january 23 2023
after a year my flashbacks have come back. i'm not healed.

it's fine. it's fine.

it really bothers him that i mask constantly. that i can describe all my past with a smile on my face and a giggle at the end. i get it, it's weird. but it deeply upsets him. he just doesn't understand.

he brought up therapy for me again tonight. i told him the truth - that i'm terrified of the final piece of the puzzle. and i need support if it's going to happen. i'm scared that i will try to kill myself again, and i will need to go away to get help - meaning he needs to be able to support us.

there were tears streaming down my cheeks when i said this. i didn't feel or notice them, but he pointed them out. he liked that i had some feelings. some feelings i wasn't trying to express.

but that's where we're at. trying to suppress all of this for as long as i can.

and with his dad on his deathbed. and us possibly having to move in with him. and the change in all of my life plans. i really don't know how long i can keep these flashbacks at bay.

listening to: bauhaus

january 23 2023
he said he thought about leaving me.

not because he wants to, but that it'd be better for me.

god, i feel like such a piece of shit.

listening to: placebo

january 16 2023
is this it? is this all my life will amount to be?

get drunk every weekend. sit outside in the overgrown garden. wait for the day to end. then get high because there's no other way i could possibly sleep.

rinse / repeat. throw in a few hours of work.

i'll never again go get drinks with friends, or lunch with coworkers. be invited to a party. never been invited to a wedding, anyway. or have my parents want to see me for the holidays.

like... this is it.

_just waiting_ and alone. with nothing to look forward to.

how horrible of a human being must i be that my own best friends never wanted to talk to me again?
i tried. i know i have issues, but god i tried.

listening to: mount eerie

january 07 2023
god, just throw it away. i'm so done with it all. this isn't me anymore. i don't feel anything. but i don't feel any better.

just this fucking state of limbo that i don't think i'll ever shake. wanting better. all of the time. and unable to achieve it.

i don't know.

my thoughts don't flow without my depression. and my fragmented sentences are even worse. i feel more broken than ever before. there's no way to express myself anymore. i drink, and drink, and drink.

i want my heart back. is that sick?

i don't know how to be fine.

i don't know how to feel without sadness.

listening to: arab strap

december 18 2022
i don't want to be reminded of your birthday. or that you're still alive. i don't want to know how successful you are. or be reminded that they love you more than they ever loved me.

i've tried erasing you out of my life the best i can. but your name still finds a way to creep in. and it's just not fucking fair.

haven't i been through enough?

november 21 2022
i don't know. i'm finding it so much harder to write in here. am i past it all? or am i suppressing it deeper? i don't know. and i just don't care anymore. it's exhausting. and i'm so very tired of it.

i drink, alone, and hope that some sort of emotion awakens. but lately it hasn't. today it's a half-felt melancholy to the holidays.

i'm thinking back to thanksgiving, or christmas, or any life event, and i realize my own parents have never invited me to spend it with them. not when we were in the same city. not in the same state. not in the same country. and obviously not out here.

don't get me wrong, they celebrate the holidays. and my brother is always invited.

i never have been. and when i ask i'm told i can visit them in january, if i want.

you can always tell they don't mean it.

even my own (non-existent) wedding. they told me they didn't see a reason to come to my country. but if i had it in italy and paid for them, they'd come. because that's somewhere they always wanted to visit.

in the 19 years of living alone they have never once visited me. never once invited me over. never asked to just grab lunch.

and yeah, it hurts. i'm surprised i never really thought about this sooner.

like, they must absolutely hate me. and i don't know why.

november 7 2022
so, about the other night. i drank myself into oblivion. you still have that effect on me.

i wish we were still friends. i can still hear your voice so clearly in my head. and the way you made me smile. and laugh. and forget about everything else.

and, god, i want you in my life. and i want to make your life better. but here i am just exiting out of these messages because i know they're no good.

you're drunk. and you're being selfish. and you won't reply once you're sober.

what happened to you?

october 14 2022
i miss you. and so i google your name. mostly to make sure you're still alive. there's a picture of you on your company website. you look happy, healthy. what am i doing this for?

diving deeper in. you have two kids now. you swore you would never have any. they always do. your kids have really unique names, i assume that's your wife's doing.

and that wife. that's the same one you married the day after you messaged me that final time. begging me to run away with you. _i never replied_ i'm glad i didn't.

but i still miss you. and i only hope the best for you.

it doesn't matter if you've forgotten about me.

listening to: björk - unravel

october 10 2022
sometimes i wonder what i'd be like if the past year and a half never took place. if my memories never came back. if my mother didn't text me that january morning saying my brother accused my father of doing x, y, and z.

he didn't. to my knowledge. there are some faceless monsters, and he was a terrible father, but i don't think he did.

my brother was admitting to his own wrongdoings.

life was so simple before. everyone else was the problem. they were toxic. i made bad friends. i was a mess. blame it on the alcohol.

i don't like how it all makes sense now. how i am the problem. how i'm broken, and everyone can see that. and no one wants to be around it. how this fucking gaping hole in my chest is here for a good reason. and it can never be healed.

and i'm just stuck like this. and i don't think there will ever be a cure for me.

it's. not. fair.

keep struggling, diana. keep struggling.

september 28 2022
when i was five my parents threw me a birthday party at the park across the street from school. all of my classmates were invited, along with all the neighborhood kids. i remember being so excited - getting out of class and seeing all the balloons and streamers at the park and knowing they were for me.

and i remember sitting on that picnic bench, surrounded by the treats and games, wondering why no one had come yet. eventually the park started to fill with kids i didn't know. they came up and asked for some cake.

throwing all of the decorations into trash bags, and dragging them back home.

it didn't happen again because i didn't allow it to.

until i was ready to leave for new zealand. it was my birthday, my (now) husband was coming out for a visit, i had a best friend i was inseparable with, a huge group friends i hung out with daily. it'd be something to remember. i couldn't really afford it, but i made it happen. i wanted us to all have one last amazing time together.

sitting in front of that fucking bonfire. checking my phone. looking around. checking my phone again.

after midnight my best friend texted, wanting to know how the party is going. she wasn't feeling it. no one else even bothered.

okay, it doesn't matter. who needs those friends. we're going to go meet up with my favourite aunt and my parents, they'll meet my future husband, then i'll be off in another country soon anyway.

the next day my mom texts me that the mini-reunion isn't going to happen. she and my father decided to take my brother and his now (ex) girlfriend on a vacation instead. they can still skype me in new zealand, right?

not sure if i'll ever forgive them for that. i know i shouldn't.

i wish i still would have met up with my aunt. she died shortly after.

september 17 2022

i didn't sleep last night. most nights i drink that much i don't sleep at all.

and i usually lie awake and revisit every moment i've been wronged. and i analyse it. and i feel sorry for myself.

last night was different. i blamed myself this time. i blamed myself for the abusive relationships. the toxic friendships. my mother not loving me. being raped x2. being a messy drunk. everything.

and god, all i wanted to do was cut my arms open. i wanted to feel the tiniest bit of control in my life, because lord knows that i don't have any at all. no matter how hard i work, i will never actually have a say. i will never be enough.

