cleverbroadwayurl

[cleverbroadwayurl]

I’m getting the suspicious urge to write again.

Horrible.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

Want an update?????

Started therapy today. First time ever. And I think even if she’s not 100% right for me, she’ll really help.

I’ll keep my mind and eyes open for someone else just in case but yeah.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

I think I’m mourning lives I wasn’t graced with.

I wasn’t on social media for a while so I’m like microdosing that which sucks.

My mind keeps going back to sunshine boy. Which like sucks, right? It’s because I’m in my childhood home and I know that but things just. I don’t know. I wish things could’ve been different. I wish we could’ve been friends, I wish I was part of that show he was in 5 years ago. I wish I had answers; if I had been in that show I’d have answers to so many questions. But I wasn’t. And I have to live with that.

I went out to a fancy dinner, we usually do on dec 27th. It’s connected to my tattoo. But this time no one told me we were leaving until we were out the door. I looked like a mess and I just. Why do I always want to be pretty or attractive or something. Why can’t I just be myself for even 10 minutes. My hair looks bad this week. I feel foolish wearing lipstick.

I started exercising again recently. But it’s not enough. I don’t look how I want to, and I think even when I do insecurity will find a way in because it always does and I hate what I’m seeing in the mirror. I put on a dress from 2 years ago. I felt again foolish. It doesn’t fit. Nothing ever fits. And I just want to feel good about myself but how can I when social media keeps telling me to be this unattainable person?

My best friend held her mom’s service. I took a break from everything and I didn’t even know. I’m starting to realize that I’m just. Everything everyone thinks about me. Everything anyone has ever said. I would like to curl up and have the couch swallow me whole.

It’s so hard to be in an area where it feels like nothing has changed. That everyone is still friends with everyone else and I’m alone because that’s what I chose but I didn’t think that hint hints would fall apart so easily. I never wanted to come back. I should’ve never come back.

And I can hear my brother talking to his friends on zoom and I just pretend that I have friends. Just pretend that things will work out. I’ll pour myself into my work and pretend like I’m doing it for me.

Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine. But everything really fucking sucks right now.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

Wish I could just delete myself and someone else could hit the “undo” button whenever they needed me

[cleverbroadwayurl]

I’m singin a little song called why the fuck is therapy so goddamn expensive I hate being an adult but not being upset every waking moment if everyday is worth more than impulse buying garbage I don’t need

[cleverbroadwayurl]

the bathroom mirror

tw: mentions of dysphoria, body negativity, mentions of plastic surgery, vague mentions of SA/past trauma, vague implications of toxic relationships--platonic and romantic equally. Let me know if I missed something, I'm happy to add it to the list.

I do ask for people 18+ only interact and read this as well.

idk this is just. very venty. read at your own risk!! Also like. I know that some of you know what I look like. I understand that I do have a lot of privilege, but please also keep in mind I do have my own fair share of insecurity, and I am allowed to have that. You are completely valid to have an issue with this piece and to voice your opinions but just keep in mind that I wrote this about an experience that I have, and that I felt the need to write about. Thanks!

**

Looking in the mirror after a shower was always an otherworldly experience: standing in the bright lights when the outside is so dark.

The steam fogged up the mirror’s edges, almost making this feel like a dream, but one so mundane no one would remember it later.

She stepped towards the mirror, head cocking to the left as she examined what was set out in front of her.

Her reflection stared back. It didn’t feel like her, though. She had seen her own body a few hundred times and yet it still felt foreign. The way everything fell, birthmarks, freckles, stretch marks, scars from things long ago laid out on her skin as if she was made of clay, ready to be thrown into the kiln. Everything sat where it was supposed to be, and it was supposed to be familiar, and yet somehow it felt unreal. She felt...detached almost.

She moved her hands around, gently grazing her skin. She felt the tips of her fingers lightly touching, not necessarily in a sensual way, but almost as if she was trying to coax a tiger. Careful. She was careful. And she knew it was her own body, and yet something tugged at the back of her mind, telling her that she really didn’t look like this.

No, she looked worse.

Clothing covered up what she wanted to hide most: traumas, unsavory shapes, anything that would be judged by any passing gaze. It was nights like tonight that she just wanted to be a shapeless blob, curled up into herself where no one could judge her. But it was getting to the point where even when she was alone the ridicule would occur.

I should take a break from social media was the thought that hit her. But she had done that. Really the only one left that she could get rid of was Pinterest. Maybe it was for the best at this point. She was sick and tired of constantly feeling like she needed to look the best and be the best. Tired of wanting people to fawn over her; tired of wanting to feel pretty.

