Tag Archives: Devastation

My Own Bubble

Over the course of the last decade, I’ve transformed from someone surrounded with what I thought were loyal, caring people, to being utterly alone. As it turned out, none of those people were actually there when it mattered, so one day, I just decided that enough was enough, and said to hell with everyone.

Not exactly an easy decision when you’ve always had friends around you, or so you thought. It seems though that it’s now easier for me to just be with myself, my husband, and my daughter, and shut out the rest of the world. Some would attribute this to my depression, but it’s never been able to drive me this far from who I am.

Perhaps, instead, I’ve simply evolved into some other kind of person, one unrecognizable to myself, yet a person who’s better equipped to stand on their own. This was something I always struggled with, being alone, so I always chose not to be. Now that the option is mine, and while I won’t say it’s ideal, I won’t allow people into my life who don’t make me feel certain that they’re intentions are for the best.

After the ways I’ve been hurt, one of my biggest goals in life is to help steer my daughter away from those who don’t deserve her time, attention, love, and loyalty. Obviously someone will hurt her at some point, but I’ll help her from keeping them around for too long, as that was one of my biggest faults in life.

There’s a part of me that honestly wonders if I’ll ever be able to allow someone in, if I can ever trust someone a friend again, and how I’ll even meet someone is beyond me. My daughter is my life, and most of my time is spent at home with her, or cleaning, or grocery shopping, etc. I’m hopeful that I’ll find someone soon, but I’m not out there searching for you. Maybe you’ll find your way to me, eventually.

Bubble

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Astonish Me

Dazzle me with brilliance, evoke me with your pain. Please just help me feel anything but mundane. I seek and I seek, finding nothing each time, yet I still can’t help but seek some other life. Another time, another place, with another girl, a different face, maybe then I could be great.

I’ve tried and yet I can’t forget the person I’ve become, I’m desperate to remember who I was earlier in life. Once I valued my opinions, heeded my own advice, now all I’m good for is giving it to those who don’t even want it.

I’ve emptied out, a hollow shell, I’m not who I once was. The hardest part is not blaming others, and accepting my own role. It’s just that I’ve been broken so many times before, I can’t find all the pieces, they don’t fit like before.

Astonish

Three Month Lull

Wow, I can’t believe it’s been almost three months since I last posted. To all of my followers, I’m sorry for being so unreliable! If you’ve read a decent amount of my posts, you’ll know enough to know that when life gets tough, I tend to pack it in and call it until things simmer down.

This time, though, I’m forcing myself back out of my shell. Depression is a never ending force in the lives of those who’ve experienced it, which I reckon is just about everyone these days.

Some days are better than others, as with any other illness or whatever else, but there are times you’re just sucked into these long patches of it. It leaves you feeling helpless and insignificant, yet the only person to blame is yourself.

We allow it to consume us, at times we fight, but generally, we’ve accepted that there’s nothing we can do other than just to bear down and weather the storm.

When frustrations hits it’s all time high though, sometimes I actually do things like this, have to actually force myself back into something that I know I love and need. Sometimes I think I’m punishing myself for being depressed by depriving myself of things I love, so this is me testing the waters, so to speak.

I hate posts like this, writing them, not reading them, because at least when I’m reading them, I feel moved to see someone trying to come out. Yet when it comes to myself, this just feels useless and forced, and that’s the total opposite of what I love about writing.

Sometimes doing counterintuitive things can be good for you, maybe I’ll grow from it, but I can never be sure anymore. I’m currently always battling myself when it comes to trusting my instincts, but I usually hate going outside of that box.

What I really need, more than anything in life, is a real life, genuine, actual friend. I haven’t been connecting for years now and I truly think it’s put me on this downward spiral I feel stuck on now.

Anyways, thanks for reading and understanding as always. Hopefully I’ll push something good out soon, but for now, this was a start, and we’ll just have to see where it goes.

Tragic Tendencies

I tend to care for others before caring to myself, and it’s been so long since I’ve done it that I think I’ve forgotten how. I haven’t put my own self first in far too long, this much I know is true, but family comes first, they’re all I have to keep me alive and motivate me to keep fighting for life.

I’m struggling now to figure out what I should already know, so bare with me as I progress, for sometimes I’m not around. I’m not always reliable, not that I won’t try, but my body gets the best of me, chronic pain keeps me bogged down. My mind, it tends to follow when I’m overwhelmed with pain, so then depressions creeps back in and takes me prisoner again.