and this all seeps into my healing. i've suppressed these memories for 30 years. and the feelings? they're still missing, and i don't know if i'll ever discover them. i can't afford to. i have no one to fall back on. there's no one capable of picking up the pieces if i fall apart. i need to stay strong to survive.

i am just so unbelievably stuck.

september 16 2022
what's the point of asking for help? i don't understand how everyone else gets heard. why their feelings are worth something but mine aren't. i don't even get the kindness of a few fake reassurances.

immediately on the defensive. i'm wrong. i'm wrong.

rewind to may 5, 2013. i called my only friend out there that morning. and i begged, i mean i begged for help. she knew everything. she'd been in that position herself before. she'd seen the bruises. she held my phone while the threats rolled in. she knew.

it was only 7am. but she texted back, that she's sorry but she has a brunch to go to. she hopes i'm okay. and i didn't know what to do, so i drove to an empty parking lot and waited for hours. i tried contacting anyone else, but they wouldn't pick up.

it wasn't until days or weeks later, but i remember scrolling through facebook and seeing her check-ins and photos from her brunch. a check-in at 1:30pm.

and then my boss of a decade. i can't really fault him. but i was to be on vacation the next week. and i simply asked if i could switch the weeks and have this one off. he wouldn't allow it.

maybe it was payback for lying about my black eye a week before. or all those times he tried to get me to confess where these bruises and my limping came from.

it still hurt though. i just needed time to get out of there before he was released. and i didn't get it.

and so he showed back up the day i was moving out. i had a stupid 2 seater sports car. i was almost moved into my new place, i just had to grab my cats. but only one would fit in my car at a time.

i never got my little girl back. i had her for 15 years at that point. she was blind, toothless, and mostly deaf. she needed me.

i tried. i tried for nearly a fucking year to get her back. pretending i wanted to be back with him. just to try to sneak her out.

it never fucking worked. he held her hostage. and he always caught me. i'm sorry, buttercup. you deserved so much better.

and back to being let-down... the icing on the cake was my mother. he made sure i was broke before he did it. i had no money to move out. and i called my mom. i told her what happened. and i told her i could get an apartment of my own, i just needed help with the $150 deposit.

and she told me to give him another chance.

because who else would want to be with me.

and she refused to help me.

and in case you wanted to know, it was the random girl working at the apartment complex that saw the bruises on my neck. she asked if i had a bad break up. and i said yes. she waived the deposit and got me a place that same week.

september 5 2022
i think it's time to accept that i don't know you. and you don't know me. sure, you come to me in your darkest moments. and i try my hardest to help see you through. but where are you in mine? when was the last time you even asked how i'm doing?

i was okay with just ignoring it all. for the longest time. because you were the only friend i have left.

but i'm not saying goodbye. i'm not ending anything. i'm just finally understanding it all. that i'm the person you come to when you need to talk and you're too embarrassed to tell anyone else.

i'm your secret. i'm everyone's secret.

it hurts. and i'm choking up. and i'm trying not to cry.

i wish i could just be normal. i wish i could have a friend.

september 4 2022

september 1 2022
an afternoon alone. it's been months. and i finally feel what i've been after. that crushing loneliness. the building pressure behind your eyes. the sadness that aches all over your body.

god, i've missed it.

i've been chasing this with alcohol for so long. but it's the safety of being alone i need.

i feel like such a fucking robot all of the time.

listening to: unwound

august 28 2022
the days are long. i'm not drinking. i count my calories. i try to exercise. i'm trying.

i really don't know what else to do. it's like my healing is on hold. i have all of these memories... these horrible moments. but no emotions about them outside of the flashbacks that i used to have. none of it feels real. it didn't happen to me.

but maybe this is what i need. a break from the hell i've been trapped in for the past few years. maybe i need to build myself back up before i can break down again.

i don't know. i feel incomplete, but i'm tried of trying to force the sadness. force the emotions. i can't keep drinking to feel.

august 18 2022
you don't have to be afraid to be high around me.

oh, you have it wrong. i'm afraid to exist around anyone. even you.

i wish it did something more for me. slightly limp appendages. and a fog crowding my brain.

i'd rather forget. and obsess. and feel.

listening to: liars - xixiw

august 15 2022
i keep coming back to this one moment in time. five years old. sitting in the middle of my room, sobbing. my brother must have beaten me up. and my parents did their thing, screaming at me to go away.

and so i went. and i waited. and waited.

and no one came.

hours passed. and still no one came to check up on me.

and so the fantasies started. dead, all of them. in a car crash. and my kindergarten teacher would adopt me and finally i was loved. we'd have tea parties. she wanted to spend time with me. i was happy.

i get it, my parents were overwhelmed with him. he took all of their energy.

but they forgot about me in the process. and i feel like this is the root of all of my problems. i had no one to protect me. i had no one to love me. i had no one that i could turn to.

and i feel like everything i went through would have not fucked me up so bad if i had a single person i could go to for support. just a pat on the back and "everything's going to be alright" could have saved me.

i'm afraid i will always be this scared and unloved little girl.

july 31 2022
i logged into facebook for the first time in ages and i was confronted with pictures of my brother. i didn't realize we shared the same acquaintances.

and it's weird. i don't even recognize this person. and i'm not sure if i would, or if i should. he's just a faceless monster of my past.

he actually looks a lot like my father, now. it makes me uneasy.

i've spent so much time trying to erase him from my life, but he's always hiding around the corner. i guess that will always be a problem when he's still alive.

sometimes i fantasize about telling everyone the truth. but would they believe me? i doubt it. he can do no wrong. he's the favorite.

july 11 2022
i cried last night. you rubbed my back. you never asked what was wrong, but you told me, "shhh... don't be sad." you sounded annoyed.

and i snapped. that sounds worse than it is. i just got out of bed and went to my office.

i'm tired of having to hide my emotions. i'm tired of not being allowed to speak up. i'm tired of being the only one that cares.

when i came back you were gone. i had nightmares about you. and when i woke your side of the bed was still empty.

so, i came back to my office. the winter air blowing in. this uncomfortable chair. the beige walls. i don't know what i'm doing or what waiting for. maybe for the day to end.

i don't understand what this game is about.

july 01 2022
aimlessly driving. it was our thing. our way to escape the chaos at home. and during those moments i felt a bond between us.

sometimes we'd get lost exploring the farmlands in somis. or up through the malibu coast. i'd always pick out any house with a veranda and say i want to live there. i so longed for a traditional, normal life.

and sometimes we'd drive to a store two hours away. even though we had that same store in our town.

or the hours getting lost in suburbia seeking out christmas lights. you'd always sing silver bells.

when i was older, and i'd stumble home at 2am, you were waiting up, ready to take me the furthest taco joint we could find.

i don't have a lot of happy memories, i usually struggle to think of any. but this, i think this might be one.

feeling: sleep deprived

june 30 2022
trying to get something deep and personal written. but fuck, i'm just so stressed out.

i alternate between crying in the bath and drowning in a cask of red wine because i just don't know how else to cope anymore.

no one is ever going to come save me. i can't depend on him. it's just me, like it's always been.

and i don't know how i can ever be enough.

the fairytales were a lie. things only get worse for us broken people. there's no way out.

i try so hard. this isn't fair.

listening to: 5.17

june 17 2022
you know what - i haven't had a flashback in months. they almost became a comfort in a way. that it was all real. that i'm fucked up for a good reason.

and without them... every day is the same. the memories are distant. i feel nothing for that little girl. i feel no reason to heal. i'm back to being numb.

but why do i still feel so completely out of control? i reminisce about my past of self-destruction. the scars on my arms. i won't... but fuck. how have i regressed this much?

and he doesn't get it. he hates when i bring up any of my true feelings.