Just because she was tired, though, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t happen. There was always the inevitable “I wish I looked like that” and then going through her daily routine, seeing where she could fit getting in shape in, but it just all felt like a stupid song and dance to her. Inevitably, she would sit on the couch and hope she would have a divine figure, but when it came to exercise, she knew it wouldn’t happen without some kind of motivation other than “god I want to be pretty.”

But was it even pretty that she wanted? Or comfortable? Liked, even? She wasn’t sure. But she wanted these after shower shit shows to stop.

Therapy. I need therapy. She knew why she was feeling that way. She knew this was a side effect from years before and feeling stuck in the same stupid loop she had been in 5 years ago, when someone had fed that loop to her own insecurity, killing her confidence, and thus her sense of self all for their own development, only to turn around and point her out as the villain. And she was being dragged into the whirlpool, down to the bottom of the hole she had grown accustomed to, faster than ever before.

But moving was just around the corner. Therapy would need to wait until she had moved--and had the money. Would her health insurance even cover that anymore? Would it be entirely out of pocket? Maybe she could pay with her--

She sighed. That was a worry for another day. She caught another glimpse in the mirror, and envisioned for a moment getting surgery to look better. As much as she always said she wouldn’t have surgery to look better on her body, and that getting work done was a slippery slope, it seemed to be all anyone did lately. Maybe she needed a nose job. Maybe lip filler would help fill the void of feeling like someone else. She could get her chest done, then people would actually stare as if she was Wonder Woman herself. Maybe the hourglass figure was what was needed in this scenario. She shook her head. Then she’d only look worse.

And of course she didn’t want to take away from people who actually needed those surgeries to feel like themselves. It would be elective for her but for others it might be the saving grace they need. Burn victims, trans people who desired surgery to help them feel less dysphoric, people like her mom and her aunt, who both survived breast cancer. She inhaled. There was a strong possibility of needing that herself anyways.

Her mind wandered to the past, her skin feeling warm from the touch of someone who was not there. She shivered.

Did she even want to be pretty? Most likely not. She just wanted to look...different. Not like any influencer on Instagram who uses way too many filters to get their waist smaller. But...like herself. How she wanted to see herself and be perceived. She wanted to look successful and professional, yet be desirable and unattainable. How stupid these social standards had become.

Yes, she wanted to prove people wrong, that she would find her own way, that she was better off without people who didn’t belong in her life. People who forced her to feel this way in the first place. Why did she even want to please them, though? What was the point?

Glow up culture. That was the point. She wanted to “glow up”. She wanted to be that hot girl at her high school reunion that everyone was kicking themselves for not dating her before. It was a lot of work to just be her and not have to worry so much about how she was being viewed under the general public’s eye. Adding into the mix a whole new routine to “glow up” just felt excessive.

But she was getting a new start soon. Maybe that would be the push she needed. Everything felt so close, sitting on her, almost. But far away was where she was going, and maybe she would be able to take up old hobbies again--ones that made her feel good about herself in the way she was supposed to.

Because at the end of the night, she was trying to be grateful for things she could do, not please the male gaze. But it was so hard to just...do that without someone there too. She liked hanging out with her old friends with her old hobbies because they hyped up one another. There was always something to work on: posture, form, rhythm, anything. It’s so hard to do something when you’re not sure what you’re working for.

Maybe she could fit into the female gaze. No. She already knew she didn’t.

This routine gets old fast, but never fast enough to get it out of her system entirely. She’d had enough for at least one evening.

So she put on her pajamas and focused on skincare. The edges of the mirror were back to clarity. And with clothes on, she could not be so absorbed into critiquing her own body and questioning why she didn’t feel like it was hers. It was the definition of “out of sight, out of mind”.

But even doing that was a chore at this point. Why didn’t she have perfect skin? Where was her “glow up”? Why was she plagued with the whole idea of wanting to be actually conventionally attractive?

Emotionless, she finished her skincare. Her fingers moved across her skin. Maybe tomorrow she would be glowing like the full moon. She walked out of the bathroom, hoping to leave her thoughts in there.

And when she got into bed, turning down the lights, she hoped tomorrow would bring something better. A feeling like she was in her own skin. Maybe she’d wake up early. Maybe she’d go on a run. Maybe she’d convince herself she was worthy of something more than staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, wishing she were someone else. Maybe the competition wouldn’t find her.

She turned out the light and rolled over.

