fleshbloodcomeundone - Tumblr blog

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

i find my trauma leaking in moments like this. maybe that's why i did not want to get attached again. i find myself returning to how i was before. how i become clingy and needy and act as if i am deprived of attention. i feel as if i am having some sort of withdrawal. it's sort of ridiculous. cause it feels like i can't breathe and i can't calm down. and cigarettes don't work. yeah, they don't work.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

may 3 2024 7:54 PM

i cannot help but think that i might be entering another toxic relationship similar to what i had in 2015-2019. that i might be attached because of the chaos. that i might only know i love him because it has become so chaotic that i feel i'm at gunpoint every time he does something or says something i am permanently hurt with. the things he says to me just stays with me. and i don't even know if he's truly apologetic about it.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

may 2 2024 1:57 AM

i feel so stupid. i feel like i gave myself all the warning signs and i completely shoved past them because i somehow have this shimmering but microscopic hope in me that this might be different. now, i find myself facing 2 red flags that i can't seem to shrug off. and i thought this was going to be different. i thought i could finally break the vicious cycle of toxic and tragic relationships. i thought i could finally be in one where i could put all my armor down and be secure. but no, there is always a catch. like i'm fighting the same battle just with newer opponents. i feel pathetic. i feel so fucking stupid for feeling this way. letting myself run free and now i wish i were shackled. i wish i didn't allow myself to fall. i should have stood my ground more. i was fine! i was fine alone. i was getting a hang of things. and then, this comes in. and it is tempting. because it is different. but yet again, i enter myself in situations i am familiar with. so it can't be entirely different. except, now, i feel myself developing a new coping mechanism. which is to be detached. i do not want to yell and scream what i feel anymore. i just want out. i want to be away from the chaos. i want to be so far that my thoughts are left behind me somewhere. i am afraid of wanting this. i wish i didn't want it anymore. i am tired and sad again. how pathetic. i am here again.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

jan 6 2023 7:42 AM

a couple of days ago, we watched a horror series. it was a reality show about paranormal investigators and clairvoyants/mediums staying in a haunted location for 28 days. one was labeled a 'sensitive.' other than being a medium, she said that she really does feel on vibes. and i figured i might probably have that as well. times when i randomly just don't like the place or when i feel the most nervous or the most terrified, i've just labeled myself as maarte or anxious. but it was usually always correct when i gave into it.

there are houses i don't like or i just don't vibe with. i've always felt that way about many places growing up. certain corners i don't like looking at or certain hallways that give me the creeps. i always thought i was just weird. never thought of anything about it. until i grew up and realized my body was probably trying to tell me something.

coming to think of it, when it happens, it's sort of like seeing a black cloud over it. or feeling a dark cloud over me. around the corners of my vision. ganon. and i always thought it was just me being anxious. but what if i actually gave into it and focused on it? would i actually be able to pick up more than i think? i've always sort of denied the 6th sense on me. but i think i have it. i just can't give in to emotions all the time thought. maybe i'll look into it soon.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

dec 29 2022 9:24AM

thinking about you and things i wish you’d do better just stresses me out so much. how did we come to a point where i could hate you so much? i do not understand this. i have been feeling resentment towards you for so long that i do not even remember a time i genuinely felt relaxed about you. i feel consumed by this dislike towards you. yet i cannot bring myself to completely cut the cord because i live here. and that i do not actually want to leave because of the privileges i have here. that’s something i have a hard time telling people about because i feel i won’t entirely be understood. i do not want to grow up. i do not want to sort the bills out and go out for groceries. it’s being done here. all i have to do is give my share and i can go about my business. i do not want to take full responsibility for being an adult yet. but on the expense of living with you. the only thing that would make this perfect would be if i had my own room. i miss having my own room. i miss having time for myself. i miss sitting in the quiet. in my own quiet. i miss being in my own space. maybe that is why i like my body clock so much. my schedule of sleeping when you are awake and completely awake when you are asleep. i actually have time with myself. in the quiet. i do not know what i feel. 