[i'm trapped]

listening to: placebo

june 09 2022

earlier this week i almost wrote an entry about how renewed i felt. how free i felt. how i was ready to finally be something more.

god, how short lived that was.

is this a breakdown? have i finally hit my limit? i can't go a minute without crying. the simpliest tasks seem near impossible. and you. you always show up in my dreams when things are at their worst. and here you are, night after night, half-heartedly telling me not to jump. but i do it anyway, waking up to disappointment.

i wish it were that easy.

may 31 2022
a love letter from my old friend. 17 years in the making. i shouldn't be reading this. i shouldn't be entertaining these thoughts. i shouldn't be flooded with these emotions. or crying this hard.

i'll always wonder what if...


the resentment has been growing these past few months. and i don't like what it's turned me into.

i finally told him how i've been feeling. tears were shed. promises of being better. we'll see.


all the anonymous hate messages and relationship advice i've received from here has been hard to read. maybe because there's some truth in it that i don't want to admit. or maybe it's because i've allowed people to paint an image of me that's made up of my darkest moments, my most selfish thoughts. it's not me!

oh, but it is. it really is.

may 15 2022
i try not to speak badly about the one i'm with. it's cancer. everyone else will forever see red flags.

but this is my secret fucking diary. i've shared being raped, beaten, molested. how bad is some marital unhappiness?

i feel more shame about this than anything else i've been through. i'm too drunk to explain why.

he's not attracted to me.

i always thought i was pretty. and i've tried so hard to maintain it.

but beyond the friendship and the love there's been something missing. he doesn't want to kiss me. he doesn't want to touch me. he doesn't want to look at me.

i'm not good enough. and i never will be.

listening to: pedro the lion

may 15 2022
i am desperate for human interaction. but i won't do anything about it. i probably deserve this.

may 03 2022
just let it all go.

it doesn't matter. this is how things are. and how they'll always be.

and i'm reminded of all the times i've felt so utterly alone. unwanted. unheard.

and i tell myself it's my broken brain. making the worst out of every situation. that the sinking feeling in my chest is completely made up.

if it were so made up i probably would have had one real friend throughout my life. one person that didn't use me. one person that felt as close to me as i do to them.

just how horrible of a human being am i?

listening to: the sea and cake

april 28 2022
let me just slip away into this bottle. i want to drown. i don't know exactly what i heard, but i know it wasn't good. it wasn't right. secrets i was never supposed to know.

i feel so... sigh.

listening to: cursive

april 27 2022
i guess it's officially autumn. there's still the sense of disconnect. my brain is always on northern hemisphere mode.

i like being in oversized sweaters. the dogs demanding a cuddle in the middle of the night. the girl cat shyfully asking for my lap. it feels good to be wanted - even if it's just for my warmth.

i'm trying to enjoy it. i am. as i sit outside, all bundled up, with a bottle of red. i said i wasn't going to drink this week. really. but my job. my career. god, is it possible to get a demotion? i'm not cut out for this. i fantasize about telling my boss this nearly every single night. but i can't. and i won't. because nothing would change. there's no one else to fill my place.

i'm stuck.

i am so burnt out.

listening to: life in a glasshouse

april 25 2022
i drink to feel. i've probably said this before. but lately, it hasn't been working. i drink and drink and drink and i'm still _numb_. i feel more broken than ever because there is no outlet. but outlet for what? i feel nothing day to day. i just exist to work. and cook. and clean. and take care of everyone else.

i fear i took a wrong turn during my self-healing. that i fucked myself up even more. i shouldn't be disassociating like this.

april 11 2022
2am. construction happening outside. it's freezing, yet i still have every door and window open. another sleepless night because i drank too much. god, i hate myself.

i used to put myself to sleep by imagining scenarios where one of my abusers would attack me and leave me for dead. unlike real life, this always happened in public. and someone i knew would come along and find me. sometimes, they'd comfort me, but most often the fantasy would end there. it was enough that someone saw what was happening to me. that my trauma was real.

that doesn't work for me anymore. i like to think that i'm finally healing, but i think the reality is that there's no one left to come along and find me. i've pushed everyone away for so long that even i don't want them anymore.

anyway, i miss my little fantasies. i miss sleep. i really need to stop drinking so damn much.

feeling: defeated

march 28 2022
there's an ongoing theme in our relationship. that he's too fragile to deal with me. to deal with anything, really.

i used to throw myself at him. he would get angry and turn me away. leaving me feeling so humiliated and foolish. naturally, i stopped. he wonders why i'm so cold now.

i used to ask about the future. marriage, finances, children. all shot down, because he wasn't ready for the conversation. eventually i started making plans to move back to america -- and only then did he finally propose.

he still talks about having kids, and i let him have his fantasies. he doesn't know that we needed to start years ago due to my condition, but i just don't fucking care anymore. i tried so many times to tell him, i really did.

and now his job. quit? fired? just never fucking went back? i don't know, because he refuses to discuss it. but i'm expected to pick up all his slack while he plays video games all day.

and the past few times i've had a flashback, i tried to tell him in not too much detail what it was about. nope. he's having none of it. my trauma, my emotions, need to wait. is it even considered waiting if there's no chance it will ever happen?

and fuck, i'm now realizing that i'm reliving these traumatic events as if it's the first time they've ever happened, and my life-long partner, my husband, can't even be bothered to listen to the few words i have to say or hold me while i cry.

oh god, what did i get myself into?

last night he accused me of not sharing anything with him. me - the open book. me - who overshares at every given opportunity.

and i don't know, but my gut is telling me something is wrong.

march 16 2022
growing up my mother told me this story about how her mom drowned her favorite puppy in the bathtub in front of her. over the years the story changed a bit - a litter of puppies, a kitten, rabbits, etc.

i never personally checked with her siblings, but no one else ever mentioned this happening.

the last time i saw my mother, nearly a decade ago, we went out to dinner and had a few margaritas. she was quickly drunk. and there, in the middle of the restaurant, she had her first flashback. and i only realize this now, of course. at the time it seemed like an effect of the alcohol - maybe she was just a sad drunk.

anyway, i get her home and she told me what she remembered.

she was young, still in elementary school, and walking home when two men started following her. i'm not sure if it was on foot or in a car, but she sensed danger and tried to run away. she made it into a shop and tried to hide, but the men found her and carried her out.

she then remembers being in a strange house, and the men kept burning her with their cigarettes. she kept crying; she didn't want to be burned any more. and there were two other children with her, a boy and a girl.

then it was bath time. she was put into the bath with the two other children. one was already dead. she doesn't remember if she saw the other one being drowned.

somehow she escaped. her parents ended up shipping her off to live with a distant relative in another state. and that was the end of her memory.

this story has been on my mind lately. true or not, something definitely traumatized her for life.

