i don't feel like i need to talk to someone until i desperately do. and then, once someone is talking to me, either the threat of my loneliness is gone or i feel like my desperation is uncalled for. my baseline of "happiness" is barely getting by and smoking weed. i'm not sure either make me happy, to be honest.
i judge myself constantly. i'm too lazy to deserve anything worthwhile. obstacles that are usually challenging and engaging make me feel like i should just give up and the solution is too hard. i've been unemployed for almost two months after spending three years in a job wishing i could quit nearly every shift. at first it was liberating and now i just feel like i lost so much i don't even know where to begin in gaining anything back.
i don't want to reach out to people. i don't want to be around anyone. my home feels like a trap. my relationship feels like a trap. i feel like i fucked everything in my whole life up in the stupidest way and every time i make a step forward in making it better, i go ahead and fuck some other part of my life up, as though for fun.
i've been trying to regain my momentum through a series of lists and poorly executed agendas. i can see the differences from where i was and how i'm doing. i can also see the differences between my somewhat okay days and my absolutely awful days. the bad days are pretty bad.
i don’t want to leave my boyfriend but i don’t want to live here anymore. i don’t want to live in someone else’s home anymore. i’m so fucking sick of it. i know, i should be grateful for being safe and warm and loved and shit. but i’m not. i’m depressed and getting worse daily. i’m just trying my best.
Facebook has always made me feel alone. Like I’m shouting into a tin can and like I’m literally posting on a bulletin board of Particularly Important Messages and all I’m hoping for is that someone says hello. That I get that instant gratification of making a post and seeing who likes it. But I have had so much to say for so long that saying anything at all feels like I’m starting in the wrong place.
Maybe that’s toward people in general. I think I’m working it out and some of it has to do with journaling. And I feel comfortable enough with my vulnerability (but not too comfortable) that I’m posting my thoughts online. Right now, the bells and whistles of privacy online are much too threatening and complex to navigate or I would be up in there tweaking them.
If you are seeing this, I am inviting you to a smaller conversation. My living room, if you will. Or my diary, depending on how you view it. At this moment, I am kind of brain dumping, so it is a monologue for now. It’s the surface of shadow work, I suppose--identifying your damage before diving in head first. Which is kind of my plan. You can get to my living room by clicking here
There IS a password so you have to message me for it. I am hoping to be updating regularly at my new tumblr space. If you like my words but don’t wanna be typing a password to see em, you can go to my weirdo 30/30 and gawk at the art gallery of my mind.
I know it looks like I am an extrovert, but I identify very strongly as an introvert. Often I can come across as cold or rude, distracted, absent, or even shy. I am overwhelmed most of the time by just about everything. Sorry if it seems I am ignoring you, I just have so many loud things happening inside of me.
Repeat after me
-I’m an idiot and wrong.
-Veganism can be made affordable.
-Veganism is fucking cruelty free. That’s what it’s all about.
- Veganism is the best choice for everyone, if everyone did it.
-I’m a fucking asshole for making this completely wrong text post and should shut the hell up now.
People are literally starving in South America because all the Quinoa crop is being exported mainly for white vegans who want to live “cruelty-free” but don’t care about brown people as much as they do about animals.
hello i am also here with The Science™ to back up the fact veganism is NOT even the most sustainable dietary option for humanity, like not even in the ballpark of close
I want to take a moment and just reflect on all that has happened in my life, everything that has brought me here, how I have grown, and maybe stuff I still need to work on. How I am still me through all of it. In the last few years (I don't remember the last time I posted!) I have gone through something of a wringer and I am in, what I fondly refer to as, "the crucible".
I have survived an abusive relationship that nearly had me swinging from the rafters. I have lived in poverty and eaten straight out of cans. There are a remarkable amount of things that I have tolerated on account of survival and an even more staggering number of things I will never tolerate again. Somehow I have become more compassionate in my hardship, more understanding with each obstacle, and I can see now more of how I can grow a little more every day.
This life isn't easy, I am nearly always trying my hardest. Maybe not trying at the right things at the right times, but I can give myself the space to make the mistakes I need to in order to learn. It doesn't always feel like growth or compassion in the moment, I still kick myself when I make mistakes even if it is just saying words poorly or using the wrong ones or being a total and utter klutz where I wish I weren't. I feel I have "leveled up" in my self care, and there is still so much more to pay attention to.
