Apparently the scars from a difficult childhood are not fixed through counseling paid in adolescence.

I will sabotage great things and clench on for dear life of things that bring me harm and anxiety.

The last text from my ex as we’re saying our final angry goodbye’s: “I will love you forever…and fuck you for making me find a way to live without you…bye.”

I pushed him, but only after I was pushed.

I have not believed in love for years. I felt like it was something that you merely tolerated rather than enjoyed. I believed again. Then I saw a red flag in August ‘10. I was pushed. Pushed by something that hurt so deeply, it shattered the little bit of naivety I had left in my damaged soul. I switched to tolerating, while my forgiveness made him love me more. I should have left then.

Love grows. Deeply. In the pores. In the heart. I convince myself that I am deserving of happiness, but there is a voice that says, “Not really silly, silly girl.”

I am smothered in love and afraid to disappoint. I disappoint. Lots of expectations that I’m terrified I will never live up to. I have almost always failed at everything. I try, and I fail, and I break the rules, and I transfer my fears and anxieties to the one I love.

I assure I can live up to all expectations on a vacation amidst the stars and sand. I almost believe myself, almost believe in myself. But there’s that inner voice again.

I continue to fail and disappoint on mundane things that a child without common sense could complete. I feel there is really no hope for me. I feel I will get what I get, and I will get what I deserve— which is nothing.

I self loathe. I separate myself. I form invisible bubble wrap around me and pull the shields up for the inevitable. “No one could stay with a person like me”, I tell myself.

And then I go into full blown, self-sabotage mode and destroy the hearts of everyone standing in my path that love me. The ones who believe in me. I feel and see the signs of alarm as I am in full fledged destroy mode. They want to stop me in time. They cannot.

I am sitting in my home alone. I am lonely, but do not want to call anyone. I am tired but can’t sleep. I deserve to be alone. I deserve to be lonely. And I sure as hell don’t deserve a good nights sleep. I guess this is karma for their sleepless nights on my account.

I will bask and bathe in this feeling, as I deserve it. I’m hoping that if there is a God he will transfer all pain caused back to me, and release it from him.

“…and fuck you for making me find a way to live without you…”

I made you do it. I know. And you will be much better off, you’ll see.

I never deserved you.

miamifavs:

Here. Now, please! “I’m great thanks, you? I’ll start with a mimosa.” The baby chicks running around while eating breakfast is the final touch on perfection.

(Source: stefaniebohde)

I have recently deleted my Facebook page. Not for any real reason For a lot of reasons. A day in my life first consists of waking up to my alarm clock. Most days, instead of getting up to stretch, make a cup of coffee, or take my dog out to potty - I get right on Facebook. I go back in activity until I see posts from the previous night of those whom I creeped right before bed. I get caught-up on the stay-at-home moms who have to get up at a reasonable hour. Their’s usually consists of either talks about a migraine or how blessed they are. Up and at ‘em I go. Shower. Nope, no time because of my Facebook’ing. Dirty ponytail it is. Being blond, I use the lovely trick of sprinkling a little baby powder in the suspicious areas. Oil gone. Coulda fooled me too.

Dog out. Boyfriend kissed (or not) depending on the time. Sigh. Hi-ho. Hi-ho. It’s off to work I go. Light my first cigarette of the day. I sense the taste of toothpaste and nicotine. After all of these years, that has never been something I would consider yummy. But it wakes the heart and the mind by supplying me with the jolt of energy I could only receive by doing 20 jumping jacks. I feel my heart race as I take my second puff, I feel my heart race, and I like it. I concentrate on my heart a little more and think of how it could stop beating one day because of these little treats. I think of how I wanted to quit yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. Guilt shows up, and the reliable self-despising thoughts are now in full gear for the day. “It’s too early for these thoughts”, my inner voice says. I think I’ll Facebook on my handy-dandy iPhone as I drive. *Genius.

Well let’s see. What’s happened in the last 30 minutes? Scroll. Scroll. Hmmph. All caught up. There’s only one or two new posts. These tend to be from other stay-at-home moms who couldn’t status their morning earlier. Now they’ve gotten a breather and it’s chatter about the silly/outrageous/funny/repulsive/irritating thing that their child was doing in the past few hours. At the end never forgetting to add, “…but I’m SoOoOoO blessed!!! :o) rofl lol hee heeee!!!!!!…” Even though I tend to be self-loathing, I’m also a judgemental bitch. I roll my eyes and throw my phone on the charger. “It’s too early for these thoughts”, my inner voice says. Music up. It’ll be classic rock today, good sir! Dire Straights “Sultans Of Swing” comes on. I love this song.

Work, work, work. Can’t wait to get a little breather of nicotine. I get one, finally. I go instantly to my phone and grab a little smokey treat. This one is paired with coffee instead of toothpaste. The combination of this is so, so, so much better than the toothpaste. Why is that? I used to hate coffee, and despised my mother for smoking anywhere in my view. Puff. Sip. I now remember why I smoke. Mmm. Facebook up faster than my heart rate. Now we get to view the ones who are not stay-at-home moms but are in the exact same age group. There’s a couple ‘real’ friends who are talking about how much they “LoVe lOvE LoVe” their boyfriends/their life/their existence, yay! My little judgemental voice snickers while curling up my upper lip at the status. Silly, silly girl. You just called me last night and talked for 45 minutes telling me how much you hate your boyfriend/your life/your existence. Eh, to each their own, girl. Fake it ‘til ya make it. I see a couple self-taken cell phone shots in a mirror showcasing your new hair. Another one uploads a new profile picture that is clearly over-photoshopped. I would kill to look like you. I’ve seen your pores in real life. They’re small. Why did you smooth until you looked two-dimensional? I look at the 9 comments and 5 likes although you just posted it six minutes ago. I think, “Good job girl. This one must be a keeper.” I read the comments then. I go through the “you’re sooo pretty“‘s and see your reply. It’s, “Oh noooo I’m not, but thanx!”. Then, “oooo yes u rrrrr, I would DIE to look like you!”. Then finally, “Ugh! This is such a bad bad bad picture of me, ew! But thanx!”. Oh fuck. You clearly spent your night before photoshop’ing this picture. Shut the fuck up. Phone off. Eye roll. Last puff. Back in.