i place a lot of blame on her. for neglecting me so badly, abusing me, and being such a damn narcissist. but i'm starting to feel sorry for her, and for myself.

i always thought she didn't love me because i wasn't good enough. and so i've spent my entire life trying to be perfect.

the truth of it is, she has her own trauma that she's never confronted or healed from. she was completely incapable of being a nurturing mother to me.

and yes, she still has plenty of blame. there are things that i'm sure i'll never forgive her for. and we'll probably never have a good relationship. but it wasn't my fault.

i was good enough.

i was lovable.

she was incapable.

march 07 2022
i've been really resentful and upset about our situation. it's been three months since he's worked, and his phone is still off. refusing to talk to any of his clients. and he had such an amazing job, he was happy, and gave it up why? he worked from home 90% of the time. i just don't get it. and i'm too afraid to ask. he doesn't like to tell me anything ever. sometimes i wonder what type of partership this even is.

my entire life i've just felt used by people. for my love. my money. my body. i'll be honest, i've never been in a relationship where i wasn't the breadwinner. i've never had someone pay half the rent. half the utilities. any of the groceries. but to fawn is my trauma response. smile, and make everything okay.

but i'm starting to feel really used. my mental health is at an all time low. i struggle every single day just to exist. why does he just get to have a vacation from life, when he didnt contribute to anything anyway? why is it all on me to take care of everyone and everything? why can't someone love me for once? take care of me?

i don't get to have children. i'll probably never afford to own a home in this country. and at this point i'll never get to retire. but he can just quit his job and not say a word. because i'll take care of it all. it's not fair. it's not fair. it's not fair.

march 04 2022
i wasn't planning on writing about this. maybe something about the pandemic in new zealand. or something mundane. but this has been on my mind for weeks, if not months, and i'm drunk enough.

how did no one know? why didn't anyone say something?

repeatedly at the doctor's. the same issue, time and time again. a four year old shouldn't be experiencing this.

and my teachers. for how many years? it was the most classic sign. did you just ignore it?

how could every adult that encountered me just turn a blind eye?

i always tried to tell myself that my feelings of being unloved and worthless were all in my mind. but this revelation... i'm quite certain i've never been cared for. by anyone.

and i guess i need to touch on this... or maybe i don't... but my mom...

god, she knew. she knew.

and i don't know why. i know she doesn't love me as much as him. i'm not the favorite. but did she love me at all?

why did she let this happen? and for so long?

feeling: oh hi let's get blackout drunk

february 23 2022
i think i keep facebook around just to lurk your profile. they've made it mostly private now, but i can still view your profile photos. analyze the final few, leading up to the day. and the four comments after. was that all you were worth? four broken heart emojis?
feeling: empty

february 21 2022
always with one headphone out. so i can hear the creaks in the floorboards. that i won't be caught by surprise when they find me _existing_.

and the hypervigilance is exhausting. and i know i'm regressing. and there's no reason to act this way anymore.

but here i am.

it's getting harder to write when everyday is the same. when there's nothing left to look forward to. when your last human online conversation was nearly two months ago.

i don't know what i'm working towards, other than him. but now i wonder if he'd be better off without me. no one needs this type of disappointment in their life.

february 15 2022
i'm not doing well. i'm starting to realize how broken i am, and that there will never be any release from this. the reward i get, after all i've been through, is to feel _empty_ all of the time.

i don't get to magically be a normal person now that it's over. with love. and joy.

i think that would require me to feel it once in my childhood. but they broke me - from the day i came home from the hospital. i never got a chance to grow into being my own person. all i am is a fucking trauma response.

my flashbacks are increasing. weekly now. and i don't know how much more i can take. i'm tired of putting these pieces together. i'm tired of realizing how everyone failed that little girl.

i need a break from the stress.

january 30 2022
10pm, drunk on bourbon, watching trash tv. finally in my comfort zone.

i feel like i should delete the last post. i always told myself i would never say anything bad about him. the truth is that he has been my rock. the most caring and supportive person i've ever met. he's obviously going through something. not working, phone has been off all month, escaping into video games. but he won't tell me anything; he never does.

i guess i just get frustrated because i don't get to do that. i have no one taking care of me, the bills, or the pets. i don't just get to turn off everything and disassociate. i actually plan my sad moments. i'll clean the house, prep dinner, play with the dogs and cats, and then and only then, will i allow myself an hour or two to cry. and i never miss work. how can i? i'm the responsible one.

i feel like i never get a chance to just _be_.

january 30 2022
i'm not sure if this is a c-ptsd thing, but i want to erase myself from the internet every so often.

and this past week i've had this sense of dread about this site, like it needs to go. like it's already been found out. and i don't know. i've been toying with the idea of a rename or making my index file blank. yeah - i'm going to make my index file blank just a for a bit.

like, i know he saw my screen last week. "behavior's journal" in the title bar was pretty obvious. the code editor with a blantant journal entry was even more obvious. but did he even bother to investigate later? does he even care?

i was having a terrible flashback that day, and was trying to work though it. usually he's comforting, and helpful. but that day he wanted nothing to do with me. and i get it, he's not my therapist. but as my husband shouldn't he want to know the jist of what i'm going through? instead it was "i have work tomorrow, i can't deal with this." he doesn't even contribute to our household finances. and from what i can tell he didn't even work last week, and hasn't worked for the past two months.

is this what i've gotten myself into? another relationship where i cook, and clean, and pay the bills, save for retirement, save for a home, do absolutely everything for a man who can't even take five minutes to listen to the few words i have to say and give me hug?

i fantasize about being alone again... and i don't know.

he just came up and told me to have dinner alone because his video game has made him too upset to be around me. what the fuck is this? how have i ended up with this life?

january 24 2022
may 5, 2013. he tried to kill me that day. and i hate saying that. it's like everyone expects you to be dramatic and it wasn't that bad. but with a hand and knee on your neck. and the other hand suffocating you. and your body going limp. and your mind going clear. and the rage in his eyes. i don't think there's any other way to interpret it.

i think about it constantly. eight years later and i still can't fall asleep without replaying it at least once.

but i guess i'm having another flashback, because although i know every movement, every word, every detail... the emotions have been missing. until now.

and i like to think of it in three parts.

the morning. it's the one i replay. being waterboarded. strangled. beaten blue. stripped and thrown outside. everything i own, broken. it's the easy one for me. something my life had prepared me for. there was still some hope that someone would come to my rescue, i guess.

the afternoon. no one would help. not my best friend. not my mother. not my boss. i was too scared to go to the police. the gaslighting, he did it so well. i honestly thought i was the problem. that i was crazy. but he had my pets, so i had to go back. they're the closest things i'll ever have to children, and i couldn't protect them. i still can't think about this part. it's too hard. i hope those emotions stay locked away forever.

and the evening. this is the flashback i'm having. trapped. unable to escape. unable to hide. unable to call for help. and my back, the footboard of the bed digging into it. and i don't know what happened. did a neighbour call the cops? he was taken outside and handcuffed. and what felt like hours of men examining me and taking photos of my body. and then he was in jail.

and i was alone. and it was over, mostly. the rush to find somewhere new to live. where he couldn't find me.

living with the disappointment of those i trusted.

