iminhellxxx

[iminhellxxx]

Response.

Like I said, I don’t check my messages anymore, I’m too depressed to reply to anyone, I’m sick, humanity is shit, I’m dealing with severe ptsd, ocd, and every other acronym in the book, and I’m currently just having trouble finding reason to live. And I can’t go back to the hospital because I’ve only recently just finished paying it all off, a crap ton of hospital bills so I can’t even afford to die again or to be this fucked up. And if you only wanted sext, it’s something I’m trying to avoid because the only fucking person that matters to me is gone and I don’t know if he’s coming back so now my happiness is gone and I have to feel like death until he decides to come back, that’s so fucked up, it’s no fucking way to live, I shouldn’t even be here anymore, they didn’t save me because I’ve already died on the inside, so what the fuck good is my shell if I’m so hollow? I feel helpless, like there’s no way out. Like there’s this fucking tent with fun house mirrors in my head, and there is no exit door. I’m trapped inside of the devil’s joke.

[iminhellxxx]

[iminhellxxx]

[iminhellxxx]

Life Update February 2019

So, I just wanna vent real quick because I’m going though kind of a lot right now, and everything is just overwhelming and stressing me out. You know that feeling when you want to cry so bad but you hold it in because you also just don’t want to cry and make everything worse. But anyways, this is what I initially made this account for, because I feel like I need a place to be all the things I feel I “can’t” be. Sometimes people follow you for your Alfred coffee posts, and sometimes they follow you for your depression posts, but usually people eventually leave when they find out that I have this other side, I’m like a million people in one, and I can be both people, so I don’t really know who’s real that’s why I don’t really respond to messages or anything. But anyways, this is just for me, I use Instagram as a diary and I’ve had friends unfollow me because I’d post crying pictures so I try to private a lot of stuff but in reality, I really don’t post things for likes, (not that people like my stuff anyways. People will literally send me messages telling me they like my posts in hopes of a possible nude in return, instead of actually “liking” my post and double tapping. It makes me sick.) So sometimes I archive things and just bring them out later because I’m not here for likes, I just like to document what’s going on, I have little “eras” on my page where I go back and I can remember when I felt what, or what I was feeling or “I was sick here” or “this was my manic depression era” and instagram just helps me because it has the dates for when I need to try to figure myself out. So I made this page, and then I actually got a literal handful or less of followers and I got scared to post stuff so I’m just going to go ahead now and vent myself an update on my life because I’m feeling lost at this point and I want to see if it gets better someday. So around December 2018, I put all of my band tees and black clothes in a bag and I watched makeup tutorials and started wearing girly things, and more pastel colors, and pink. (I have always been girly but also really dark and the complete opposite of girly, I just go by how I’m feeling. For example, in hs I liked pink and black, and then for a good four-ish year’s I absolutely HATED the color pink, and I liked blue, now I like baby pink. So it’s not like I’m not being myself, it’s just that I’m being another part of myself, and I usually go to the less toxic version of myself.) anyway, I think out of it my mom slightly likes me more, or hates me less. I think Lando likes it more because when we met I was very girly and would send him pics in Victoria’s Secret nighties and it was around the time I was transitioning into basically a twelve year old goth boy. Not that that’s not cute, it’s just I was kind of messy and careless and more like a dude and I think he’s treated me better since I put on a fucking dress. So I did this for a few reasons. One being him, because he’s said so much in the past that made me feel insecure about myself to the point where it gives me anxiety if I see him, because I want to be “perfect” to him, but all I see in my sick mind is self hate and when you love someone, I think they’re supposed to make you feel like you’re “perfect” to them so you stop caring about how you feel about what you see in the mirror, because beauty comes from the inside and especially people who suffer from extreme BDD like I do, you can never really trust the distorted reflections you see of yourself, so feeling loved and beautiful to him was what I was hoping would save me from that issue. And then my mom obviously, doesn’t like my music taste or the way I dress in black band tees and men’s clothes so I just wanted some peace for the winter being home. Also, I did it because I felt it’s what was best for me mentally. I felt like it was time to pretend I was happy and it worked for a while, everything was a little brighter, even if it was just my outfits, which sometimes honestly, if