ideation, but at least those really really really pressing “I want to be dead and I will do anything to be dead” feelings are fleeting. The passive ideation? It’s like a dull toothache that I’ve had since I was fifteen that has never been fixed. It’s worse because at least when I was in high school I knew I had been through bad things but I hadn’t fully processed the trauma, so I had an excuse for not being able to fix the fact that I was so mentally ill. I’m 22 and I am fully aware of why I am so anxious and depressed. I am fully aware of the complexities of the trauma I went through, how it affects different parts of the brain, why I am having physiological and psychological reactions that I have, and yet here I am not doing anything to fix it. I know it’s not entirely my fault. I couldn’t control that my new insurance wouldn’t cover my counselor or psychiatrist and I had to abruptly stop my appointments and meds. I tried to taper the zoloft the best I could and make it last for as long as I could. But also I could be trying to find a new counselor, a new clinic. It just overwhelms me. It took seven years to find Lisa, and I was seeing her for over SIX MONTHS before we even started to dip our toes into unpacking the things I’ve been through. I know I have a lot of unprocessed hurt from my last (real, Martin does not count in the slightest and never will) relationship. Even though we broke up almost a year ago at this point. I know this because I cannot even think about it or talk about it at length. I still get visceral reactions when I think about things. I feel nauseous and guilty and sweaty and sick when I think about certain things. It’s hard for me to fully verbalize just how trapped I felt, how much it hurt me and broke me as a person. I left that relationship a shell of myself. I was so miserable and empty and scared. It’s still hard for me to think of him as a bad person, and I still like to think that we were corrosive as a couple and that was the issue. But then I really think about all of the fucked up shit I was put through and it just sends me spiraling. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel at peace with that relationship, I don’t even know how to process it.

I’ve been feeling extra anxious as of recent. Which is a lot of anxiety, because my baseline is already “extreme anxiety” per my psychiatric plan of care. (It’s always surreal reading what the doctors have to say. Like yeah, I know I’m depressed? But seeing it written as “SEVERE major depressive disorder” on a legitimate medical document just has a certain way of making you feel even worse about yourself.) A lot of my anxiety has been centered around employment. Leaving dialysis was essential for my well being, that job was ruining me. Being unemployed for the past month was honestly needed for me to decompress, but it was also unnerving. I GOT A JOB TODAY, and I am excited but I am also terrified and I think that’s why my anxiety has been particularly bad today. What if I hate this job too? What if I still feel just as terrible? What if I will never be able to have a full time job? What if working with people with trauma backgrounds exacerbates my mental illness? It’s just been a lot to think about. I’ve been lonely too, which is whatever. Everyday I know that I would much rather be alone, and be able to do the things that I want to do, than to be in a relationship that limits me. I’m grateful to have had time by myself and be able to reflect on what I need and what I want out of my partner. I’ve been very scared of commitment and being open with someone. But lately I’ve been feeling ready to make that jump, but I’m running into the issue that I have not found anyone that I WANT to make that jump with. I’ve been on dates here and there...and after every date my friends ask me how did it go and my answer is always “it was nice! it was fine!” It’s never the “hit over the head with butterflies, I want to do something real dumb to be with this person” feeling that I had when I met Ray. I am also very lonely for intimacy. Not sexual, just affection. Like holy shit, if someone held my hand and rubbed my back for me I think I would explode. I don’t want to keep sleeping with people that I don’t genuinely want to be with at the end of the day. I want to be with someone that brings real, organic joy to my life. I want to not feel so alone anymore.

#just ignore all of my word vomit #personal

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makenewtruths · 5 years

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Wanted: New Life

So it’s the first time in a long long time that I’m writing again and I’m doing so mostly because I’m home alone for pretty much the entire evening. I find myself wanting to do everything and therefore end up feeling crippled by the possibilities. There is so much to do and so little to be done. I have seen the “elephant.”

It is times like this where I am made aware of exactly how alone I am in the world outside of my girlfriend. I basically don’t talk to anyone but her with any kind of real confidence and even she cannot handle everything from me. I struggle regularly with my feelings for her, her need for commitment, and my own inability to give it.

I, like so many, was sold the preconception of whirlwind romance that would sweep me away from my own self doubt. Being a more practical person than I was in my school days I like to believe I’ve gotten past this. There is a raw chemistry that I still feel lacking in my relationship which both leaves me wanting more, denying even more to her because of it, and stubbornly refusing to commit to anything that doesn’t remedy this secret issue.

I am aware of how ridiculous it is to hold this secret criteria. I have talked to her about the idea of opening up our relationship and have even encouraged her to pursue others. This notion by itself is exciting and breaks up my tired monotony, but does not remedy my juvenile pretense. I am alone in a relationship and it sucks.