listening to: decks dark

january 21 2022
hurry up. you're drunk again. and this won't last long. get it out before he comes upstairs.
i say it like it's a bad thing, but i like it when he checks up on me.

i think it's bottle 2 or 3. i have work tomorrow. 6am. but this will be a waste if i don't get to feel something.

i don't know if there's anything good to feel. the weather has been cold and windy, like an early autumn. immediately my mind goes to you. i remember driving to your house. fiona apple blaring in my shitty green car. i finally broke up with him. i was all yours.

and you were mine.

but why was she there?

i still have photos of us three. me awkwardly off to the side.

that was our last chance. you came back, after each marriage, but i'm not that kind of girl.

part of me still hates you for it.

listening to: portishead

january 15 2022
drunk and idolizing the past. who i was, the people around me. they were tough times, but i enjoyed every moment of it. discovering who i was, making mistake after mistake. i wish i was still her. carefree and alive.

such a large part of me has been lost over the years. caring for others. but never taking care of myself. and i know this, but i still fail. i feel guilty for taking a minute for myself.
even this site - i feel this immense guilt and shame for having it.

i just... don't like who i am anymore. i want to feel happy for once. and i don't know who to blame, or if there's anyone to blame at all. i look back at the past, alone in my tiny apartment, music blaring, and always dancing, and i think i was happy then.

but i wasn't. i cried myself to sleep every single night.

on the drive home from work i had to keep myself from speeding off the edge of those high texas overpasses.

i rarely listen to music anymore. unless i'm drunk. even then, _now_, it feels forced. i can't enjoy it.

i don't know what the point of this is. there's no story to tell. there's tears swelling behind my eyes but they're just taunting me with the bruising pain instead of doing anything useful.

it's late. i need to go to bed and pretend like everything's fine.

january 04 2022
i got blackout drunk on new years eve. woke up after having passed out on my office floor.

apparently i messaged my ex best friend and told him i missed him. he said the same. i'll be honest, i couldn't bear to read the rest of the conversation. i quickly scrolled through and it was so fucking cringy and embarrassing. so, i've been conveniently 'invisible' and avoiding the computer for the past few days.

this. this is why i need to stop drinking.

i know this is a relationship i shouldn't rekindle. but how do you ghost someone a second time? and i never wanted to in the first place. he's a drug to me. i want it, but i know it's bad for me, and i shouldn't have it.


listening to: down in the new up

december 30 2021
here's a silly one i've been trying to remember.

it was eighth grade, after i'd been expelled. i've been at this new school for maybe 2-3 months and the year was wrapping up. i mean, it was terrible. i had my clothes stolen from my locker and hidden in trash cans throughout campus. nearly everyone threw food and trash at me when i walked by. like, i was the lowest of the low and i still don't understand why. and to top it off, all of my old friends were forbidden to talk to me. it was incredibly lonely for 13-ish year old.

anyway, there was this boy in my science class. he was so popular -- on the football team. but he made an effort to talk to me and get to know me in class. he became my only friend, and i was so grateful. every day, i looked forward to those 45 minutes where i wasn't such an outcast.

so, when he asked me to go to the end of year dance i thought he meant it. i remember even my mom was excited for me. we bought a gorgeous black velvet dress. we dyed my hair purple. okay, maybe that wasn't in style when britney spears ruled the world, but i thought i cleaned up nicely.

i get to the dance and i see him with the two most popular girls in school. naturally, i hesitate. but i push through. he did want to come to the dance with me, after all. and as i'm walking towards him the two other girls block my path.

laughing - "oh my god, did you really think he wanted to go to the dance with you?!?"

and i don't really remember much more than that. i ran out, to the parking lot where the parents drop off their kids. but my mom was no longer there. i remember waiting an hour or two for her to get home and notice my voicemail.

feeling: fuck i drank too much again

december 29 2021
my social media use finally worked out. an old friend from highschool added me on linkedin. not just anyone, but my best friend for so many many years. so, i accepted. and waited... and waited...

i guess i was waiting for a message.

so, i smoked a lot of weed, and messaged him. friendly, open, chill.

nine words back. nothing worth replying to.

then i finally looked at his company & position and realized i'm someone he could use to make a buck.

no one wants to be your friend at this age. they just want to use you.

listening to: sunburn - muse

december 25 2021
i had already attempted once... twice... and failed. but not to say it's something to take lightly. god, 15-20 hours in the most unimaginable pain. unable to speak, to scream, to move. then finally being able to roll into the common area and make what i can only describe as animal noises in an attempt to wake someone else up. and the hospital where they ignored it all. actively ignored the amount of drugs in my system. the wounds on my body, everything.

and then life went on.

i broke up with you. i didn't want to, but i knew it wasn't healthy. we were too immature. it was so toxic. we didn't know how to communicate.

and i heard from friends about how bad you were doing. and i was actually the same, but i hid it well. but that guilt killed me. i felt like i had already lived my life.

so, that august night, i'm unable to sleep. listening to this album, and it felt right. it was no longer desperation or sadness; just peace.

... and i don't know how, but i somehow i made it through. and i never really thought of it again, until now.

listening to: ágætis byrjun

december 22 2021
growing up i lived in an empty house. white walls, white floors. no furniture, no art. just big empty rooms.

sometimes, if we were celebrating, they'd bring out the beach chairs for seating.

but we always had a christmas tree, for some fucked up reason. and it was beautifully decorated - my mother and i made sure of that. i think it was our way of having something nice, even for just a few weeks.

he always destroyed everything we had. every piece of furniture. every piece of art. and god, the walls. my childhood home was gutted because there was nothing left. he punched the walls until you could jump outside. he broke every window.

and my poor pets... that's a story no one wants to hear. but it's something i feel guilty about to this day.

he doesn't feel guilt, so i take it all on.

but here i am, seven years into my summertime christmas, and i'm thinking to myself that it doesn't feel right. and i'm trying to remember what this time of year supposed to feel like...

and i don't know. i don't think there is a single good memory. every. single. day. he tormented us.

and i think i'm finally too drunk to finish this thought. but i need to stop chasing nostalgia. there's nothing there. i never experienced anything good, there's no use in looking back. my best feelings are all from being alone in front of my computer. and i need to stop idolizing that.

feeling: exhausted

december 20 2021
when i lived alone i always had music playing. loud. i danced while doing chores, i danced in my downtime. my tiny apartment was so full of life, and i felt alive and free.

and now i just live my life in silence. i'm so deeply ashamed of who i am, the things i like. i watch tv at the lowest volume, and get so incredibly uncomfortable if any loud music comes on. i find it easiest to just go outside and watch the clouds pass by. wait for the day to pass by. and i even get embarrassed about enjoying that.

what has happened to me?

i keep telling myself that this is rock bottom, but it always gets worse. i no longer see a way out at this point. i'm no longer stumbling along. maybe i am depressed.

listening to: how to disappear completely

december 13 2021
i don't do trigger warnings, but fuck, i'm blurring this so i don't ever have to see it again.

i think i unlocked that memory. well, parts of it. the first one, the one that started me down this path.

i read a random comment from someone regarding their experience with csa. about all the symptoms she showed as a young girl, and yeah, it triggered me hard. i spent the next 48 hours having an emotional flashback. hardly any memories came through, though.