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

dec 29 2022 7:58 AM 

one of the things i’ve been thinking about and just recently discovered about myself is my mind. and how incredible it truly is. and i don’t give it much credit for anything. 

i’ve been on this constant battle trying to prove how smart i am because i never really believed it. growing up with a mother who never believed in you really leaves a mark that lasts. 

she always perceived me as stupid. i felt it whenever she’d put me on the spot in front of her friends who had a question for me. i’d look over at her and it was as if she was waiting for me to mess up. waiting for me to say something stupid. talking about me to her friends like i was a pet. or less than that. some kind of experiment. talking about me as if she wasn’t a part of me. anyway, the truth of it was that she suspected my dad paid the school to get my grades up so i’d pass the year i actually studied for good grades. i’m not sure how old i was or what grade i was in. but i knew that left a mark in me because i stopped trying academically since then. it just didn’t make sense to keep going when she wouldn’t believe me anyway. i gave into the narrative so much that i just never tapped into the interest of passing school. i never cared. in truth, i probably never cared. 

i was more interested in other things. i didn’t like achievements or tasks or goals to be presented for me to do. i wanted to come up with them myself. i don’t quite remember when but i’ve always known the world was so much bigger than school. i knew relationships, conversation, and passion were important. i was an artist. i thought and felt like one. i could not quite call myself that because at that age, being an artist meant carving the earth with a pen. and i didn’t know how to do that yet. i just knew i was much more interested in what made the world go round rather than getting a 95 on an exam. 

i was a horrible student. truly a nightmare to any teacher. but the good ones, the good teachers, they always had something to say to me. always wanted me to try. always wanted to know what was it about me that they could get out to sparkle. 

there were a couple good teachers. but only one really stuck with me. 

my junior year english teacher. she had me write essays. she had me write. she liked seeing what i had to say. this was before i actually tried writing. i just knew i liked it. i liked talking and explaining things that i knew. before i even knew it, she knew my brain had a lot in store. she wanted me to bring it out. and i had no clue what she was trying to do. not until now. 

i’m a storyteller now. i write songs and poetry. i know i captivate people with my words. i know it’s why people stay with me, too. 

anyway, that’s not really what i wanted to talk about. 

i wanted to say that everything i’ve ever learned, i picked up myself. i learned on my own. everything i know, i learned on my own accord. i used to always think i was stupid. i felt less than people who graduate. but it’s the graduates that are at awe when they speak to me. i’ve been told several things by these people. they are impressed. and most of the time, it’s when i am my most authentic self. 

and it’s validating. i feel like i could finally bury the hatchet. i do not need to prove my intelligence to anyone just because i don’t have a piece of paper that tells me i finished college. and that’s how i know i’ll make it.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

dec 27 2022 3:30 AM

i really hate feeling sorry for myself. but whenever i take a step back and look at what happened to me, that is all i feel. i have such a peculiar past and story. and as much as i want to make my pain my asset, i envy those who don't have to have it. who don't have it to deal with it. i am in constant battle with myself. i am constantly trying to recover. i want to be able to celebrate. but i am constantly rebuilding myself. and yes, i know, that is what life is about. but i do not like dealing with life. which is why most of the time, i want to die.

i think it's been 10 years since i've had depression. i was 15 when i realized i was afraid of the night. as if i knew what the night brought me. emphasized loneliness. hours with the moon only meant hours with the ugliness of myself. tapping into emotions i did not ask for. growing old overnight. i remember telling myself how i was only feeling that way because i was a teenager and that kind of thing happens to teenagers. i told myself it was a phase. so i did whatever i could with it. i became angsty. i lived like i was about to die. until i realized i was still going the same thing after my teen years. i was 22, in my dad's funeral. that familiar feeling setting in like an old friend. an uninvited guest was what i called it. and that's when i realized that this was never actually going to leave me.

it was only a couple of years ago that i accepted that i did not process things normally. i did not feel normally. i am still looking for a way to live with it. as much as i want to spend 100% of my time resenting its existence, i take half of my time figuring out how i could live with it. co-exist with it. but god. it's hard.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

dec 26 2022 8:19 PM

i am just at my worst right now. and yes, i am on my period. and i'm pretty sure i am more angry and more sad than i really am solely because of my period. but still.

anyway, this morning, i told tiger about my breakdown about not having any family during the holidays reach out to me at all. and how i realized how alone i felt in this peculiar situation of mine. and that i quite literally do not know anyone with the same situation. i thought cath was that for me but she quite honestly still does have family with her who she celebrates christmas with.

tiger left the whole day on the 25th to celebrate with his mom and his mom's family.

anyway, he ended up saying "if it makes you feel any better, you could come with me next year." and i just....exploded. in a way. really.

like so NOW YOU INVITE ME? the amount of times he has gone to a family reunion without me but comes home saying that people were asking for me. HE NEVER INVITES ME TO THESE THINGS. and now after 3 years after cheating on me after i tell him about how i feel about the holidays and not having family around, HE INVTES ME. HOW DO YOU THINK THAT MAKES ME FEEL? IT WAS A PITY INVITE OBVIOUSLY. he tells me people look for me as if i'm the one who refuses to go when he never fucking asks me in the first place.