And tomorrow I’ll feel like myself again.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

Sometimes staring at the wall is an acceptable pastime.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

You know I’ve been thinking

Bc I did actually talk to sunshine boy recently. He’s just as sweet as he always was. Long story short he directed a play, I went to the play, embarrassed myself while speaking to him bc I apparently can’t hold a conversation with people I think are cute for more than pleasantries. I decided I was kinda done w feelings and while yes I am absolutely still interested in him I’m gonna let it be.

Buuuuuuuuut I’ve come to the realization of something. Like. I should hate him. I should hate his stupid guts. He was kind of part of a trauma that was so painful for me.

And I don’t.

I think it’s because he didn’t know. And he could place my face but couldn’t place where he’d seen me and I’d like to keep it that way.

I mean he directed a play that spoke vaguely on abuse. It felt like he knew. And that was kind of embarrassing. And I PERSONALLY felt like he knew. But there’s no way, is there?

There are many people he knows that either knew or were close to figuring it out. And still I think it’s a coincidence.

He couldn’t know.

And I don’t hate him.

I don’t even dislike him.

I admire him, truly.

And for this and many other reasons, I’ve decided to not pursue this. It would open so so many doors to terrible things right now (again long story short uhh earl was jealous of them for a stupid reason, so even if everyone has forgotten, it doesn’t matter, there’s a chance someone will remember and then it’ll be really really dangerous. Someone is already sharing information about me to earl. I digress). So if I’m the future we meet up, whatever. But for now I’m good.

Anyways Billie Eilish really said cbu rights in Happier Than Ever huh.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

For the first time in years, I’m breathing much easier than I ever had been.

This past week has been. I don’t know. Restful, I think.

I blocked them on everything. Everything. They cannot get to me now.

The pain is subsiding. My chest doesn’t hurt with every passing breath. I no longer feel like I’m being watched.

I still need time to unlearn and to keep resting, but as I do, I am so thankful for the words that have been spoken to me.

For the first time ever, I can see myself dating someone else with feeling like something bad will happen to both of us. I can see myself being happy. In my hometown? No; much too triggering. But somewhere? Yes.

I don’t flinch when I see someone I know on dating apps. I just sit there and tell myself “they don’t talk about it or you anymore. Breathe. Let it go. You’re you, they’re them. Life continues.”

Do I want to tell more people? Sure. Will it be hard and will I panic uncontrollably until I get the words out when going through those conversations? Yes. But there’s a new freshness to it.

I’m not crazy anymore. I don’t feel crazy. I feel heard. And yes, I’m 90% sure I have some kind of mental response in my brain. Yes I avoid, I panic, I have nightmares and flashbacks, but for the first time ever, grounding myself is starting to get, well, less self destructive.

Mostly because I don’t have a reason to anymore. Why would I torture myself with Facebook? Or Instagram? Or anything? When I could just sit and breathe and REST for a while. Who cares what they’re up to or what happened?? That���s not what we’re talking about!!! We’re talking about NOW and what’s going on and how we’ve been; there’s no time to dwell on it.

There are so many things that are cruel reminders. Outside, inside, whatever. But I know that I have the support now. If I’m somewhere and something happens, I’m more confident that people will come to my aid.

I have justice. I have support. I am resting. I am unlearning. And that’s just fine with me.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

Guys guys guys

We talked it out last night but would you believe that my friend from 4 years ago believed me??? And she said that I never should’ve gone through that???? AND she said she was sorry her silence felt like she was supporting my ex???? She also said people she still talked to from hs didn’t talk about the past????

I’ve been living in a fucked up echo chamber for years where everything I knew I was too scared to confront because I didn’t think I’d be believed. My ex can suck my dick bc I’m free. I’ve never felt so ready to rest and finally get what I deserve: closure and acceptance.

I want everyone here to know that I dyed my hair black and I’m metal as fuck bc I’m telling my best friend from 4 years ago what happened to me 4 years ago

This is the last thing I want before I’m able to let go I think. I don’t care abt the collateral, idc about anything anymore. They cannot touch me and I’m finally happy being in my own body again.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

I want everyone here to know that I dyed my hair black and I’m metal as fuck bc I’m telling my best friend from 4 years ago what happened to me 4 years ago

This is the last thing I want before I’m able to let go I think. I don’t care abt the collateral, idc about anything anymore. They cannot touch me and I’m finally happy being in my own body again.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

I need to post this somewhere because I think it’s funny and I just. Need to share my successes because I’m vain

There’s a video of someone indirectly calling me the ball and chain, on the leg of life, from 2017. 200k+ people have seen that happen to me. My ex prompted them to say it. You know, that one ex.