When I moved to the city, I felt a little bit like I was waiting for something to reveal my purpose there. I stopped waiting when I started to fear for my life, when I felt trapped in my own apartment and couldn't trust my roommate and friend because I was more of a burden than he ever wanted to bear. I had maybe grown complacent leading into a deep sadness that permeated nearly all interactions. My survival became more important as I moved into Brooklyn and found myself living among addicts that had no qualms fighting at 4am and bringing their fight into the hall and down the street, watched a friend seize on my couch from mixing the wrong drugs together, felt the pressure of my loving relationship become toxic around my throat. I don't know when I stopped worrying about my survival. It continued as I returned to New Jersey with my delusional and psychotic partner and even through the dying strands of our relationship that faded with novel-length emails about how I needed Jesus in my life (a barely practicing Jew with fairly liberal views and free-form spiritual practices...being told to be obedient to Jesus). Still addicts and the question of religion were never a theme in my life prior to 2010, I was mainly comprised of wandering nights looking for magic in the streetlights and hoping for a conversation of depth that can only be found on a midnight beach. I never found myself at the bottom of a series of bottles or cradling a syringe before. I never brushed shoulders with those that had before I left home, at least not openly and willingly and knowingly.
I have found more and more that each time I shut out a group of disadvantaged people, I am still shutting myself out and ignoring the grit of humanity like I am guaranteed the privileges I have, though they may be few.
A friend recently pointed out how "recovery" is a term used for those who are pursuing sobriety and seeking help for their mental health. I know a number of people at this stage but far more who are seeking a way out of their own heads with the wrong medications. I sometimes ponder how I dodged that bullet, but I digress. I do have my own recovery, though I skipped the addicted to drugs portion of the program and moved directly into treating a mental illness that has tormented me for as long as I can remember.
It is strange, looking back at the landscape of my life and seeing what has effected my life. The music I listen to...so strange how powerful it is in moods and how weighted it has been. I have memories so clear and yet more and more these days I feel present and even when I am groggy, feel as though the world is clearer.
I can see, in an eerie way, how the tension of my past is being released, I am becoming more comfortable and genuine each moment. I am so grateful I went through the process last autumn of enrolling myself in massage therapy school. This skill can take me anywhere as long as I remain vigilant about my well being. I am so grateful for every single experience that led me back to it and I have had within those walls. Even the ones that have happened outside, the beautiful and the ugly. It has all shaped me and made me stronger and more aware. It took me 10 years to get here and every massage therapist I have met has told me that it changed their life for the better.
For once, finally, I am proud of myself. And I am still moving forward.
Let’s start off with your relationship status: Single as in fuck off.
Could you have sex with the last person you text messaged? Nope--neither the person I last texted nor received a text from.
Is the last person you kissed also the next person you’ll kiss? Probably. Hopefully. Most likely.
Who has the power to break you? HAHAHAHA. No one but me, bitches.
Have you been disappointed in the past three days? Uh,...yeah.
Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t do? You remember that time you thought blowies were gross...?
If you were drunk and you couldn’t walk, would the person you last kissed, take care of you? Okay, so first--the commas in this question are broken. And second--yes, it’s only fair to reciprocate, damn it.
Have you ever fallen asleep in school? Often. (But not anymore!)
Who’s the biggest douche bag that you know? That’s a tough call, I know a lot of big douchebags. A LOT.
Did you kiss someone at 12 on New Years? Not at 12, really. Before AND after, though.
Person you have feelings for shows up at your house RIGHT NOW, you say? So....come snuggle.
Do you think you will have the same best friend a year from now? Probably.
Do you dislike anyone? Yes. You.
Do you have empty bottles of alcohol hidden somewhere? They don’t need to hide and they ain’t empty.
Who was last to touch your butt? Probably someone at school. (I go to massage school.)
Do you have siblings over the age of 21? ...yeah. We all are.
How did you get your last bruise? Probably from doing something terribly klutzy. I have one from a night of bruises that I know is from sparring with a foam sword.
Where is your biological father right now? *HUGE SHRUG*
Are you missing someone/something? Yes. Sleep.
Honestly, did you really love the last person you said I love you to? I don’t say it if I don’t mean it.
What do you think when someone kisses you on your forehead? AWWWWZ
What do you usually do right when you wake up? Yawn and try to snuggle back into bed.
Would you rather have orange juice or milk with your breakfast? Orange juice even though they both give me phlegm.
When was the last time you were told you were cute? Sometime last week. I don’t know. It was friendly compliments.
Are you taller than most people your age? Er. Is this actually a survey for like...12 year olds? Ooops. I am on the tall-average side for a lady.
If you caught your significant other cheating on you what would you do? Probably flip out at first and then start asking what the deal was. Who knows, I’ve never found out about that kind of stuff until after we were broken up.
Ever sat in someone’s lap because there were no more seats in a vehicle? YUP. Been on both sides of this equation before.