I’m not wearing black, like if I’m wearing pink I feel more like I’m playing dress up or like the Easter bunny, but I’m trying to be comfortable in colors, it’s something I’m working on. So that’s that. Also what’s really affecting my life right now are my health problems. So in the past, I was born premature with a heart murmur and then I was kept out of sunlight as a toddler so I was really pale. I was okay as a kid, and then I suffered childhood obesity because my parents were gamblers and my mom never made homemade meals, so it was always fast food, and they’d leave my brother and I home with large pizzas and burgers and fries and I would be so depressed that I would eat all of it, and then also eat some of my brother’s pizza on top of all my food and it makes me sick to just think about it. I had attempted to go vegetarian two times at that time. My mother completely disagreed with it and had anger management bipolar issues, so she would say things like “I’m going to fucking shove McChicken nuggets down your throat” and just mean, unsupportive things like that. So when I eventually did go vegetarian at 7, I felt more like I was “lucky” and grateful and should kiss the ground my parents walked on for “letting” me go vegetarian, that I didn’t ever want to make it a bother to them. So I wasn’t eating meat anymore, but I was still eating really bad because i didn’t want to feel like a burden, I wanted to show them that they wouldn’t regret it, so I was still eating the fast foods, processed foods, I just wasn’t eating the stuff with meat, so like at Taco Bell, I would get like everything off the menu that didn’t have meat. So when I turned 18 I stopped eating fast food, cut it out completely and started cooking for myself and dropped about 70 pounds in about 6 months, it happened so fast I remember, too fast, that it fucked with my head and depressed the shit out of me because it was like a rebirth. Getting to do things you couldn’t do before, wear things that wouldn’t fit before. My grandma all of a sudden “loved me” and I became the favorite, when she used to favor my brother. So I was healthy up until then, but then there was like a plateau. I wasn’t really losing anymore, In fact, if I wanted to enjoy things or reintroduce pastries back into my life, I would gain and my mother would call me names and “fat shame” me even though I was healthy now, no thanks to the way she raised me. What was in it for her this time is that she could “show me off” to her sickly competitive and wealthy family. So I think that’s when life gave birth to my eating disorder. This is where it all started. I wasn’t being healthy anymore, I was “skipping dinner to wake up thinner,” and c/s’ing my food and just restricting all together. I had gotten so good at my illness, I learned every trick in the book, and had my safe foods and to this day the pro ana site has been like my bible. If I’m unsure of a certain food or need advice, I go to that site and it’s always there. I do my homework on everything, grocery shopping is a long process because I’m always comparing labels and I’m just so fucked up in my head, but back then it was a high because my mom would call me “pretty” but it’s fucked up because I was actually dying and taking 20 laxative pills a day, and always saying I was “sick” which didn’t mean a cold or the flu, but it was just harder to explain the sickness in my head and the cramps I would actually put myself through to be “empty.” Now I can’t look at a laxative pill without wanting to throw up. I was excessively abusing laxatives, mixing them, having rituals, I would take 10 pills in the morning with a bottle of magnesium citrate right after like a “water back” and then I would do the same thing at night, every day. I was miserable but I was sickly and since I’m being honest here, I liked playing Russian roulette with my life, I liked wasting away because let’s face it, I wanted to die anyway. I was miserable and I remember being in a public restroom right now topless and bent over the toilet trying to vomit out the pills because I had excruciating bad cramps that day and a woman walked in on me somehow, I must’ve been too sick to lock the door and I remember just feeling so ashamed. So then the suicide attempt that’s too long of a story, but I was rushed to emergency, they saved my liver and threw me into the psych ward and I was smart about eating because I wanted to get out, so I would just hide my food and spread it out and wouldn’t open my lid all the way so they couldn’t see that I tossed the bread and just ate most of my vegan pattie. They are watching your every move, so I played perfect and sane because I wanted to get out in time for a Manson concert. Then I get out and Lando and I exchange numbers at the concert, we’d met July of that year, and it was October now, so that’s when I found my second rebirth. Leaving the psych ward and falling in love with someone who gave me life, at a time I was so dead inside that I tried to kill myself on the outside. Since then it’s been a roller coaster of emotions and eras with us, but ultimately he brings out the best and worst