#onlyfansjourney

[sassyoptimist]

Note To Future Me.

I can’t wait for the day I finally crawl out of this mess, am at peace with myself and can sit myself down and say, “Damn, we survived. If it weren’t for that one person who dragged me through every panic spiral and breakdown, I’d never have made it.… so from the bottom of my heart, soul and my last three brain cells—thank you to…

… me. I would like to thank myself. Me, myself and I.”

That chickie may be one tough cookie, but boy oh BOY, is she a nightmare. Hahaaa. Damn. I lost hair ‘cause of that girl. Do you know how much she can talk? Just on and on, all fucking day, with the complaining and the whining and the doubting. I knew we’d get here but that motherfucker be smoking all the crack by herself and she ain’t been sharing nothin’. Now I’ve got grey hair and no hair at the same time, meanwhile she cluckin’ around like a goddamn spring chicken as if all of that drama and trauma didn’t happen.

That bitch crazy.

You do realise that I’m talking to myself… about myself.. as myself?

Did someone say mental asylum? I’m pretty sure that got tossed into the air at some point.

Anyway, I’m nowhere close to the finish line buttttt one can hope that internal monologue comes to life soon because I am tiiiiired.

[sassyoptimist]

Halfsies.

I have this terrible habit of digging the skin out my thumbs when I’m overly stressed out.

I have half a thumb left from all the picking and scraping.

I know I shouldn’t feel sorry for myself right now but I can’t help but recount all these happenings and think “what the actual fuck?!”

The “home” I’m staying in has now taken away WiFi. I guess she expects me to beg for it even after she was the one who accused me of being a prostitute. What?

I seriously have to stop asking “how much worse could it possibly get?” Because the universe is starting to take that as a challenge.

So let’s see, where are we?

No income, no roof over my head, now no WiFi, and my mother has threatened to take the car away.

What’s left?

I have no fucking idea.

But… we push through and we make it happen. Somehow… even though all I want to do right now is curl up into a ball and stay there until it’s okay to unravel and expose myself to this cruel world again.

Sigh.

[sassyoptimist]

Peace Over Pretty Things.

Apparently with age comes wisdom and maturity.

I beg to differ.

I know people in their sixties who still don’t know their ass from the elbows.

With this drought I’ve been in though, I’ve realised it’s the simple things in life I crave the most.

Better health care, for instance. My PCOS has been having the time of its life without its prescribed medications and hormonal balances. Have fun, for now, buddy.

Peace and good hygiene. I cannot wait for the day when I clean up my bathroom and kitchen and can come back to it being sparkly clean after five minutes, instead of the crime scene I usually walk into.

How are you that fucking dirty???

I was having a chat with my bestie now, who also seems to be going through it. And we both agreed that sometimes a blow up mattress and two minute noodles is better than being in a place that may seem to have it all but also nothing at the same time.

Where’s my peace? My happiness? My lack of anxiety?

I’ll do the blow up mattress. I’ll do the noodles. I’ll live with one pot, one plate, one fork and one sheet, but I won’t do this again.

No. Fucking. Way.

[sassyoptimist]

Questionable Chaos.

Have you ever just been in the middle of sex and mentally switched off? One minute you’re moaning and panting from the incessant licks; hungry hands grabbing and pulling; eager legs wrapping and drawing the heat in closer, and once it’s in… nothing.

Something in you just switches off and you’re left laying there, thinking to yourself “fuuuuck, can he just finish already?”. The mental to-do-lists start getting created amidst questioning your own sexual responses to your current situation, “why am I not feeling this anymore? I thought I wanted sex? I did want sex. What happened?”

The spiralling continues and evolves into a never ending catapult of questionable chaos, until it’s spiralled so far down, he can now feel the after effects on your body, leading him to gently roll off and lay down beside you.

You turn your head towards him as he does, fully knowing why he did what he did but needing to ask anyway, you know, just to be polite…

“What’s wrong?”

“I could sense that you weren’t feeling it.”

Oh. Shit.

This is where you fumble and dig around for words, anything you can string together that won’t emasculate him or deflate his ego, so instead of telling him that you’re actually fantasising about a tall, muscular giant with a salt and pepper beard… who’s married… you say:

“I’ m sorry, I’ve just been too much in my head recently. Work has been stressful.”

Lies. All of it. Lies.

But, did it shatter his ego? No. Did it make it feel like it was him that was the problem? Also no. See, I can be nice.

Sigh.

I never want to see him again.

[sassyoptimist]

Suffocation.

Every time I sit down to write, I draw blanks. I think it’s a sign that I’ve hit pure panic mode. I’m in this state that’s indescribable. Desperately craving freedom but freaking out because the amount of work I need to do to get there is slightly… overwhelming.

What choice does one have?

Like I said before, it’s either I stay here and drown or keep moving even though I feel like I’m trapped under water and running out of breath.

Have you ever had that dream? Where you’re under water and you try to swim to the top but no matter how much you kick your legs and stroke your arms in an upward movement to get out, you never seem to reach the surface…

The good thing about that is that it’s just a dream, and you wake up from it eventually… what about this? This is my reality.

I’m in over my head. Doesn’t matter how many hours I work, how much research I cram, how many damn online courses I start—it still feels like I’m just unlucky.

But then again… what’s luck got to do with it? Don’t they say you write your own destiny? That consistency is the mother of success?

Only one way to find out, right?

So here we are, still swimming and struggling for air… but the key takeaway from that?

We’re still swimming.

[sassyoptimist]

Sassy Optimist

My chaos unleashed.