The day at work ends and I leave. Hop in the car. Ahhhh, it feels good to sit down. I have a running list of things that need to be done. This is a cycle I do every single day. While at work, I think of all the things I could/should be doing while there. Then, I’m off work with ample time in my evening. I start to assess what should be done. Eh. Who fucking cares. My back hurts. I’ll just head home. The road home is boring. I think I’ll Facebook and drive again. *Genius.

Now we get to the good stuff. Well, not really. Facebook used to be good up until a year or two ago. Remember the days of people airing every detail on their status updates? I mean, every detail. To discuss this with a girlfriend, one might say that’s exactly how it still is. But I disagree. Now we’re on vague’s playground. Maybe it’s the backlash of previous dramatic updates that have negatively impacted one’s life. Who knows. But I don’t like it. I used to see fights between two scorned lovers and gather from a 10 comment feed or wall-to-wall that one cheated on the other on Saturday night at ____’s house -and the other called his mom to tell her what a piece of shit her son was - and then he rants on how he could have ever dated such a psycho. Those were the good ‘ole days. Now, it’s just, “Worst day of my life” or “How could you?!”. I get giddy and pull up the comments. Hell yeahhhh, there’s 27 of them. None of which tell me anything. Saying without saying, eh trickster? Lots of “praying for you“‘s, lots of “I can’t believe it either!“‘s - but no bread and butter. Ohhhhh, fuck off mmkay? Why even say anything? Better yet, why do I care? Phone off. I’m so irritated I’ll even set in on my passenger seat because I’m so disgusted with you and me.

Now I’m home. Puppy is let out. What were those things I wanted to do all day that I couldn’t? Ahh, those. Yeah. Well that’s no good. I just don’t want to. I think I’ll go watch some Netflix for a few hours before bed. There’s always tomorrow, right? I catch up on some newly-released documentaries. I love these way more than regular movies. I have found that I actually have shit to talk about now over wine with adults. Wait, I am an adult. You know what I mean. I gain some more knowledge on one-sided topics of the directer and creator. I may agree or disagree, but I feel smarter. I have an opinion. I think about what my opinion is and wonder if the director was also a psych major and tricked me into thinking this was my own opinion - when they clearly made a movie wanting me to have their opinion. “It’s too late for these thoughts”, my inner voice says. I think I’ll Facebook with my tired eyes.

I scroll back to the status’ of the last vagueness my eyes crept. Now it’s people bitching about the weather and their shitty day at work. It’s too cold! It’s too wet! It’s too dry! My allergies! Thank goodness it’s hump day! Can’t wait ‘til Friday! I need to go back to school because this isn’t my passion! But always ending it with, “…but I’m SoOoOoO blessed!!! :o) rofl lol hee heeee!!!!!!…” Oh, brother. Why am I so irritated by this? I’m the one that gets on this machine every chance I get to kill time. “It’s too late for these thoughts”, my inner voice says. Time for some shut eye.

I wake up to the alarm. My mind is groggy and I dig out the sleep from my eyes. I think about all the things I could get done today - but I have to work. Damn. If I could just get a day off, the things I could do! I’ll make a list today like I did yesterday; no big deal. I reach for my phone to check Facebook. I start at where I left the night before. In between, I see a few drunk updates by people my age and I judge them. It wasn’t even thirsty Thursday, for God’s sake.

Rinse, and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat - until now.

I have become a self-loathing person at times. I think if the world could really see who I am, what’s really on my mind, it would not be pretty. But instead I do what all of the other people do. I try to appear ‘together’. I try to sound positive. I only upload pictures that are at a good angle with lucky lighting.

The way that I judge those on a three hour rotation of my day is exactly what is being done to me. That bothers me. I look at my own profile. If I were a stranger, would I find me like-able? Would I be annoyed by me? Would I roll my eyes and toss my phone? I would. Because shit is never that bad. No one really works out or runs that much. No one really loves their life to the point of saying it on the regular. We are all trying to be liked. We are all wanting acceptance and love. And while they may be happy, and they may love their life, and they may really have just finished the last page of the bible - I don’t care. Just the same as they don’t really care. But I’ll guarantee that as much as my upper lip curls up and I snicker at them while judging to the maximum…they are to me too.

I deleted my Facebook page hoping to see if my relationships have improved. They already have. People have actually called me to say hello. They fill me in on how much they love/hate their lives - but there is a sincerity in their voice. A sincerity that I have missed more than I realized. I thought I would go nuts without it. I did not. I thought I would give it a week and see. I did not. I don’t want to. It feels very freeing.

….and then I created a tumblr account. O.O ….

tumblrbot asked: WHERE WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO VISIT ON YOUR PLANET?

I would love to see Australia, but for now I’d settle for my favorite place - Key West, Fl. There’s a little restaurant called Blue Heaven that I would do a lot of things to be having breakfast there right now.

movementsandmountains:

I’ve seen a lot of bird’s nest accessories lately. Rings, bracelets, necklaces.

Since I’m too cheap (poor) to buy a fancy one off etsy I decided to make my own and share the word.

First you’ll need some wire (my boyfriend is an electronic engineer so we have lots lying around but you can always…

Love this.