Do you think somebody likes the same person you do? Maybe. My person is pretty amazing when shit ain’t falling apart.
Last time you kissed someone, was your hand around their neck? In that choking way or that like…cradling way? Because yes.
Do you currently have a hickey? Nope! I just bruise myself, I’m not territory to be marked.
Have you been kissed by someone who’s name starts with a k? Yes. Their name was Kyle. Well...it still is their name.
Ever get hurt by someone who promised they wouldn’t? Actually, no. Everyone that has hurt me has never promised such a thing and everyone that has promised me has been able to keep that process. This is probably why it hurt so bad when someone finally did...
Where is your cell phone? Charging on my bed.
Do you have sex everyday? I don’t think I have a schedule...but right now I share a room with my mom, so....no.
What are you sick of? Being tired. (And oh, so tired of being sick.)
How many days until your next birthday? 77 days.
Do you think you are a good person? If I’m not having a stormy day on the inside, yeah. Even then, that’s just what I think, not reality.
Would you ever smile at a stranger? You ask like I don’t do it all the time.
Do you think you’ll be married in 10 years? No idea. It’d be nice to know whether or not I should bother by then.
What’s one of your locked messages? :( I have a new phone.
Were you happy when you woke up today? Happier I guess.
When were you on the phone last? And with who? My person and it was like...6pm
Have you talked to a complete jerk today? No! Doing good on avoiding those lately!
What’s a fact about the last person who text messaged you? She’s grown up so much!
What are you excited for? Going to sleep tomorrow.
What were you doing yesterday? Gosh, you folks are so nosy! I was at school.
Honestly, who was the last person to tell you they love you? My mom.
What was the last thing you put in your mouth? Chocolate.
Are you scared to fall in love? Yes, but only in that exhilarating sense. But no, not really. I think I’m kind of done being scared of that.
Last person you wanted to fight? Some douche nut that hurt my friend.
What time is it right this second? ***undisclosed***
Is there something you want to tell someone? There’s a lot of somethings I’d like to tell to a number of people.
What do you want right now, be honest. Cuddles and sleep.
Who was the last person you took a picture with? I couldn’t say, to be honest.
Do you care too much/not at all/just enough? I have varieties of all three depending on the issue. Mostly the first two at any given point.
I bet you miss somebody right now? Hey! That’s not even a question!
Can you honestly say you’re okay right now? Mostly.
Do you tell people you’re okay when you’re really not? I have a poor habit of being overly honest.
Do you have someone of the opposite gender you can tell everything to? What is the opposite gender of Maggie? I have a friend without the same genitals as I whom I can say pretty much everything that’s on my mind to.
What would happen if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We’d get a place in Colorado and happily ever after.
Do you know anyone named Joshua? Too many.
What jewlery are you currently wearing? My mala and my lion ring.
What were you doing 10 PM Friday night? Not going to sleep like I so desperately wanted to.
What are you doing tomorrow? I’m in school until like...6pm.
Have you ever had your heart broken? You bet your sweet ass.
Do you think you will be in a relationship three months from now? Nah. I’m married to school right now anyhow.
Have a bestfriend? YES!
Plans for the weekend? Keeping to myself, mostly.
Are you in a good mood right now? No, but I’m not in a bad mood either.
Do you think relationships are ever really worth it? I guess so. If they are beneficial and healthy and stuff. But even bad ones are kinda worth it for the learnings.
How long have you liked the person you like? It’s hard to say. Depends on your perspective. Anywhere from a little over a year to an eternity.
depression after years of having it isn’t even sadness it’s just being exhausted and being allowed one (1) emotion a week and sometimes your brain is like “die” and you’re like “shut up brad”
when you go from a bad situation into a better one you may collapse exhausted and unsure what to do and full of grief, you may need time to regain the ability to do things as yourself or motivated by anything other than terror, you may need time to process or mourn or fall apart in ways you could not before,
and people may use this as proof that the old situation was better for you, proof that you need to go back, and it is not proof that it was better for you or proof that you need to go back
It’s so incredibly common to “fall apart” when you’re finally safe. You no longer need to stay so tightly coiled in on yourself, you can finally leave survival mode and process your trauma. You’re not holding yourself up by sheer terror anymore and suddenly the damage that terror has done to you becomes immediate and obvious.
I am in that stage right now. I call it “caterpillar soup” because I can see how transformative it is. It’s important to note that not only is this important, it is necessary. Just as a chrysalis is a place for the caterpillar to fall apart, it is stable enough for that mush to put itself back together and become something beautiful. I’m a mess now, but I am also going to be a fucking butterfly.
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