and i just told him how that's just so awkward for me to even take right now because of everything that happened.

i've just really come to a conclusion that i never want to post about a boyfriend ever again. i never want to be that vulnerable again. i never want to be that available again.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

-

i know that if you stop putting my christmas stocking up, i do not have a home with you.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

December 26 2022 4:10 AM 

I’ve always known I was depressed. And that I do suffer with anxiety. Diagnosed or not. I’ve had it way too long for me to believe I have a stable way of processing things. I’ve been with a number of people, both romantic and platonic, for me to compare the way I process things with them. And I know I am unorthodox. I have long accepted that. Self-diagnosing isn’t all that bad. Especially when things are this obvious. I think there are things that need clinical diagnosing. When it gets so specific that you stop knowing what name to give it. Anxiety and depression go hand in hand. You usually have one when you have the other. And vice versa. But when it comes a more specific way of anxiety and depression in your system, that’s when you need a doctor. 

Anyway, I do not want to talk about that right now. Not about anxiety or depression. I’ve had that conversation countless of times. There’s nothing else I need to add to it. 

Lately, I’ve been juggling with the thoughts of having ADHD. I’ve always known the symptoms of having ADHD. But to read about it and hear it from people who have it, I relate a little too well with it. In a way I’m not proud of. 

I’ve always wondered why I never did well in school. I used to think I was stupid. Or lazy. I just never found it interesting enough to excel in. I wanted to excel in other things. I’ve always been into whatever I was into. Normal academic criteria has never impacted me. I called myself a trouble maker. Just so I had a label for it. But now with this knowledge of ADHD, I could finally admit that I could actually never concentrate well in class. No matter how hard I tried. And trust me, I did try. I could never understand whatever they were talking about. I could always tune them out. I almost had selective hearing. I was interested in other things. 

I could never truly call myself stupid. Especially now that I know so many things. And I know I do. I have too many interests. I read articles and books and look up things I fixate on. I look up everything about whatever I fixate on. I have so many things to talk about. I could talk about whatever I could talk about. I can’t be stupid or any of these would not stick. 

Gian told me that I have symptoms of ADHD. Similar symptoms. But diagnosing ADHD on grown women is a peculiar case and takes so much more time than diagnosing a man with ADHD. Off the bat, I know I can’t afford that. 

But lately, I’ve been thinking of something else. I’ve been thinking of autism. 

With my knowledge of autism now, I know that autism is a spectrum. And if everyone on earth could get clinically checked out, we’d all obviously have a piece of something. (Honestly, I don’t believe anyone is safe from a mental disorder. Therefore, it can’t be a disorder. They’re just labels on what kind of brain you have)

Sometimes I think I have autistic tendencies. These are traits I found I relate to: 

Being able to learn things in detail and remember information for long periods of time

Being strong visual and auditory learners

I remember everything in detail. Like they happened yesterday. And I get so easily upset when others don’t. Which I find strange because nobody remembers anything the way I do. I remember things in great detail. And they say that trauma makes you forget things in detail. But I remember every single thing that happened to me. I can replay them in my head. The things I forget are the things I forget on purpose. But I remember things so well. I remember learning the meaning of words as a child and I remember learning how to do things for the first time. I remember a lot of my firsts as a child. I don’t think anyone tries to remember them. I don’t try to remember them. But I do remember them. I remember them in first person. I could draw it out for you if I had the skill to draw. 

Being strong visual and auditory learners? Yes. Unconsciously. I find patterns every where. And I follow them. They are ingrained in my mind. How I remember things is through patterns. I don’t really know how to explain it. But that is how I tend to remember or memorize things. Through patters. Whether it be of color or of sound. I am really good at timing them too. I don’t know how. I just excel at that. 

Sometimes, I even know things through patterns and context clues that others don’t. I am surprised when they don’t because to me it seems obvious. I know things without knowing them. 

Also, I do not know how to handle my emotions. Everything is always at the extremes for me. No matter how hard I try to conceal them. It always feels like the worst is happening. Like I am going to explode. I am 25 and I still feel that way. I do not know how to keep my cool. I end up feeling so small at the height of it. 

These are just things I notice about myself. And I have no idea what it is. But I know my brain is wired differently. I just don’t know how. 