But I just graduated from a private university with honors, with a degree in pure mathematics, no less, fucking ran a student org during a pandemic, AND found out how to love myself through it all. I’m comfortable being perceived again (that was a huge issue for me after the abuse. I couldn’t take people perceiving me). I learned things about myself I never knew. I grew so much, lead so many people, and ended up having a major influence on so many. I stopped asking for permission about every little thing, and instead started on taking note on what hurt me, and how exactly I could help myself heal and let go, in a sense. And I know this drags it all back but. I think this is a moment where I’m truly proud of myself after having to build everything back to where I had it, and then some. This is a moment I finally feel like home in my own skin, and I think it shows. And now I have physical paper evidence to display my growth.

So tell me again, who’s the ball and chain?

[cleverbroadwayurl]

We’re just gonna *rant* so excuse me pls

Dinner conversations are weird at my house. My family thinks the pandemic is ending soon, that there’s hope. They talk about trips and going out to eat and so much more.

But I’ve lost hope.

I mean I’ve lost a lot over the years, but this. Just feels cruel. I was so worried about R***** graduating back in 2017 that I couldn’t even focus on getting out of my dumb hometown. And you know. ME. Graduating. WITH HONORS. But no I couldn’t even focus on that for one day.

Now my graduation will be held over zoom. I don’t even want to attend. It feels like a joke.

It’s a big accomplishment to graduate college with a 3.6 average GPA (with a degree in MATHEMATICS I might add). I should be able to have any job I want. But with everyone searching, everyone looking, it feels hollow.

I’ve given up hope before, and I’m doing it again.

My mental health has taken a major nose dive at home. Bad enough to where my only resolution for 2021 was to actually get help because it’s affecting so much of my life. My best friend from home won’t even talk to me, like period, which I get but. It hurts. I want to help, I don’t know how, and then she goes on Instagram, thanking her “best friends” for helping her through. I know we just haven’t had time to talk but it still cuts almost as deep as that one sentence she said to me 2 years ago.

Old high school people are finding me, and liking me, on dating apps. Do you know how destructive it is for someone who watched my ex slam a door in my face, watched my physically flinch at that, and then continue to be friends with them, swipe UP, not just right, but super liking my profile? I mean I saw that and went “okay well. I’m in danger I suppose”.

My parents tell me they have weird dreams sometimes. I don’t have the heart to tell them that it’s a 50/50 chance I’ll have weird dreams every night. I wake up often at 3 am from a dream. I usually go right back to sleep; they don’t shake me anymore.

I just. Have nothing. We had a vaccine, it was going to be okay, but with so many variants, I feel nervous about leaving the house. My mom doesn’t get it, neither does my dad.

The barista at Starbucks today when I had to go grocery shopping smiled widely when she noticed I was wearing 2 masks. The clerk at the grocery store 2 days ago complimented my hair. These stick with me because it’s an act of kindness that is so unexpected and so warm, and it’s sad to me that I hold onto them.

I had one friend at my job. rcb stopped talking to me. I had barely any hours. Had several mental breakdowns over money. Still do.

I just feel like I’ll never get back to normal. I’ll feel like my fight or flight will always be kicked in. Which, it was before, but now especially. It’s so hard when it feels like nobody is rooting for you. Like nobody gets it. “Your hometown has a great job market” yeah if you feel like being a bootlicker for tech companies and pretentious as hell. Also if you don’t know anyone here, then yeah! But they’re all nice and not kind here so. Fake nice only to stab others in the back, that’s the culture. Think Chloe Price from life is strange.

I cannot bake in peace here, my family always says “the kitchen is a mess” or “you don’t need to decorate it” or “this better not have any weird stuff in it”.

My brother doesn’t even fucking talk to me!!!! I get it he’s 25 and tired of it too but come on!!!! I’m trying and it sucks that he won’t try right back!! And I don’t even fucking know what I did to him!!!!!

I’m just. Very tired of it all. The only good thing about working was the distraction.

I’m sorry if you’re reading this post and haven’t heard from me. I’m sorry if you’re reading this post and offered me to open up to you but please understand that it just. Isn’t a good time.

