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Head Above
During my childhood, I always felt like my head was above the water, just barley at all times. I figure I still feel that way a lot sometimes but I dislike admitting that. I told my father, "I have seriously never met another person who watched behaviorists come into their home".
From a young age - I knew things were different. too hyper aware and not always in a positive way. I would see medication around the house and google it to the bone that when it would come up in a conversation I would overhear - I knew that it was in fact the mood stabilizers that were being talked about.
I knew that she was loyal to him and I knew that she wasn't stable. I remember the nights with my mother in her bed while we felt a sense of emptiness together - of dad not being there. I gave her a lot of credit and it was deserved but it doesn't mean everything is black or white. now, I must act like a zombie around her or an actress. it doesn't have to be like this - get away.
my father and i's relationship is genuinely one of the most valuable things in my life, if not the most valuable thing. he is one of the only family members who doesn't bash me right away with their adult opinion or judge me. he trusts me yet because he lets me come to him, our relationship is genuine. growing up, in the bed with my mother at night crying, I felt resentment towards him. towards his workaholic mindset. his will to succeed and to never give up was something I now appreciate. he may be the only person that I feel cares for me. that sounds funny but it is like I actually know he enjoys my company and not just because he helped create me. I think we are similar people - we even each other out. I ask him one question and he comes back with 20 answers. he asks me one question and I come back with 3 answers and a question back at him. we can chat yet we can open up - and not in a boundary crossing way like my mother. we can chat like father-daughter and like friends. we can chat like respectful individuals while with my mother, it is different. and I don't know how to explain it. dad allows a space for me. he is not only present but he is receptive to me and what I am going through. he catches on but he also is empathic. tonight he told me that his family went to group therapy when they were younger. I asked him if studying psychology was considered taboo to his side of the family. not only do I learn from him but we also have so much love for one another. it is something I cannot explain with words because that is how much my dad means to me. he protected me when my mom didn't.
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Doing big girl things -> going manic and applying for a bunch of internships even though my schedule is so busy already right now
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Literally can’t wait to smoke cigarettes and be women together and just rant about our depressing love lives and shitty things people have done to us while we go thrifting and chat and drink coffee and la la la.
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Post finger printing for new job. You have to make things feel exciting.
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September
it is coming to the end, September comes to an end, just like every month does.
crying to his words and his letters - how he just explains his name & then signs it.
I hear the voices outside, voices of the kitties, voices of my old screams, and the voices of my current self making space through the blinds.
being a woman will always lessen the respect that a singular family will feel towards me - yet as women we learn to accept that.
September Sunday or Sunday September.
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i told the moon about us
I told the moon about us, and she cried.
she told me it is possible that the love I have is love for you.
that the love you have is love for me, yet we are aren't admitting it, it comes out of us subconsciously - like when I am washing my hair in the shower and I wonder how it would be if you were touching my hair instead.
or when I am falling asleep at night and I wonder how it would be if when I turned over you were actually there, and not just in my daydreams.
you are creative - you are something worldly wonder. I can barley put my finger on it - on the feeling I feel when I think of you. because you are like a flower, you are the waves on the morning of a beautiful sunrise, you are the clouds on the morning of a foggy morning, and you are the dog running around & barking because he wants to be played with. you are not someone I have ever met before - it is almost like meeting yourself but human beings carry too much insecurity so how dare could I ever view myself as I view you. you are something.
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