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

December 26 2022 1:44AM 

Another Christmas when I sit in the filth of my grudges and pain. I find myself awake at 5pm and alone in our room because Tiger went to go see his family from his mom’s side. Which only led me to thinking of my family. I got on my other Facebook and started stalking my family’s Facebook accounts. Feeling more and more bitter every second I scrolled. And just realized how much these people took away from me and how much they don’t care. I know I probably sound like such a brat again. But I can’t help it. I’ve been robbed of innocence and wholesomeness. I used to have big family Christmases. Presents and food and staying up until midnight and the cousins. I used to have 2 families to go to to celebrate the holidays. Now, I have none. No blood relative or legal relative who I could celebrate with. No presents either. Haven’t really received a gift in years really. And as much as I’d like to say that’s fine, it makes me sad. It doesn’t even matter what I get for Christmas, you know. But it’s the fact that I don’t have anyone in my life to want to give me presents because it’s the holidays. When I used to have so many. And I can’t really say it’s because I’m a grown adult. But I do not get presents. Everyone online had their own celebration with their families. Had their own complaints about going home for the holidays. The Christmas Spirit has left my life a long time ago. My life right now is just not meant to have the means to celebrate Christmas. And yes, I am jealous. I am envious of everyone who gets to expect presents during this time of year. Even on birthdays. I don’t have relatives reaching out to me to send me a greeting or anything like that. No relative to want to send me a couple of bucks for my birthday or the holidays. No relative or family to ask me how I am and how am I holding up. I went on my dad’s Facebook and saw that Tito Joey posted a picture of them just a couple of days ago. He hasn’t even tried to reach out to me. Not even to yaya to check on how I am. I wanted so badly to wreak havoc, you know. That triggered me. You talk about my dad but completely ignore my existence. And I did. I just posted a status on that Facebook saying “I’ll see you soon” and tagged my dad’s account. Only visible to the Lopez family. They don’t reach out to me at all. Don’t try to check up on me. And yes, nagpapapansin ako. 

This is the first time in a long time that I’m genuinely sad during the holidays. Maybe because I actually see what I’ve lost. And what this year has given me. The heartache I experienced this year. The betrayal. A lot of people hurting me, stoning me, until I no longer want to be cured. I do not want to heal. I want to remain cold and numb. I do not want to get better. I am afraid to build myself up again just to have someone tear me down. I’ve been disrespected long enough. 

I thought about everything with Tiger again. I thought about how much he mistreated me. How much he does not deserve any ounce of softness and gentleness from me. He hasn’t lost anything. I’m still here. I still live here. While I feel like I’ve been shred to pieces. While I feel like I’ve been shattered. Why, in anyway, should he gain anything from me? He fucking broke my trust. He broke his promises. He broke my heart. Stepped on me when I confronted. Gaslit me when I confronted. He does not deserve a place in my life at all. Yet, here we are. And I hate it. I hate how unfair this is all to me. I do not want to give him any ounce of myself. I am tired of being there for him. Any change he has made has not created an impact large enough to overshadow everything he did to hurt me. I have not forgotten. I cannot forget. And every night, before I fall asleep, I remember everything. I cannot forget. I am afraid of forgetting. I want to be indifferent towards him. I am so fucking angry. 

And I hate that every time I talk about him, I’m being told that I might give in and forgive him or that I probably am assuming the worst of him but they don’t even try hearing ME OUT. The ONLY reason why I even come up to them telling them about it in the first place is because I AM DONE. I never go to people with my problems when they are unresolved. I always try to solve them myself. But if I can’t, that’s when I start talking to other people about it. I never talk to people to get advice on trying to fix it. I TALK TO THEM TO LET IT OUT. 

I’m angry. I am hurt. I am hurt. I am hurt. I am angry. I am hurt. 

Sama ng loob lang nakukuha ko pag holidays.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

-

i don't want you to gauge how i feel about you. i want to be so open to interpretation that you make up a version of me so intimidating that you could never just come to approach me to clarify. so no matter how judgmental you become towards me, you'll never truly know unless you ask.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

-

i have never liked the way our conversations progressed. i do not like that you talk about the wonder of life and the beauty of people and use the same tongue to pick at their blemishes. i do not like that no matter how close we got, you never saw what i was standing on. picked my brain for branches of your ideas. found things that related to you only. but completely would forget me once i stopped being your person. i used to love that there were specific things i could talk to only you about. that you would understand where i was coming from. i was always so supportive of you. always so proud of you. that you have come a long way from shattering every week, clinging on to what you thought was love to finding peace in absence. i realized how comfortable i made it all sound for you. how comfortable i made it for you. enough for you to always come running to me. somewhere along the end, i found you selecting what parts of me you liked. maybe people really do that. but i did not want to be presented with the idea that you were doing that to me. it should not be a thought that passes through. i was starting to choose how i should approach you. and that whatever i was going to say had to have something you'd think is worth responding to. until i just did not want to anymore. i think i will be forever angry. at you, at me, at us. yesterday, i was angry at you. today, i am mad at myself. tomorrow, i could be angry at us. and then it repeats. i really just regret opening up so much for you to know exactly how and where to hurt me. and we could talk today. we could talk for hours. to the point of peace. but i will be angry at you tomorrow again. and that is a fire i am not looking to extinguish.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