I’ll disappear for weeks and months, sometimes it turns to years, but seldom am I ever asked how I’m doing or feeling. Why reach out to others, if they don’t think of you? I think about them often and yet I never hear a word. If you care, as you say, and you think of me as well, then why is it you can’t take time to ask me about myself?

Is it because I’m some small reminder of a past you pretend you never led? Or is it that you can’t be bothered to comfort someone when you can’t understand the pain they’re in, that it’s easier to pretend there’s not people always suffering? Well it’s my life, so forget me or not, I’m stuck living a life you could never handle.

Tend

Never Enough

I try my best to be thankful for the little things I have, but it’s difficult when there’s always something new to bring us down. Money makes the world go round, so they say, I wouldn’t know. But I do know that needing more is stealing my joy and hope. My daughter loves me so, we’re as close as close can be, but because of her own issues, sometimes that’s hard for her to see. Our home is an apartment filled with neighbors who have tried to do everything in their power to get us kicked to the curb.

My husband is my best friend, and for years my only friend. We’ve been to hell and back together, an extremely difficult path. At first it began with us chasing our dreams, and oh did we get close. But now our lives consist of trying to figure out how to support us. We haven’t been alone in well over a year, I’ve never had a babysitter, and our daughter won’t tolerate being alone with strangers. I wish and try to find a way for us to live our lives to the most, instead we spend our days scared that we may not survive.

But having them alone should simply be enough for me, and gratitude is a feeling that is quite unknown to me. I’ve spent most of my life focusing on how to stay alive, I’m not quite sure I can figure out how to live a life instead. I’m trying to be better, to improve for my little girl, working out, eating better, never smoking in front of her. And yet them bigger issues in myself elude me so, I need some help to find myself before I get too old.

Gratitude

What I’d Prefer…

Let’s talk about the life I’d rather lead, one where my family is happy and healthy. A life where I’m free from constant pain, where every single day doesn’t seem like a drain. A modicum of truth that we all must accept is that the only certainty to life is that it ends with our deaths. It’s morbid, most say, to think and live this way, but I think of it as simply being a realist.

I haven’t always been this jaded, it’s a result of decades of feeling unappreciated. I put so many others before myself, I forgot that I’m supposed to take care of myself. That’s one of the hardest things to do when there isn’t anything that can help fix you. The pain I feel now will only get worse, to the point where one day I’m unable to move. It’s sad for me to now admit that I’d rather die before that day hits.

A ray of sunshine used to shine light onto everything that’s ever been dark in my life, but I find myself lately trying to avoid it, afraid for anyone to see who I’ve turned into. I can’t help myself but feel ashamed that I’ve let the world make me this way, this isn’t who I wanna be, and I’m trying my best to get back to being me.

Prefer

Surrealism in Reality

Ever have something completely terrible happen to you? I’m talking the kinda shit that makes you wanna cease to exist, the stuff that makes you wish you were never born? I find those things happening to me more and more as life goes on, yet I’m still so taken aback, so surprised and overwhelmed, and I never know quite how to respond.

In these moments, I find myself feeling a sense of surrealism, wondering if it’s really my life, if it’s a nightmare, or if it’s even real at all. But it’s very much reality, life can be torturous and unfortunate and completely and totally unfair, but we must continue on our journey for those we love, for those who love us.

We can’t just give up every time life throws us a curveball, but we can cut ourselves some slack and allow ourselves a break to readjust and let the dust settle before we jump back in. We’ve been reprogrammed to believe and think and feel that crying means weakness, but in my humble opinion, it’s the exact opposite really.

If we deny ourselves the one thing our bodies are programmed to do when something awful happens, how can we truly heal our wounds? If we don’t let ourselves fall down, how will we ever learn to get back up again? And furthermore, what example is that setting for our children, the future generation that we’re raising?

Surreal

Preserve the Arts in Schools

Fine arts programs and coursework has been steadily disappearing for too many consecutive years now. In poor and struggling communities, arts are the first thing to get thrown out of schools, but from my own personal experiences, those are often the students who can most benefit from music and arts.

As someone who grew up constantly changing homes, foster homes, family members, friends, there was only ever one constant in my life. No matter where I lived, I had to go to school, and fortunately for me, every school I attended had a choir. Music was my life because it brought me stability, it made me feel understood, and from I became better equipped to express myself emotionally.

The thought that there are children struggling through life who are now being deprived of and having taken from them potentially the only thing that can help them cope or deal, absolutely fucking kills me inside. Get out and vote to keep your local public arts education programs fully funded and intact, our youth will thank you!