Going from a chronic people pleaser to being unapologetically authentic will inevitably cause strife in weak relationships.
Brooke S.
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
One Nice Bug Per Day

if i look back, i am lost
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

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Product Placement
ojovivo
trying on a metaphor
dirt enthusiast
noise dept.
YOU ARE THE REASON

Andulka

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AnasAbdin

oozey mess
almost home

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@darkeningdepression
Going from a chronic people pleaser to being unapologetically authentic will inevitably cause strife in weak relationships.
Brooke S.
I've never been a good person, I was just an expert people pleaser.
The Story About How I Found Out My Biological Dad Smoked Weed.
Backstory: My mom and dad were separated and lived in separate houses. On the weekends, my little brother and I would have visitations with him. That ended when he passed away. I was seven years old when he passed. When I was fifteen, my mother went outside and yelled, “Damn, it smells like weed out here!” Talking about the neighbors burning leaves. Curious, because I heard kids talking about it at school, I went outside and took a big whiff. Immediately I recognized the smell. I asked my mom if dad used to smoke weed. Her eyes opened really wide and she said yes in a hesitant tone. She looked at me confused so I continued by saying this is what dad smelt like. She was shocked because I haven’t smelt that since I was seven years old.
Do you really care or are you just nosy?
Brooke S.
I’m a Hermit & For Good Reason
Long ago, I accepted the fact that I wasn’t good friend. When people come into my life, I warn them about it. Really, I give them an out. But when I warned you, you disagreed. Even went as far as telling me it wasn’t true. Now you're mad at me. You called me selfish. I said, “I told you.”
- Brooke S.
While others appreciate music, talk-shows, and/or podcasts during their daily commutes, I prefer complete silence.
Brooke S.
Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.
Sylvia Plath (via perfectquote)
Childhood Trauma #5
When my step dad was mad at us, he’d go outside and beat the dogs with a makeshift whip he crafted from a garden hose. He’d always go straight to his truck and leave immediately following the beatings. I’d always take soapy rags outside and clean them up and hold them crying telling them they were good boys/girls. For the holidays, we had family over and animal abuse causally came up during conversation. He looked me dead-in-the-eyes when he told my family he didn’t understand why people mistreated animals. It was his way of telling me I’d be on the other end of the whip if I didn’t keep my mouth shut. I kept quite.
I'm stuck between doing what's best for myself and feeling guilty for doing what's best for myself.
Brooke S.
Childhood Trauma #4
One night, the house phone rang so I picked it up. It was my stepdad and he needed to speak with my mom. My mom was in her room with the door shut so I yelled, “Danny is on the phone and he needs to talk to you.” A few minutes later, my mom told me Danny wanted to tell me something. I put the phone to my ear and he said, “If you don’t call me dad, I will never speak to you again.” He continued, “If you try to talk to me, I will ignore you.” He pressed further, “When you hang up the phone with me you say, “Bye Dad.” I said bye dad when I hung up the phone.
Childhood Trauma #3
My abuser teased me any time I was face-to-face with him. When my feelings were hurt and it resulted in me tearing up, I was sent to my room for being a “baby.” Essentially, I was grounded for reacting to the abuse. After awhile, the boredom started making me insane. I tried anything to occupy my mind. One day I decided to make a list of common vehicle colors and as vehicles passed my house, I’d draw a tally mark beside the corresponding color. Throughout my childhood, most of the vehicles that passed my house were grey or silver.
When Someone Says They’re Trying To Cancel Eminem.
I'm not one to put my opinion out there because I see how people worship theirs and shun people they love because they disagree with each other. However, I'm not holding my tongue for this one. How are people going to have healthy outlets when they're at their lowest? How are they going to express themselves if you take everything away? Everyone has something that calms them down when they can't think straight. When anger, rage, depression, and anxiety are so consuming that rational thought no longer exists in the moment. Maybe it's just me but dark, mean, hateful, and violent things are an outlet for me. I know it is for many others as well. Whether that's music, movies, games, books, or poems. More sadistic, the better! You know why? Because it's a safe way I release dark thoughts and feelings. It's a way to get it out of my body. We all have a dark side. It's primal and if you take outlets away that help people cope, you're going to create a new kind of monster. You're going to create people that can't control their urges. And one day, they're going to snap. And you cry babies will be the ones to blame.
I'm not scared to admit I have a dark side. I have things floating around in my head that will sicken the person standing beside me. And if you tell yourself you don't, you're a fucking liar. I was abused growing up. Every single day I was belittled and so were my siblings. You know what I had as a release, Eminem. It took all that rage, anger, and hate and put it into words. Made it so I could manage it. When I was mad, I'd go outside with my cd player and scream it at the top of my lungs. This is how I released all that anger toward my abuser. I screamed it out through sadistic music. I wrote sadistic poems. You know what I didn't do, act on it in an unhealthy way. Even though most days I really wanted to, I stuck with sadistic art forms as a way to cope. I've been listening to Eminem since the 6th grade. I fear my path wouldn't be the same if I didn't have it as a way to release my dark urges. But if I offended you, good, 'cause I still don't give a fuck.
Childhood Trauma #2
“Quit doing dumb stuff,” he said to me almost daily. Now I secretly tip-toe through life in fear that I’m always doing “dumb stuff.”
I wonder if insane asylum ghosts would be friendly to me for understanding their former position.
Childhood Trauma #1
As a child, I loved the idea of gardening and landscaping. My mom bought me seeds (Sweet Williams) and I was so excited to see they had sprouted. My excitement was short lived when they were burned up the next day. I felt so guilty because I killed my plant babies. I think this could've been a valuable lesson if I had some encouragement to try again. Instead, I was laughed at for killing my plants and made to believe it was stupid I was upset about it.
You'll never hear me scream from the rooftops, but you'll see my misery hidden in everyday subtlety.
Brooke S.
I no longer fear death; it's the absence of fear that scares me the most.
- Brooke S.