in me. I survived manic depression when I tried to leave him, but I also survived my eating disorder because I just wanted to be normal for him so he wouldn’t be embarrassed of me when we went to restaurants. So I’d say I’ve been pretty normal with eating since then, but now I am suffering from other things. Even though I don’t abusive laxatives to that extreme anymore, I have severe digestion issues now and hashimotos and I’ve been trying to deal with that but it’s been bringing back BDD because my body is always changing now and it’s hard to maintain my healthy self because I’m constantly bloated and it’s painful and i would have to extreme exercise just to bring down the bloat until the next day. I would literally hike Culver City stairs and then walk down La Cienega and then up to Sunset and make my way to Runyon canyon, hike that two ways, then walk to the train and take stairs and gym at night for an hour, like my feet are SO bad. It was exhausting and I was depressed. So now I’m just trying to beat the thyroid and digestion issues, it’s really hard, but I also feel like because I’m not happy right now, depression is slowly coming back. Orlando is taking some time to get his life back on track and by doing that, he disappeared from my life again. I know I should be using the time to get my own life back on track but instead, depression is coming back, I stopped wearing colors and bronzing the shit out of my face, so I’m just pale and dark and putting blue into my hair and I’m just feeling down again. But I feel more like me when I’m pale and dress like a “guy.” Not that I don’t love my designers but I also love my bands. I’m just a Barney’s and Hot Topic girl, there’s no in between. Anyways, I want to be good for him, but I’m also feeling very depressed again, very alone, very ptsd. I just feel like every time he leaves, the life in me leaves with him and my body my shell is just pale and lifeless and layered in black clothing because that’s what I feel safest in. But with him, I feel like I can potentially be my best self, I just kind of hoped that he would love me enough to help me stand again and everything else would fall into place again because he’d make me feel like a person, but without him I don’t feel like a person, I feel like an illness. I pretty feel like I cheated death. I took a bottle of pills and was rushed to emergency and they saved my body to breathe again, and they thought they saved my life, but In all reality, I was already dead inside, and it had been too late for too very long. So he put life into me and when he takes it, I have nothing again. I know it sounds fucked up, and it is, and I can’t change it. He’s also the last person I let so close to me before I developed a severe “social anxiety” which for me is just more like “I’ve been fucked with too many times so I just want to keep to myself and I put up walls sometimes even with the people I love, and I wish I could be a better friend but I’m just not emotionally okay right now.” So now it’s just me and my head and eating habits are coming back and I feel like, honestly for the first time in a very long time, I’ve been thinking about wanting to die again. And deep down, I know I really don’t want to, but inside I’m just so tired of this spinning wheel of deja vu, I feel like there’s just no way out once you fall in, you’re here forever. And trust me, I’ve tried to reply to messages and stuff, but people taught me that the world is trash, no one really cares about you. If I message back and say that I’m sick, they’ll disregard my thoughts, hobbies and opinions, to say perverted things and ask for nudes. So no, I don’t miss “chatting” with you because I actually liked you as a person, but you showed me that you don’t care about who I am as a person, you just miss sexting me. This applies to so many people, honestly, I just don’t open my messages anymore. So yeah, that’s almost all that’s going on right now, I’m dealing with serious health issues, BDD, depression, loneliness...and I know I do have my like one or two friends since hs who know I love them with all of my heart and want to be there for them but also don’t want to be there as a sick person so my mental illnesses isolate me. And I just want to be okay and get things done so that when Orlando comes back, if he comes back, we are both good and could move forward together because I’m hopelessly in love him and I know that I will never love anybody like that again, it’s just a gut feeling in my heart I know he’s the one for me. And I know a lot of sweet guys get mad at me for not giving them a chance to be in my life and stuff but it’s not my fault it’s just a feeling from the heart, because I think everyone is handsome and beautiful and I constantly think to myself “oh he’s cute, or she’s cute, I could see myself living with that person” but what sets Lando apart is that he’s the only man that I could never see myself living WITHOUT. And I’m just scared of losing him, because I wouldn’t have motivation to breathe without him in my life. He’s my happiness, he’s my life...my glow, my color, my everything. I miss him. I miss me.

