#exsalvation

[notmybrotherskeeper]

There are mice that live in the passion fruit vines growing outside my window.

They run quickly through the halls of my house

To whisper stories to me as I sleep

Their voices are soft and soothing. Aloe after a hot summers day.

They whisper of ripe fruit hidden under the leaves

Of the sky filled with constellations lost to time.

One day I know they will walk with me as I take death’s hand and one day I know they will guide me to whatever comes after.

There are mice living in the passion fruit vines growing outside my window.

[notmybrotherskeeper]

The rain makes me a bit nostalgic now. It reminds of sitting on the balcony of my first apartment. It’s 2 am and I can’t sleep and it’s raining but it’s very quiet and my astigmatism makes the lights of the passing cars look like shooting stars. It’s nice. And I’m smoking through a pack of American spirits wondering how I’m gonna deal with the mold problem. I miss it sometimes. The smell of smoke and petrichor. In another life maybe I can stay there forever.

[notmybrotherskeeper]

Weird vent about my mom

I have issues with authority. Specifically women who have positions of power over me. It scares me I guess. Not for like a weird misogyny reason but like all things this too leads back to my mother. It’s like all of the sudden I’m ten years old again dissociating on the couch while she screams at me for never being good enough. Like shit I can’t even have a female therapist. I just I can’t handle being vulnerable in any way when it comes to women. I should probably address that. I just get so fucking scared. I try to not let it affect other people and for the most part I’m pretty good about it but god I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared until I realized I was stuck in a room of women who were all my mother’s age and all hated something about me. Either cause I’m trans or younger than them or whatever. Just all of the sudden I forget all the progress I made and I can’t stand up for myself and I’m just a little kid that should be seen and not heard. God this all just sounds so gross. I fucking hate myself.

[notmybrotherskeeper]

Dread that’s all I fucking feel anymore. I don’t know how I’m ever going to escape this fucking house. I’m so fucking tired. I can’t keep dragging myself across the field of glass. I can’t I cant I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t

[notmybrotherskeeper]

Vent

Why am I never fucking enough no matter what I fucking do it’s just never enough or I didn’t do it right I just fucking hate myself so fucking much I can’t stand being in my own fucking skin. I’m bleeding out on the fucking floor trapped fucking trapped and I can’t get out and I’m going to fucking die like this disgusting and wrong and fucking worthless I can’t fucking stand myself fuck. Why can’t I ever do anything right? Why can’t I just be good fuck god fucking dammit I hate you fuck why did you fucking make me like this why am I so fucking fractured I can’t even fucking think straight there’s too many fucking voices in my fucking head and they all fucking hate got why fucking help please I can’t do this anymore go fuck please it hurts so much I’m trapped I’m trapped I’m fucking trapped let me the fuck out god fucking dammit please I just want to be good enough for once in my fucking life I want to be fucking good enough why am I never fucking good enough please fuck I hate it here please I just want to be good enough just fucking once please please fuck I’ll never be fucking good enough I’ll die like this

[notmybrotherskeeper]

I’ve been thinking a lot about neutrality recently. I’m not good at being neutral about how I feel about myself. Either I’m the worst person alive and I’m going to rot in hell and I end up sending my self into a downward spiral of self destruction or I’m a saint (the former happens much more often). Either way I’ve been working really hard at just seeing myself as human. I make mistakes I fuck up and I do good things I am kind to people these are just facts. I take in the facts about myself and I do my best not to measure my moral worth

[notmybrotherskeeper]

I keep thinking about that post about making a cherry pie. I don’t think I’ve gotten to the point where I get to make my own but today I am making orange garlands. And I am string popcorn too. And my hands will get sore from pinching the needle between my fingers and I might burn a few of the oranges but I will hang them up anyway.

This is the first year I am decorating my own tree. It doesn’t really feel real but maybe one day it will.

[notmybrotherskeeper]

When I was born it was incredibly traumatic for my mother. Not because I was unplanned, I was a rainbow baby, but the hospital team was a shit show and it’s just a long story and it sent my mom into the worse spiral and ended up with me getting fed half a bottle of formula a day for a few weeks.

I had told this to my therapist when telling him my life story and shit and after he looked at me and just said. “I am so sorry. It sounds like you never even had a chance to thrive.” Before this I had never really considered that my birth might have been apart of my trauma but when he said it like that… I don’t know it just felt like something kind of broke in me. Like glass had shattered and I just immediately started crying. It sounds a bit stupid but I don’t know I just can’t stop thinking about it.