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writing dump

[analoglove]

hi I'm ash, I'm 25, and this is my writing blog where I post poetry, journals, vent posts, and maybe stories. though most of my posts are about life and love and general musings this blog also includes themes of self harm, abuse, sexual abuse, death, depression, dissociation, and derealization.

if my writing brings you some kind of fuzzy feeling you could buy me a coffee <3

[analoglove]

so much of my youth is being wasted because my body needs medication that hasnt been invented yet. i need cures they haven’t thought of.

[analoglove]

my dad was in the hospital for cancer treatment and i was there visiting him. he started getting this excruciating pain in his stomach, it was the most pain i had ever seen him in. during it, he apologized to me, and and then again afterwards. “sorry you had to see me like that.”

[analoglove]

i wasn’t able to swallow pills without applesauce or pudding until i was like 22.

my mom became addicted to vicodin when i was a kid and i learned to hate pills even besides my aversion to swallowing them. i was afraid of taking too much tylenol. afraid of pain medication.

one time when i was 16 i had a really bad infected tooth and i had to wait weeks to get into a dentist. the pain was so bad my dad gave me half of one his vicodin. i ended up throwing it up, because i was basically overdosing.

when i was 18 i was given hydrocodone after a surgery. when i took it i felt like i was dying, like i was out of my body and i was dying and no one around me knew. i only took it twice because i needed to, then never touched it again.

after that surgery i was given morphine because they wouldn’t let me leave the hospital until my pain was manageable. i understood then why people abused substances.

at 21 i started snorting adderall.

after becoming chronically ill at 22 i started to understand why people use heroin.

for my ocd and ptsd i was given an anxiety medication that’s hard but not impossible to abuse. since i’m so sensitive to medication, abusing it is a line between being high and being sick. i found that line.

eventually the line kept moving and now there isn’t one, i’m either at baseline or sick, so i started looking for new ways. i started looking online for where to get pills.

i fiend for them at my lowest, when i just want to die and i need to feel something other than everything.

“i just want whatever pill won’t make me feel like this”

it feels less like fun now, and more like i am part of a cycle. this was all by design. “i’m just like my mom”, because we’re of the same class, the same lineage, we carry the same ailments.

the difference is my mom had an addiction, i just want to escape.

[analoglove]

i think our souls are married

[buttonbrighte]

this is where i post from

[analoglove]

when i was a kid i thought i’d grow up and live in a big house, one with old wood and charm but updated, and i’d have huge dollhouses to play with, and cats and dogs, and all my friends would come over

[analoglove]

im on a new diet/exercise routine to lose weight and build muscle but i literally don't think my body can sustain being less than 140 pounds, I haven't been that weight since I was 15 and I can't even imagine it. like it sounds like i would wither away. im built like a peasant who needs to birth children and withstand harsh winters.

[analoglove]

wrapped around you is the only place that feels like home

and i’ve been so lonely

[analoglove]

its january, and my roommates halloween pumpkins still sit out on our balcony. their carved expressions sunken in, and insides filled with mold. i look outside our balcony door at the blue hue that covers the neighborhood, painted by dusk. i don't stand for long because it's -7 outside today and the wind hits like needles, flittering past the cracks in the balcony door, making it too cold to stand. a sheet of snow covers the city. any slush melted by the sun is now ice, hardened over night. stores have closed early and my plans cancelled. i curse myself for being inside. maybe that's just what january is, watching the days fly by while you sit inside, trying to adjust to the weather. i think "maybe if i was less sick", "maybe if i had a car", "maybe if i had more money." they're all excuses, you can only work with what you have. what i have is a yearning for more than this.

[analoglove]

today i saw someone that looked just like you and my breath stopped

[analoglove]

dear past me: becoming close with others is a trap, just be lonely.

[analoglove]

am i even meant to be alive if i have to be on this many pills to force it? maybe my soul is trying to tell me something, maybe its time to let myself rest

[analoglove]

if im such a lover why do i still hate myself?

[analoglove]

i used to think getting older meant getting closer to happiness, or completeness, and now it feels like i’m just getting farther, like there was a train i was supposed to get on and i missed it, it’s already 3 miles in the other direction

[analoglove]

i remember we used to stand in the kitchen and just stare at the cat. we ate fruit slowly. we cooked pancakes. we went on walks in the dark. i miss our world. i wish i could text you whenever i wanted, but i think you see me as an enemy now.

[analoglove]

what does it mean that more than one man in my life has told me i remind them of a feral animal