I love my girlfriend. I want to be the man that gives everything she wants (even if that means not just me), however, there is also a part of me that has built up a notion that we may be happier if we weren’t together. It’s not a topic of casual conversation and her response to such matters is often either furious and incisive or tearful and dramatic. Either one of these responses leaves me scrambling to understand my place in the world as I don’t have a great sense of self outside of how others perceive me; which leads me to mental health. This is the first day in a long time where I thought that I understood why someone would want to kill themselves.

To be perfectly clear I do not condone the thought and I am not seriously entertaining the idea of any sort of self harm. I want to live at the very least for those people whose lives I would affect were I to turn up dead. I have striven for years to be a good and stable boyfriend, a warm and understanding brother, and an insightful, if often distant, friend. I don’t cherish the idea of anyone finding me dead, especially by my own hand. It is an utterly selfish action which I do not wish to take. I do, however, see the elephant.

When you lack perspective it is easy to look at your immediate lonely circumstances and find the ordeal of fostering new friendships daunting. As traffic whizzes by my simple corner lot a crushing vitality easily chokes the soft certainty in my perspective out. I have always been one who is willing to learn and each car is occupied by another world which I may only ever come to inhabit, but never own. These borrowed spaces are where I have lived my life and, honestly, where I live it still. I do not have control of my life because I do not consider myself an authority, and in each of those cars is a new opportunity to redefine myself, but that’s really the problem isn’t it?

If I never get to be relaxed I can never know what I am other than some sort of psycho-social chameleon. I love to question, but I am not confident in my answers because I am still fallible and this has never been acceptable to me, especially if it gets people hurt. That said too much of my time and energy has been spent self-regulating, keeping troubling thought away from those who would take umbrage has made me into a cardboard cutout of a man and I’m tired of not feeling alive. If I’m going to get better I have to learn to draw lines, but one of the largest issues currently is just where.

I founded my current romantic entanglement on the notion that a girl who is willing to follow two states and stick out the ensuing miserable circumstance is probably worth keeping around. I have, however, very little impetus to change or adapt this relationship to my needs. I accept my girlfriends presence as a welcome comfort, on which often affords me prettier environs and great food, but as she not so subtly presses me for a ring my heart gets caught on some of the finer details.

I am a pleaser and as such when I am asked to change I take great efforts. I have learned to put more effort into our relationship through compromise in house work, home ownership, and now subtly on the notions of marriage and children, and while i have done so out of love I think I feel even more robbed of my agency than I had when this relationship started.

I established early that her moving here was her own prerogative and that while I would, and do, support her that didn’t want her to move here “for me.” That didn’t really play out as I thought it would of course.

Within 6 months we were officially boyfriend and girlfriend as we were living together in somewhat miserable circumstance in a shoddy apartment we rented so we could stop staying at a jenk hotel. She took charge of the issue and found us our first real place. It was nice as, at the time, I was working anywhere from 3 to 16 hours, 6 days a week and had practically no way of making a stable schedule without quitting my job which was the only income either of us had at the time. Flash forward another 6 months and after work upgrade I suddenly find myself unemployed. This lasts like 6 months. I should be and am ashamed of this, but depression (if that’s what this really is) is brutal and I wrapped myself regularly in fury and frustration whilst blissfully ignoring the strain I was putting on my partner. At on point while we were living there I told her that I couldn’t see her as the mother of my children. As you can imagine that didn’t go over well.

Then I found my current job and we moved into another nicer apartment and I started falling for a co-worker who got me said job. She was a friend of my cousin and we hit it off almost immediately, but I stayed myself until inevitably crisis settled into my mind and my relationship grew “weak.” I didn’t do anything terribly explicit but one weekend we went out to a concert together and, for one very awkward minute, we kissed. It was a foolish mistake I have/am paid/paying for it. A couple days later I tried to break up with my girlfriend to protect her and eventually came clean about the kiss. I was proud of myself for not doing more, but I didn’t realize the depth of my transgression.

First there was fury and then there was compromise. I tried lend compromise to the situation and negotiate a polyamorous relationship. It didn’t go well. It was all deeply strained as trust had already been broken and any compromise on my girlfriends part was being made under duress as i had already tried to break up with her. I should have known better, but I had never been in such a relationship and I pushed when I should have pulled, spoke when I should have stayed quiet, and eventually my girlfriend whose trust I had broken looked on my phone and saw messages she deemed incriminating toward both myself and my co-worker. Hatred and vitriol spew forth to this day whenever her name arises and I, while largely forgiven still tense at the slightest mention of that situation and the role I played there in.