Props to u if u got to the end. I’m taking a shower. Might play Mario kart. Might watch the keepers again I’m not sure.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

* shameless starters

‘ hey, it’s okay. here we go. shh. ’

‘ you okay? it’s just… you opened that same cabinet, like, three times. ’

‘ you seem a little… caffeinated. ’

‘ i think i’m depressed. i’ve been feeling kind of funky lately. ’

‘ not your mother, just concerned. ’

‘ good for you, it’s great to get that stuff out. feel better? ’ 

‘ hi, peanut. hey, it’s okay. come here. ’

‘ we all get depressed. how the fuck can we not living around here? ’

‘ that’ll be a challenge. good thing i ate my wheaties. ’

‘ anything you wanna tell me? promise i won’t freak out. ’

‘ you know, i’d hug you but neither of us would like that. ’ 

‘ hey, hey, you okay? feeling sick or something? ’  

‘ you are so lucky that they called me and not the police. ’

‘ breathe for me. do you see me? ’

‘ because you’ve been running your ass around here like scarface and i care about you, okay? ’

‘ yo, sleepyface. ’ 

‘ is there room over there for me? ’

‘ holy fuck. ’

‘ so what you’re saying is you’ve had a couple shitty days. ’

‘ is it okay if i say i’m proud of you? ’

‘ my job is to keep this house going. ’

‘ you know, there are a lot of kids who need a home. ’ 

‘ i want you to know you are a really good kid with a big heart. you have some hard times ahead of you, but you’re gonna do great. ’

‘ you had me so worried. not one call? ’

‘ life’s kinda… fucked up right now. ’

‘ this is some heavy shit, kid. ’

‘ i’m not used to having people yell at me all day long. ’  

‘ you stop behaving like the world is out to get you when it is so clearly dropping gifts at your feet. or you keep doing what you’re doing and you end up in a cell somewhere angry and out of options. ’

‘ you could do a lot worse than parents that give a shit. ’ 

[cleverbroadwayurl]

* hurt prompts

‘ are you bleeding? ’

‘ take it easy. you hit your head. ’

‘ where does it hurt? ’ 

‘ sit still and let me take a look! ’

‘ how did you get that black eye? ’ 

‘ you should see the other guy. ’ 

‘ did i say you could get out of bed? ’

‘ that’s going to leave a bruise. ’

‘ i’ll get some ice. ’ 

‘ that’s what you get for picking fights. ’

‘ are you trying to give me a heart attack? ’

‘ what’s wrong with you? ’

‘ you can barely stand. ’

‘ did you throw the first punch? ’

‘ that’s a nasty bump. ’

‘ get in the car. you’re going to the hospital. ’

‘ at least bandage it. ’ 

‘ no, you’ll get an infection. ’ 

‘ wet floor signs are there for a reason, you know. ’

‘ you’re lucky. that icicle could’ve killed you. ’

‘ where’s your gratitude? i rescued you! ’

‘ i’m calling the nurse. ’

‘ was that stupid dare worth it? ’

‘ what happened to you? ’

‘ sit down. i’ll make some hot chocolate and fix you right up. ’

‘ are those bandages? ’

‘ you need stitches. ’

‘ look out for that tree branch. ’

‘ i’ve got you. just stay awake. can you do that for me? ’

‘ lean on me. ’

‘ you got two choices: let me carry you, or die out here. take your pick. ’

‘ shit, you’re burning up. ’  

‘ you’re not dying. it’s only a sprained ankle. ’

‘ lie down. ’

‘ i’m sorry. i know it hurts. here, hold my hand. ’

‘ you’re in no condition to be walking around. ’

‘ wake up! wake up! ’

‘ i don’t feel sorry for you. ’

‘ look at your face! ’

[cleverbroadwayurl]

it’s march 1st, and it’s cheese, but it’s fun and it’s free

[cleverbroadwayurl]

I’m so sorry I haven’t been active or doing literally anything at all. These past few weeks have been some of the hardest of my life.

I’m remembering, which don’t get me wrong is awesome, but I’m also home, where you know, stuff happened.

I found my oldest friend on a dating app. He seems to be doing well but god I should’ve told him stuff four years ago and I didn’t and that made me upset.

My best friend’s mom died. She was very close to me as well and she’s taking it very hard. With that, I can’t talk to her about anything I actually wanted to talk to her about. I was actually planning on kind of ending our friendship because of some shit she pulled earlier. It’s hard to do that when she won’t even respond to your text.

My job sucks. Next.

My school isn’t planning. They suck at planning. I hate them right now.

I dont have friends. I can’t see my friends from school.

Stuff is coming back. Stuff I didn’t want. Honestly what’s keeping me afloat is animal crossing and life is strange (which, if I didn’t have LiS, I would be in a lot more trouble tbh).

But thank you for your patience. Stuff sucks right now. I won’t get too much into it other than this. I just wanted a filler before I flat out just. Lost it in a vague post again.

-cb