That Other Girl.

We all need a little help sometimes. Someone to help us hear the music in the world.

[enslavedemotion-blog]

(As of 7 minutes before I started writing this) Yesterday was my nephews 11th birthday. I haven’t seen him or shared his birthday with him since he was 3. You’re probably wondering why. His mother was not getting the desired amount of money she wanted from his father (my brother) and saw fit that she stop him, and the rest of my family, from seeing him ever again. It is also an important fact that the reason my brother couldn’t afford her desired amount of cash per month is because he put all the money he had in the world into getting himself a flat and fully furnishing it so he could have my nephew at the weekends (instead of the pair of them having to share a sofa at my uncles). She threw in that she was also stopping him from seeing him because she didn’t like the location of said flat. Call me crazy and pardon my French but is that not a little fucked up, no? She was fully willing and happy to DEPRIVE my nephew of a loving and doting father for the sake of a few more quid! I also think it to be important to mention the fact that my brother was already paying her £120 per month (which was their agreed amount) before you start thinking to yourself “well, he has to pay for his child. Maybe he wasn’t”. Well, folks, he was. He was also practically starving himself so he could take him on fun days out and buy him toys and new clothes. But, as well as this being totally and utterly unfair and downright wrong, what the hell did the rest of us do? As well as my brother being a wonderful father, we all doted on him and adore him. So, not only did she keep my nephew from having a loving father, but she decided to keep him from having an entire FAMILY! Since then she met someone new, moved so we couldn’t track her down and settled down. My nephew now calls this new man ‘dad’ as he was very young when the aforementioned incident occurred. She even had the cheek to contact my brother a couple of years ago and asked him to sign over his rights as a father to this new man in her life like he was some sort of fucking business agreement. Luckily, my brother didn’t agree to this. But after a few years of fighting, he finally lost all hope and spiralled into horrific depression and is now telling himself that one day when’s he’s old enough, his son will find him and when that day comes he will be nothing but honest. I wish that, as an Aunty, I had some sort of right to have the power to do something about it. He’s my first and only nephew, everyday is an ache that has become familiar enough to get by somehow. If I feel like that I can’t even begin to imagine how my brother must feel. All we have had of him for the past 8 years is old photos that we hold dear and the memories we replay over and over again in our heads. Why do some mothers see fit to use their children as some sort of pawn? That’s not love. That’s greed! I hope with everything that I have that my brother’s wishes come true and that one day he does come looking for us and when and if that day comes he will know just how much we love him and how torturous these past 8 years have been. Happy birthday my lovely little man. Here’s hoping that we meet again someday very soon❤️

[lostintroylerland]

Imagine if trees gave off wifi signals. We would be planting so many trees and we’d probably save the planet too.

Too bad they only produce the oxygen we breathe

[enslavedemotion-blog]

I'm sick of being made to feel like I'm not good enough. All my life friends, boyfriends, even family members have managed to successfully make me feel like I'm worthless. So when I make the decision to cut that out of my life; why don't the ones I have left support me? They know what's been said and done on other people's parts is wrong, so why don't they support my decision to feel good about myself? Why do they defend these people and their actions? The people who have spread rumours about me without a reason. The people that have put me up on a pedestal just to kick me from a great height when someone more interesting came along? What part of that is morally correct? I'm not a bad person. I would never intentionally hurt anyone. I'm always willing to help those who are in need in any way that I can. I have always been there. So why me? And why the lack of support in my decision to love myself and cut out that negativity? I just don't understand it. I know it would be easier for everyone to get along still but what happens when the effort becomes one sided and I feel completely drained by it? Why should I keep draining myself just to keep others happy? What part of that is fair? And how am I meant to do that without descending into self hatred exactly? Because if there's a way; I'll gladly do it. But I don't see a way.