Now we own a house. This was likely ill advised, but our lease was ending and I have known I wanted to own a house rather than rent for some time. I knew that if we bought a cheap enough home our mortgage could actually be cheaper than rent and it is an investment. I love the idea, but am finding my girlfriend’s DIY attitude to often be overwhelming after coming home from a job which I know I only do so I can keep my income up and be a stable partner. I am not happy there even though things improved drastically once aforementioned coworker rolled on to another workplace.

Now, however, I am largely alone.

I cannot talk to my girlfriend about my pursuing other relationships because I hurt her, and I can’t keep up the pace of renovations and house work she expects after coming home from a job which is mind-numbing but stable which I cannot leave for greener pastures without a drastic pay cut, losing money which I barely have enough of the meet my half of the bills anyway.

I want to break free and enjoy my life. i have very little time or energy to engage in a job search in addition to the demands of home ownership. I have practically no one to confide in and am largely avoiding talking to anyone about any of my doubts or concerns because I feel as if it ill disposes them towards either me or my girlfriend. I am terrified of another entanglement like the one that occurred previously but I honestly take so much of my personal motivation from other people’s perception of me that I have very little idea what the purpose of friendship is without the joy and wonder of sharing perspective which I seem to give myself over to wontonly or not at all (as is more recently the case). I need a confidant but everyone I know is too close to all of this and/or will be if things continue on their current trajectory.

I’m not sure if i should seriously be entertaining proposing or if i’m right in hesitating, because honestly I feel like there is a lot here to sort out and it might mostly be mine, but if I want to be doing this for the right reasons I’m not sure how much I should care.

My pace is slow, but I must find joy in this life if I am going to continue building it. Advice is appreciated, but please don’t be to harsh I seriously have no one else to talk to about this.

#mental health #relationship #polyamory #love #marriage #coming of age

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seafoam-mermaid · 7 years

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Does anyone want to give a bully on here a taste of her own medicine?

I was scared and hesitant to post this because a) I didn't want that horrid monster coming after me and b) I know no one is going to read it because it's so insanely long but I have decided I will. And honestly I just kind of want to delete my tumblr blog even though I’ve had it for more than seven years because I’m just so hurt :’( I’m too sensitive and unstable and borderline for this shit. Especially right now with so many things wrong in my life. My dog has cancer, there's no money for his treatment, I've been unemployed for way too long and have no money left (no money to help my dog, my to pay for anything even the most basic things, and to get help and treatment for all of my very severe and crippling mental disorders, there's barely even any money for food), I'm bitterly and unbearably lonely and depressed and have watched everyone abandon me and forget about me, and I just recently got abandoned by the same person again. Everything has been so unbearable for so long and I just didn't need all of this hate and drama on top of it all.

I can’t believe these are the kind of people tumblr is filled with. Hateful, petty, childish pieces of shit that act like high- schoolers and go out of their way to be hurtful and then cry and play the part of the victim when confronted. I hate that I basically now have to be in hiding and afraid of more harassment and bullying even though I changed my url, disabled comments, and closed my inbox. It (that bitch) could still find me. She's always going to know my url no matter how many times I change it. I’m so afraid. I shouldn’t have to be afraid on tumblr and on my own blog. All because of this piece of shit bitch that plastered my url on her blog, hell bent on slandering me and getting all of her gullible and lackey followers to come on to my blog and send me hate too. How fucking high school can you get. How fucking SHIT do you have to be??? Preaching ~love and kindness~ and then slandering me in a very public place and threatening to call the police on me because she claims that a) I told her to go kill herself ((which I did NOT. I don’t know who that was but it was NOT me. I did call her a bitch (only because she refused to even acknowledge my genuine apology which I DID NOT EVEN OWE HER BECAUSE I AM ALLOWED TO POST WHATEVER I WANT ON MY OWN BLOG, but was so rapt and attentive towards all the other ones from her followers putting me down) but I did NOT tell her to kill herself so right there, another flat out LIE)) and b) to have my IP address (which I feel is another invasion of privacy.) She should not have access to my address and it's bullshit and grossly invasive.