i must have been three, maybe four. there was our neighbour across the street, brandon. he was younger than my parents, but still an adult. he took a special interest in me. in later years my mother would always joke that he was my first boyfriend.

but i very clearly remember that he always found a reason to be alone with me. escorting me to the restroom, putting me down for bed, etc.

and for my entire life there's been this uncomfortable feeling i can't shake -- like my waist/hips are being grabbed so tightly. like, i can't handle my clothes resting there, anyone touching there. i have a similar spot on my back where i was beaten repeatedly, but i never thought they were the same thing. but with this flashback came this feeling, intensely.

but... i can't really remember much more than that and i hate it. i keep questioning myself. did this really happen? or is my mind just trying to complete the story?

i guess there's something truthful there, though. why else would i have a flashback?

december 7 2021
it's been two months since i last talked to my friends. and by last talked, i mean... i got left on read two months ago. i don't really know what a true friend is. i feel like we always have something special because we can drift apart for years, then pick back up like nothing happened. there's always that understanding and respect. but i'm finally starting to realize how fucked that is.

all of my friends (past & present) have gotten married. all of them. how many weddings have i been invited to? zero.

i think that's telling. that i'm just an afterthought.

the last one was ballsy enough to claim they were only having family attend. asked if i would do their makeup and hair. i obliged, like the fucking pushover i am. and later i saw the facebook photos of our entire friend group at the wedding.

i think that stung because i was so obviously being used. but i honestly thought she and her husband were my closest friends. we spent every single day together. they had a key to my apartment. i'd come home, and they'd be waiting in my place with dinner. like, it was some f·r·i·e·n·d·s level shit. i felt special. and they were there when everyone else abandoned me. i literally had a milestone birthday / moving out of the country party which absolutely no one showed up to. they held me while i cried. and not to make this sound one-sided, but i always went above and beyond for them. i mean, my trauma response is to fawn.

but maybe that's my problem. i do too much. i care too much. i soak in any form on kindness. and they're probably just being nice and trying to get rid of me.

and this is only coming about because i still have a facebook account. it's just a name and photo, completely unused, something for lurkers and coworkers to find. but i've been tagged three times this week. with photos a decade old. saying how much they miss me. & it just depresses me how fake it all is. 6 years. it's been 6 years since they've said anything to me. probably 4 or 5 years since they last ignored my attempts at contact.

but now they're using my photo to rake in the 'likes'. that they miss their "friend" that moved abroad 6 years ago.

it feels like i've never experienced a real friendship in my entire life.

december 6 2021
god, the fine line of being drunk enough to write something here, and to sober up enough to be a good wife and make dinner later.

i don't know why i do it. i pay all the bills. save for our retirement. do all the cleaning. cooking. care for the pets. it's all on me, but i don't know any other way. i _can't_ let him help. and sometimes i want to scream so fucking loud because i need help. why is this all on me?

but... i can't be less than perfect. and i hate that part of me.

drink it away. drink all the feelings away.

november 29 2021
i'm better today. i woke up early, cleaned the house, spent time with all the animals. and now i'm alone. and safe. with a bottle of red. everything's just a blur again, and i couldn't be more thankful. i feel horribly lonely, but there's still comfort in that. i'm back to what i know.

it's hard to see this as healing.

november 28 2021
the scenes had been flashing through my mind occasionally during the day. i knew what they were. i didn't want to believe them. i still don't want to believe them. but then the scene of my mom screaming at him. that she's divorcing him. how could he do that to his daughter.

holy fuck. the world just fell apart around me. and it's still falling. and my body is not my own. my limbs work, but i can't feel any of it. it's hard to breathe. i can't stop shaking.

i am so sick from this. father...
what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

i don't want to do this anymore.

what else is my mind hiding from me? how many more flashbacks do i need to endure?

this isn't fair.

november 27 2021
i remember the first time i ever hugged my mom. i was 17 and going through my first heartbreak. she offered the gesture and i took it. i think she was happy i was in pain.

that night my father took me to see the fellowship of the ring. he tried to give me some fatherly advice for the first time in my life. it failed horribly, but i appreciated the gesture.

later, i hugged him for the first time at the age of 24. in the airport, visiting for the holidays.

sometimes we all text 'love you' on skype. i don't feel the love, but i want to keep the peace.

november 21 2021
just a quick thought. something a bit brighter. i was wondering why all of my demons have come back to haunt me now. at this age. on this island. where i should be thriving. and it occurred to me that it's because, for the first time in my life, i'm safe. i'm no longer living in fear, in a constant battle to protect myself. i finally have the freedom and capacity to heal.

maybe there's a way out.

feeling: anxious

november 18 2021
a moment alone. a drink in hand. i know i shouldn't, but these moments have become so rare. i need to decompress. i want the feelings to come. i want to feel the loneliness. i want the hollowness where my heart should be. the abandonment. i just want to be me for a moment.

it's wrong, i know. other's desperately try to rid themselves of this ailment, but i can't get enough. i don't know any other way of being.

i've been working through another past memory lately. does it deserve the entire story being shared? maybe someday. it's funny how something so big? traumatic? life-changing? i-can't-find-the-right-word-for-a-murder-attempt could leave me so emotionless. i no longer have flashbacks. i'm never triggered. it just feels like a dream. although, i actually remember every detail now. i guess i just see it as a symptom of everything else in my life. if i wasn't such a fawn. if i didn't try to please every person that came into my life. if i could stand up for myself. if i could cut the toxic people out immediately. maybe. then maybe this never would have happened.

oh. ohh. you see what i did there? i fucking blamed it on myself. lol. ~victim blaming cunt~

well... technically, i blamed it on my parents and the monster they housed. but, still...


another drink, please...

listening to: maria taylor

november 11 2021
i've been trying to be good. trying to be a better me. i drink less. i sleep well. i wake up with a clear mind and the energy to do something.

by 9am i'm exhausted with myself and the waiting begins. waiting for lunch. waiting for the 3pm coffee break. waiting to make dinner. waiting for sleep. pacing pacing pacing. is this all there is? is this the life i've been missing out on? i still did this shit blackout drunk, so what does sobriety do to make it so much better?

the people around me those that remain on social media all seem to be finally finding themselves. their meaning in life. their happiness. and i'm afraid that's never going to be me. it's not as simple as just putting the bottle down. or forgiving one person. the things i was put through... i don't see how i could ever stop being tormented by it.

i shut it out for so long. and i was strong. and a survivor. and it still found its way into the shell i made and cracked it entirely.

i just... don't know how to be happy. how to be okay.

i love my sadness. it's where i'm comfortable and safe.

feeling: oops i'm tipsy again

november 02 2021
i think i need to admit defeat. been drinking since 2pm, and there's nothing here. i'm coherent. feelings are stable. i'm just - fine -

i don't want to be fine. i don't want to be numb. i want to feel. i want to be sad. i want to be disappointed. i want to be ashamed of myself. it's the only time i really feel alive.

i'm just faking it otherwise.

another drink, i guess.

listening to: the lament of pretty baby

october 25 2021
it's terrifying. there's about 5 hours i can't account for last night.

i spent the entire night in a panic. unable to sleep. heart trying to break free of my chest. but i refused to do anything that might calm my nerves. i didn't check my internet history, my social media, or messages. i just laid in the dark letting the anxiety take hold of me.