november 8 2022 6:41 PM

i haven't written anything proper in my journal lately. because lately, i don't really like journalling. every time i come to a point where i am close to facing my own true feelings, i reel away instantly. i feel i am guarding myself. i feel i have been doing that lately. not giving myself enough space to become vulnerable. afraid to, actually. afraid but in desperate need to. maybe i'm subconsciously postponing it. postposing the scene to be vulnerable. because i do not want to be vulnerable in front of him. because i do not want to be vulnerable in front of everyone. too many people are watching. too many eyes are reading my thoughts. and any one of these people, any pair of these eyes could be the next person to hurt me. i don't like it when people hit me where it hurts. and they usually do right after i become vulnerable to them. right after i show them my weak spots. i do not want people to know where my weak spots are. i do not want to show them what makes me cry. i do not want to show them what i look like when i am bare and vulnerable. or they'll read right through me when they hurt me. i don't want anyone to know me. i don't want anyone to know me without me knowing anymore.

people will know what i want them know. as much as i want them to know. i regret ever opening up to such people. i opened up, gave my heart, because that is how much i loved them. these people, they meant the world to me. i don't think i meant anything to any of them. to them, i am fleeting. a fleck of dust on their shoulder. a season. when they consume my hours. my days. because i love them. i regret that i ever did. that i let myself love them.

i do not know what love is. maybe i thought i did. maybe i thought it was what i wanted. i do not want it anymore. i don't want to try anymore. i am tired of shattering for people. i am tired of building myself up just to be broken down again. i am just tired of picking up my own pieces. i am no one else's responsibility, i know. no one is obliged to pick my pieces up with me. but there shouldn't be anything to fix. there shouldn't be anything to pick up, to clean up. i shouldn't be so shattered in the first place. and i am tired of jumping in front of a bullet in the name of love when none of them would have done it for me. if they have, i wouldn't have to want to have such a hard heart.

[fleshbloodcomeundone]

aug 30 2022 3:43 PM

i feel like a fool. it's all i could really say. there's no better way of describing what i feel. i cannot be idle. i cannot sit still. or lie awake before i am diagnosed of slumber. in those gaps of the day, it is a pinch in my skin. a tug of my collar. "you are a fool" it says. in its exhausted, scratchy old voice. i am a fool.

i keep picturing myself in the last 2 years, in my lonesome. crying and whining like a sick dog waiting for my master to come home. thinking of how many times i've sat alone in this room just racking my brain trying to find a fix to this, only to come to this turn of events that he wasn't even trying to fix anything. everything he had promised were nothing. they were all a means to calm me down. to get me busy. to get me hoping while he sat back and enjoyed his life without me.

all he ever did these past couple of years was show me he liked life better without me. he'd forget about my existence. he liked it so much he made it come true. he did create a life without me. with characters who knew him without me. with hobbies i have never even reached for.

he was unbothered.

only remembered me when he'd realize the bed he slept on was meant for 2 people. and that i was already asleep so he didn't have to stay up to entertain me.

only remembered me when i'd yell out 'i'm sad.' he'd give me a day. tops. a day to watch whatever movie i wanted, eat whatever i wanted. like a child. a child that needed that one day.

only remembered me when i would get angry. because he had to. because it was a direct call at him. a direct action towards him. i am angry at you, i'd say. and he'd slouch, look at his shoes, and nod. not a single word from him. a promise to shut me up at the end of the day. but nothing of love.

before this, i was as brittle as an abused, paranoid, scarred, anxiety-ridden, depressed 22 year old could be. i had at least one more push in me to love. and live while loving. but i knew that if he would hurt me the same way, i would come out half of myself. believe me, i have tried to find loopholes to forgiveness. but he is just the same. they all see me the same.

it is so easy to blame myself. i want to blame myself. i know how to do that. but my mind is my own. his mind is his own. he had reasons that i cannot find in my own mind for his doing. which is why this drives me fucking insane. the questions are repetitive in my head. and i do not think that they will ever find their partnered answers.

he wouldn't have told me if i didn't find out. that's what hurts the most, i think.