How fucking hypocritical can you get??? I’m too old for this childish high school bullshit. I’m too old and too tired. What a downright fucking cunt. But I am so wound up and agitated and upset right now and just want to GET IT OUT. Since clearly I am never going to get my justice. I have no idea how I'm going to sleep. I already stayed up so many other nights from the fear and anxiety that I would wake up to hate messages. I did absolutely nothing wrong. I say that with complete confidence, which is saying a lot because I’m never confident at all. I would gladly show anyone the goddamn fucking tags that she claims were so “offensive.” I am not afraid or guilty in the smallest amount. I don't even regret making the comment because there was LITERALLY NOTHING offensive about it. And even if this deluded bitch DID get offended, she could have quietly unfollowed me. I wouldn't have given a shit and that would have been the end of that. What made me so angry was that she went out of her way to send me a meanly worded message, ordering me to be nice, on my own fucking blog. As if I owed her that. As if I owed her anything.

And I actually DEGRADED myself by apologizing for something I shouldn’t even have had to apologize for in the first place. I was trying to be the bigger and more mature person, unlike her, and unlike how she was accusing me of the complete opposite. Just the very fact that she kept on posting all of the drama publicly proves her massive immaturity. All of this could have been handled PRIVATELY, as I had intended to do so to begin with. I only requested that she take down my url from her post as a) I did not and have not ever mentioned her url on my own blog and b) it was causing me great anxiety, distress, and fear of her followers coming after me (which a few actually did and I had to block them), but all she did was ignore me and kept on publicly posting my pleas (which clearly were very agitated - so much for the kindness she was so vehemently preaching) so she would keep on getting all of her praise and applause from her clearly retarded followers.

I just want justice. She gets to get away with this and will keep on receiving her praise for bullying and harassing me and I have to just be terrified because my blog is nowhere near as famous as hers and of course I have no one to defend me, as I have so few followers and kept the drama completely off my blog anyway. I’m so angry and hurt and upset. She deserves to be shut down but I know tumblr won’t do anything at all. I can’t stand feeling this powerless. I’m having a legitimate panic attack and I want to cry. I wish there was an option to deactivate instead. And to have the power to shut down someone’s blog. I’m just too scared and upset right now. All because I got upset over being told what to think and say on my own blog. Her message was NOT kindly as she claimed it was. It was rude and almost as if she was ordering me to remove the tags she thought were so offensive. Only it wasn’t even anything offensive at all. I didn’t hurt anyone at all. No one else got offended. If it bothered her so much she could have just quietly unfollowed me and it would have ended there, I wouldn't have cared at all, but she had to go out of her way and tell me what to do on my own blog in a very rude tone. Of course that made me angry, anyone would have gotten angry. Throw on top of that my cocktail of various mental illnesses and of course I got extremely angry. Yet even then. I still DID NOT call her out by name. Like she did to me. This piece of shit HYPOCRITE.

And even more pathetically, the fact that she SAW my angry post about how I didn't deserve her message or any of her bullshit. She had already unfollowed me. So for her to have seen it means that she was literally sitting at her computer, refreshing my blog obsessively, to see what or if I would say anything in response to her very rude and unsolicited message. HOW PATHETIC. And yet another invasion of privacy. She had already UNFOLLOWED me. Of course I wouldn't have made the post if she had still been following me. And furthermore, the point is I DIDN'T MENTION HER NAME OR URL EVEN ONCE IN THE ENTIRE GODDAMN POST. NOWHERE ON MY ENTIRE BLOG IS OR WAS THERE MENTION OF HER URL. So even though it made her upset, it's not like I was publicly calling her out and humiliating her. Nothing like what she did to me. No one knew who I was talking about. It could have been anyone. And no one saw the post anyway because I have such few followers to begin with.

What a sad and truly pathetic person. To sit at home all day and do nothing but tell people what to do while hiding behind the mask of anonymous, then crying and wailing and blubbering when she gets confronted about her rudeness and bullying, and turning to her pathetic and abusive followers to not only praise her for her actions but to get them to come after me too. How. Pathetic. I don’t ever get involved in stuff like this. I always go on tumblr and vent and scream and cry and rant because it’s the only place I can do so, and no one ever cares, and that’s that. I never set out to intentionally hurt anyone and if I do ever vent about someone in my life or that I knew I never mention names and they don’t follow me on here or anything. But now I feel afraid. This is all so shit and so unfair to me. I don’t want to have to close down my seven year old blog all because of what some truly awful bitch and cunt on tumblr did.

I just can’t believe that all of this is due to what someone that preaches softness, kindness, and love but is the complete opposite of all of that did. Nothing but a hypocritical, cruel, and pathetic bully. She never even apologized ONCE for all she caused. This is just TOO MUCH for me. I wish there was something I could do. To cause her as much harm and suffering and distress as she caused me. It’s what she fucking deserves :’(

#i wish someone could go into her inbox and give her what she deserves #i wish she could have been shut down #i wish she could suffer and receive hate and have to suffer as much as i have #personal

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