blacking out is, unfortunately, common. that's not the terrifying part.

i passed out on the office floor. good for me, i always put myself to bed when i've had too much.

but he found me, and i don't know what was up on the computer screen. did he see this site? did he catch my username? did he read it all?

it's not like these are secrets i wouldn't share with him. but these are things he absolutely does not want to know.

these are things that are better left unsaid... to him. but i still need to get them into the universe. to analyze the details, the feelings, it's therapeutic to me.

i don't want him to worry. i don't want him to realize how washed up and used i am. in a way he knows. but he doesn't deserve to know the details.

fuck. just fuck.

feeling: is there a word for drunk & hungover?

october 24 2021
i've been waiting for a dream about you. why haven't you shown up?

whenever i need you most you appear. alive and well. with that warmth and love i'm always craving. i'm selfish. i just want to feel close to you again. to have that other half by my side.

i went down the rabbit hole of the wayback machine a few days ago. livejournal was littered with pictures of you. for a moment it felt like you're still here. it's not fair.

i feel so guilty for not reaching out. it had been years since we've spoken. but finding your facebook... i knew instantly something was wrong. i should have reached out. i wish i had. i told myself the next time i can drink enough to not feel embarrassed i would...

... but it was too late.

i just hope you found your peace.

october 24 2021
grab a bottle of wine and a glass.
"it's that type of day, is it?"

really, it's not. i'm not trying to suppress anything. i'm not having trouble dealing. i'm just so tired of this numbness. the solitude of the internet. the waiting for life to change.

feeling: ready to blackout

october 17 2021
nothing like seeing one of my rapist front and center on linkedin.

successful and making the most out of life.

it's not fair. it's not fair. it's not fair.

let's look back on this as logically and unemotional as possible.

i was running behind. still doing my hair and makeup when you showed up.

"damn, dee, you're already drunk!"

no, no i wasn't. i hadn't had anything. i didn't have time to.

ok, i'm ready, let's go. but no, you noticed the melting vodka on ice on the counter. you urged me to chug it. what you didn't know was that i always mixed vodka 50/50 with water.
i drank it and felt nothing.

in the car i ask about the others we're supposed to pick up. oh, they're running late. they'll meet us at the club.
you mention how drunk i am, then you hand me your phone, i reply to a few texts. it all seemed so normal - minus the whole me being drunk part.

we get to drais. a party rock wednesday. i loved those nights with LMFAO. i never had any interest in picking up guys. i just wanted to dance.

so, we get inside and your friends still aren't there. we go to the bar and i order a grey goose pear on ice. something i've never been able to drink since. you tell me to go sit in the booth in the back of the room. our friends are expecting to find us there. you'll bring our drinks.

the next thing i know is that you're telling me we're getting kicked out of the club. i look down at my nearly full drink. i stumble. the bouncers are escorting us out.

we get in your car and you tell me i had too much and i shouldn't pregame so much next time.

i'm confused.

i wake up and we're on the freeway, about 30 minutes from my house. you yawn. you exaggerate your yawn. oh, you're so tired you can't finish driving? so convenient there's parking lots on the side of the freeway. you pull into one.

you mention once again, how drunk i am. how tired you are.

i pull out my phone and start checking facebook. you didn't expect me to be awake.

"you need water or you're going to be so hungover in the morning"

conveniently, you have bottles of water in your trunk. you take your time getting me one.

the next memory i have. it's the morning. and you're having, what i assume, is another go at me.

do i need to mention that i would never? not in a million years?

it wasn't my first, nor my last time being roofied. it makes you so sick. i called out of work. it was a thursday.

on friday i get to work. the office is in an uproar. you quit. you, the ceo's best friend. the lead engineer. you quit without another job lined up.

i was relieved, i didn't know how i would handle it all.

i never told anyone.

you moved across the country. got married. had children. you're successful. you're rich. everyone still loves you.

and i'm forever picking up these pieces of me.

listening to: moving units

october 16 2021
a week of [almost] sobriety. and a week of sleep. my stress has only gotten worse. i honestly didn't think this would be my life at this age. isn't it supposed to get better at some point? isn't some achievement supposed to bring me joy? i'm never enough. i'm never good enough. i'm always failing and fucking up somehow.

i work so hard for nothing.

that old friend that reached out? disappeared just as quickly. i sent the longest, most heartfelt message a week ago, and nothing. she's been on daily, so it's not like she didn't see it. i guess this is what we do. us with no friends, i mean. obsess and check and check and check. i tried. it was hard for me to open up after all this time. i tried.

and now we're here. drinking alone in front of the computer. something we've always done. i've hit my limit, but with the upmost respect for myself, i will have one more. why is this the only thing that brings me joy? that makes me feel okay?

listening to: pinback

october 10 2021
i still remember the first time listening to this song. a lonely december night.

locked in my childhood bedroom. plunging into the depths of my klonopin addiction.

browsing images of rain bokeh on deviantart.

another one, and another.

god, it felt so good.

all the emotions. everything was so saturated.

and my mind just turned off.

and my friend from soulseek. andrew, was it? you had schizophrenia and eventually disappeared. i'll always cherish those nights keeping each other company.

it was shortly after that i went too far with it all.

i actually think this song was playing then, too.

but i would fucking kill to experience it all again.

i've never been the same. was it the addiction? the depression it caused? or the withdrawal? my mind has always felt broken since.

but i am such a whore for feeling.

and i miss it.

listening to: we laugh indoors

october 10 2021

finally. i'm alone and having a few drinks. i desperately need to reset myself.

work is taking over my life. i never wanted to have a real career. just do something i'm good at, make money, and sign off at the end of the day. now, i feel like i'm being forced to climb the corporate ladder and engage in the office politics. and i honestly can't handle it. i just don't understand why all these young people need to be so cutthroat in a fucking startup company. we're all on the same team. we can see the ceiling. why are you doing this?

my oldest friend reached out. it's been over a year since we've spoken. i'm glad we can just pick up like it was yesterday. i feel so guilty about not speaking to her sooner. i know i was a bad friend. i'd like to apologize, but at the same time i feel like it's almost too personal. like, sorry i haven't been around, but i've been reliving all the sexual, physical, and emotional abuse i received in the first 30+ years of my life that i just so conveniently had forgotten about. like, how the fuck do you go about saying that to someone? you don't, and you continue looking like a bad friend.

but the thing is that i know she'd understand. she was the very first person to say, "holy shit you were raped." but it wasn't until a year ago that i finally got to fully remember that moment and realize what happened.

i feel so fucking betrayed by my mind.

it's been a long time. she has her own issues. she doesn't need to worry about mine.

i'm too drunk for anything more.

october 04 2021
what was the year? 1998? 1999? either way, i had these bright blue pajama pants. aliens in ufo's. the year "2000" strewn across. god, i loved them. i wore them for nearly the next ten years.

but, that year was good for me. i quit figure skating for the first time. and i actually made friends. all 7 of us girls in this elementary school were close. and like, 3-4 guys as well. we'd have sleepovers, the promise of going to highschool together, it was good.

i remember one girl's parents took us to see a live showing of the rocky horror picture show. i dressed up in my best pleather, had the time of my life. i couldn't believe it. i made it. i'm normal. i have friends.

the next week i'm in class with everyone else. our principal comes charging down the stairs. without saying a word, she grabs me by the ear and drags me upstairs. literally drags me by the ear. once in her office i'm just confused and in shock.