[enslavedemotion-blog]

So, my relationship with my dad’s side of the family is a little messed up. Okay, that was an understatement; it’s a lot messed up. Growing up I was the apple of my dad’s eye. I couldn’t give two shits what my mum told me to do or the authority she was meant to have. My dad was my everything, and I was his. But, families crumble a part sometimes, and that’s what happened to mine. Only, my dad didn’t just leave my mum, he left me and he left our relationship behind. He just stopped caring. He just went out, got himself a new wife, had a new daughter and that was it. He made it look about as easy as buying a new car. He doesn’t even know me anymore. Ask him what my favourite colour is, or what movies or food I like, or ask him what the first show I performed in was called, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. And I can promise you that. Simple things that every father should know about his daughter and he doesn’t know. Sure, he might still know 7 year old me, but that was 17 years ago and I don’t like Westlife anymore and my favourite colour isn’t purple anymore because I learnt that it didn’t have to be my favourite just because it was my cousin’s favourite.

He broke my heart before any boy ever got the chance to. And that’s why my relationship with his side of the family is so messed up. I love them all with every bit of me, but every time I see them or speak to them it’s a constant reminder that he doesn’t care anymore, and that hurts more than any pain I have ever felt before in my entire life. So, like every person deals with any kind of pain that can be prevented, I avoid it. But my great aunt, well, she became really ill. And any normal person would want to be there for her in any way that they can and stick around just in case, right? Not me. I continued to prevent myself from the pain of remembering. And it cost me my final moments with her. It cost me the time that I could’ve spent with her before she began to forget everyone around her. It cost me my final chance to say goodbye. And I hate myself for that. I hate myself for not being strong enough to be there for her and I hate myself for not being brave enough to let her know that I loved her and I always will. I just hope that wherever she is now? She can forgive me. Because I can’t forgive myself.

[itsthatunique]

“Look at these lockers. They all look alike, right? Not this one. This one is special. It belonged to a girl who killed herself. You see all these ‘don’t kill yourself’ posters up on the wall? They weren’t up before. They put them up because she killed herself.”

[enslavedemotion-blog]

You make me feel left out. You make me feel like I'm going to fail before I've even tried. You make me feel stupid. You make me feel worthless. Why do I even call you my friend?

[skiewards]

[enslavedemotion-blog]

I've been where Hannah Baker was. I can't lie; it's a place I've visited frequently for 16 years. I've planned it out more times than I can count. Every time it changes. Would I leave a letter? Would I speak in a video? Would I pick a song that perfectly describes how I've felt each time and request that it be listened to? Or would I just leave nothing? And become a distant memory. Or a once upon a time with no happily ever after. But there's only one difference between Hannah Baker and I, and no, it's not that she's fictional and I'm not (okay, maybe there's two differences), it's that each time for me? Something or someone comes along, and for what feels like a fleeting moment to me now, I have hope. A new friend walks into my life and makes me feel worthy for a little while. A family member has a change of heart and/or suddenly wants to be there for me. Someone notices something's wrong and reaches out for a split second. A teacher gives me a moment of motivation in a 10 minute tutorial. But it all ends up the same way. It always has done. Those friends that made me feel worthy? Make me feel like I'm worthless. That family member that wants to help? They don't want to help anymore. That someone who reaches out because something's wrong? Decides that it doesn't matter. And that teacher? They don't check in. We're all so wrapped in our own lives to see the people around us that are hurting. To see people who we're supposed to care about silently reaching out for help. And what do we do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. If I were to make tapes? They'd go a little something like this; to the girl who was the first ever to bully me, to beat me until I was black and blue, to pick on me because I was different, to make me afraid of everything. To the other girl, who was once a childhood best friend, who decided that our warring parents meant that we had to be at war too, who decided that I should be ridiculed and hated and attacked for a feud that I wasn't even a part of. To my father who loved me once upon time, but now? He wouldn't even be able to tell you my favourite colour. To my ex boyfriend who took my virginity and continued to take advantage of me sexually, who let me fall in love with him knowing full well he only wanted me for one thing and one thing only, who was ashamed of me because of what other people thought. To my mother who abused alcohol so terribly that she attempted to have sex with my high school crush and only really cares when it affects her and her life. To my best friends, the one who constantly makes me feel like a failure and picks fights with me over the pettiest and most childish of things, the one who was once proud to call me his best friend until someone more interesting came along and he decided that I wasn't fun enough anymore. To the man who sexually assaulted me and stole my bag, who made me terrified to leave my house for months, who made me afraid of the outside world. There's a solution to stop people like Hannah Baker and I feeling this way, and it's so simple. Just be kind. Always be kind. Be someone's talk. Be someone's shoulder to cry on. Be someone's friendly 'hello' that gets them through the day. It's not a lot. Being kind is surely a lot easier than the amount of effort that must go into making someone feel like their life is worth nothing. I've gone through my entire life being kind to every single person I meet, because I dread to think that someone else may be going through what I'm going through, and if being kind helps prevent that? Then I will always be kind. One day you may smile at someone, say hi to them in the street or just sit down and listen to them for a while and you may not know it but you could potentially be saving a life. It's incredible how much a little kindness can do, but that's kind of the sad part; because being kind shouldn't be this incredible, surprising phenomenon that we're not used to, it should be a common trait.