"you know exactly what you did."

i really had no idea.

she pulled out fucking screenshots of my geocities website.

"this is exactly what you did wrong"

i was so fucking confused. i had a website about me, and the music i like. with lyrics. because that's what you did in geocities in the 90's. you posted lyrics of songs that weren't in the cd/tape sleeve.

i don't remember the next quotes, and i'm not one to fake it. something about columbine was said. creeps on the internet finding us. because i posted a group photo of me and my friends.

just a random photo of us girls that i scanned into the computer.

i was expelled right then and there. maybe three months to my 8th grade graduation.

as it turns out, one of the girls i thought i was friends with got caught being inappororiate with men in yahoo chat. her parents went though her computer and saw my website. she said i taught her.

i never fit in there. from the beginning. i'm not religious, my family never was, and my brother is mentally ill. it was easy to put the blame on me.

and it was.

and that was it. no one ever talked to me again. their parents forbid it.

and things didn't get better for me after that. the public school system here was overcrowded, and i was placed in 'special' classes because there was no room anywhere else.
despite being in honors in a private school.

i was bullied heavily.

it carried onto highchool.

no wonder i tested out at 15 and still feel like a reject to this day.

september 30 2021
made it through the annual skype call.

minimal alcohol. no tears. but it gets harder putting on that smile every year.

he showed up for a brief moment. the dogs were barking, face out of frame. i'm thankful for those distractions.

"when are you moving back to america?"
they actually seemed surprised.

enough of this, i'm going to drink until i black the fuck out.

september 29 2021
i used to be a gold medal figure skater. and later, a ballerina. and i used to like telling the sob story that ripped those away from me.

thinking about it now, i liked having a story that others could relate to about some of my trauma. something they could understand. a death, an illness, an unhappy accident.

drunk&honest now. i'm so glad it happened. as much as i miss it, i would be miserable in the spotlight.

my entire life i've had a group of people criticizing my looks. my body. how i spend my free time.

i never even had a friend until i was about 12. i had a broken leg to thank for that.

i can't imagine living like that for any longer than i did. so, i think my sob story is really a happy accident.

is this finally letting go? or just a cheap box of wine?

feeling: oh i found all the wine

september 28 2021
sometimes i search for your name online. hoping to get a glimpse into your life now. it feels wrong, i shouldn't be lurking around after all of these years.

but don't worry, i find nothing. you've erased yourself, too.

write a few sentences and all of those emotions are crashing into me. fuck.

and i still miss you. perhaps i shouldn't after how you blew everything up.

but it's rare when i find a heart like mine.

feeling: where's my wine?

september 26 2021
i woke up this morning just thinking about that first drink today. i don't know what it is. i don't know why i've been so extra lately.

i am tired. i haven't had a full night of sleep in weeks. i need to stop.

listening to: trentemoller

september 24 2021
the tears are not forming today. how many drinks until i feel better?

why must i always be improving myself? why isn't - good - enough? i'm fine right where i am. i can handle it. i'm happy here. i don't want anything more.

but they're never satisfied. and they just keep  pushing and pushing and pushing.

i can't relax. i don't know how anymore. this stress never fucking leaves.

what's the point of working so hard for this life when you can't enjoy a moment of it?

i just want to disappear.

listening to: radiohead

september 23 2021
it's the first day of spring.

the seasons here always confuse me. the sun hits different. or is it the same?

the sun has that same orange glow that feels like autumn. i can't tell my brain any different.

i'm a bit sad that i'll never get to experience a californian autumn again. wildfires on the side of the highway. smell of smoke filling the air.

and pumpkins and halloween. because that isn't a thing here.

maybe i'll go back someday.

drinking: white russian

september 22 2021
i need to start writing these when i can't sleep at night. the words come freely. my thoughts aren't fragmented. it's all so clear.

but here i am - 3pm - drunk on vodka - waiting for the day to end. thoughts and feelings i want to express but the words just aren't right.

my birthday's next week, and usually i'd have overwhelming _sadness_ isthistherightword? leading up to the day. but i'm feeling okay this year. you can't be disappointed that no one showed up to your party if you don't have a party or friends.

wish i would have known that sooner, but it's been a tough year of introspection.

thought change. okay, so i was abused pretty badly as a child. and naturally i found myself in abusive relationship after abusive relationship as an adult. and that's fine. and one thing that never really made sense to me was that i knew the abuse fucked me up, but i could never tell you why. the physical harm - like so what, it happened and it's over. big deal.

but it was this past year, my insomnia reached new heights and i forced myself to lie in bed and relive every experience scene by scene. and you know what occurred to me? it never was the abuse. it sucked, but i knew that person was bad and i expected nothing more from them. what fucked me up was the neglect from the people that should have protected me. i was never rescued. i was never comforted. i was never loved.

and i remember - it was one of the worst beatings ever. my dad locked away in his office. my mom, down the hallway. and i'm screaming and begging for help. and i finally see my mom coming down the hall to us and i just think _finally_

...and she closes the door in front of her. goes back to watching tv. i was a child, and she gave me away to this fucking monster.

and it's not just sadness or depression that i live with. i've been through a major depression, and it's completely different than my daily life. this is abandonment that i feel constantly. and i can never seem to fucking shake it. it's like your heart is forever dropping and hopeless.

and that. that's what i usually feel on my birthday. yeah.

at least i know what it is now.

listening to: liars

september 20 2021
you ever have those life-long friends that you just don't recognize anymore? i mean, everyone changes. sometimes for the better. and that's fine. but someone that was once on the same wavelength as me is suddenly so negatively positive. sadness isn't tolerated. those emotions must be remedied immediately. everything happens for a reason. and the most mind blowing one yet: spirituality.

like who the fuck are you? i missing something here?

i can't help but think she's in the midst of a breakdown.

and i'm just going to be selfish and watch from the sidelines. bitter, perhaps. never once gave me a helping hand. fuck, it's been over 6 years since she's asked how i'm doing.

life-long friend, maybe not.

listening to: SBTRKT

september 17 2021
what would 16 year old me think of life now? i did it, i got away. married the love of my life. escaped everyone who ever hurt me. i'm living my dream. a far off country, the ocean, all the free time in the world.

so why am i so unhappy?

i feel like i just can't progress. i can't shake the abandonment from when i was a child. it follows me everywhere.

it's not fair. i used to think i was strong. independent. but i'm far from it. terrified to make a move. terrified to make a sound.

listening to: unwound

september 15 2021
another day, another beer in hand. my face flushes with every sip i take. i should quit, but how else would i fill my time?

i'm overthinking this. no one will read this. no one will care. i have spent so many years erasing myself from the internet. ghosting my friends. being completely silent. fuck, i even moved across the world to get away from it all. i'm terrified someone might get to know me. someone might recognize me.

and yet, i long for a friend. or just some type of human interaction. fucking pathetic.

let's move onto something stronger...

september 14 2021
twenty years and here we are again. my old site, my old feelings. nothing's changed.