[rupelover]

Rupert Grint just ended Ed Sheeran. (March 2017)

Part 1.

[mortraineys-blog]

Ron talking about Hermione

[digenovanicolo]

Don’t come at me and insult Romione when Ron stood up to Bellatrix at Malfoy Manor telling her to take him instead when she wanted to torture Hermione don’t you dare

[harrypotterhousequotes]

RAVENCLAW: “All our knowledge begins with the senses, proceeds then to the understanding, and ends with reason. There is nothing higher than reason.” –Immanuel Kant (Critique of Pure Reason)

[harrypotterhousequotes]

RAVENCLAW: “If I am a guilty man, my crime is in daring to believe that the truth will out and that no one lie can live forever. I believe it still. Much as you try to bury it, the truth is out there. Greater than your lies the truth wants to be known. You will know it. It’ll come to you, as it’s come to me, faster than the speed of light.” –Chris Carter (Fox Mulder: The X-Files: The Truth)

[enslavedemotion-blog]

My parents are so fucked up its unreal.

[enslavedemotion-blog]

A true friend wouldn't make assumptions and drag you down. A true friend would realise something's wrong.

[enslavedemotion-blog]

I know mentally abusive relationships are widely recognised, but, how come nobody talks about mentally abusive friendships? Because they exist. And they're just as awful. Trust me.

[enslavedemotion-blog]

O

I don’t have the luxury of being able to talk to my mum about things like most girls do. She didn’t die or anything. She’s still here. She just prefers it when the world revolves around her. She likes to talk about her own problems and how horrible her own life is and how miserable she is. It doesn’t matter about anyone else. It doesn’t matter about her parents, or her two kids. She said to me a few moments ago that she doesn’t like it when I talk about my own problems, because I make them all about me. Of course I make them all about me. They’re MY problems. But that shouldn’t matter right? I should be able to talk to my mum about it regardless of the fact it’s “all about me”. I should have her never ending support and unconditional love shouldn’t I? Isn’t that what mums are supposed to do? So I don’t talk to her about anything. I tell her the odd thing every now and then in hopes that she’ll change. But she never does. It either turns into something about her or she doesn’t want to hear it because it isn’t about her. Me me me. And she says she doesn’t like it when I talk about myself. I don’t mind listening to her problems and supporting her. But I do mind when I can’t get the same in return. Isn’t that sort of mother daughter relationship supposed to be a two-way street? But, a little part of me is glad that she’s this way. Because I never want any of my future children that I may have to feel like they can’t come to me with their problems. I never want them to feel like I don’t care and like they don’t matter. And I will walk through fire to make sure that they never feel that way. This way. This empty feeling of not having a parent to turn to like most people have. This guilty feeling, knowing that some people are out there with no mum and dad at all and here I am, moping about the fact that I can’t share my problems with my own mother. I never want them to feel that way. And I will never let them feel that way. I will be there, and they will forever have my unconditional love.