[iminhellxxx]

[iminhellxxx]

[iminhellxxx]

Me Too

“I wish you were here, I just want a hug.” She said into the phone, catching her tears with her sleeve, her voice distorted by the plug of her nose. It’s nearly 2 am, it’s a cold October night. “Please come get me, I miss you. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come with him!” She wailed into the phone. She ended the call, broke into tears and sat on a corner curb, hugging her knees tightly....crying into them, uncontrollably. The roads were damp and empty, green and red street light reflections lit up the pavement. The only thing colder than than the temperature outside, was the inside of her chest, in which her heart broke and bled that night. Suddenly there was a rush of warmth...a loud, rugged purring noise; a car. She didn’t look up. She sensed it, but continued to bury her nose in her knees. But the pavement was so bright and green. If the streets were empty, why was this car hovering?? The light was green.....

Afraid and curious, she finally looked up to see a dark grey car idled at the light, with no driver...the door was open. She came out of her knees and there in the dark, was a man. He didn’t have a face...she never saw it. But her life was about change forever that night. He stepped forward.

🎵Trouble - Kristin Hersh

*8 Hours earlier*

Her phone lit up with a text message. “Where are you, I’m in an Uber.”

“Ugh, I told him to bring his car!!!”

Frustrated, she began to reply until she saw a familiar car that she loved so much. He was joking, he pulled over in his car and she ran excited to see him, she got in. “You lied!” She squealed. He had his infamous evil smile spread across his face. We were headed to Universal Studios for Halloween Horror Night. It supposed to be the best night ever.

It was not the best night ever.

He wouldn’t let her hold him by the arm in the mazes, even though she wasn’t afraid.

He got mad when she took a sip of his soda, and she had to get him another straw. Seriously.

He didn’t walk with her, or talk with her in line, but instead, read a boring article on his phone.

She felt like she went alone. Especially when everybody else was paired into cute couples, who did all the things he wouldn’t.

She gave up. But there was one point....before the clown tram. They were in line, and he was behind her. She didn’t look back to even try to make conversation. But where was the guy she’d known for 2 years? She closed her eyes. She wanted to feel him hug her from behind. SHE WANTED his body to press up against hers, she wanted him that night. Disappointed, she opened her eyes. And that was that.

AFTER MIDNIGHT

The sound of their seatbelts clicking broke their silence. “So where do you want me to drop you off?” She lives in Corona, he knew she didn’t have a ride home. She couldn’t get a hold of anyone for a ride. He drove her to Union Station. Broken-hearted, she closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep the whole way there. She felt the car stop, but kept her eyes closed. Maybe if he thought she’d fallen asleep, he wouldn’t have the heart to throw her out into the cold, and they could sleep in the car like they had in Corona one time, holding hands, lying down in the backseat. Where she traced hearts into his skin, and listened to his heartbeat, hoping that it was saying he was as happy as she was that night. “WE’RE HERE.” Startled by his voice, she opened her eyes. She opened the door. “I’m cold!” She cried. “Man, I gotta go to work in the morning, get out.” He whined. Disgusted, she got out of the car and didn’t even tell him bye. He drove off.

Her hands hands cradled her chest, where all the pieces were broken and falling. Union Station was closed. Cold, sad, and sleepy, she made her way to the bench and lied down for just a minute. “Hey you can’t be here, Union Station is closed.” A guard said. “Are you waiting for a ride?” “I.....I don’t know, I just got dumped here. Im trying to get a hold of someone. I’m just tired.” “You better stay here, you look tired girl. I like your outfit.” “Hey baby, come with me, do you wanna go get a coffee?!!” A homeless man passing shouted at me. “She’s fine right here, go on!” The guard shouted back. He continued to ask her a series of questions, and made flirtatious comments, and gestures. It was uncomfortable and strange. He went to talk with other securities. Then he kicked her out and told her she couldn’t wait there, and to leave.

The Fault in Our Stars- Troye Sivan

“I wish you were here, I just want a hug. Please come get me, I miss you. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come with him!” She cried into her phone, catching her tears with her sleeve. There was a man. He didn’t have a face...she never saw it. But her life was about change forever that night. He stepped forward.

*Screaming*

Pain.

Filth.

She couldn’t run away. It was like she was paralyzed...everything was numb. Everything except the broken heart.

She always imagined this moment...but much differently. She wanted HIM that night, but like always, he disappointed her. It took a STRANGER to put his dirty hands on her. Her eyes were closed the entire time, and tears poured out. “Are you okay? You just need to be fucked.” The man said. He stabbed her, like a sword...and she bled. Although it pained her, NOTHING was more painful than the way Orlando treated her that night. Than the way he treated her for THREE YEARS. How selfish he was to waste her love, to waste her heart. Her childhood was being taken, and even then, she cried for him. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HIM, SHE SAVED HERSELF FOR HIM! Then it was over. The scum bag got his fix for the night, but she lost her virginity forever.

Slow It Down - The Lumineers

*hysterical sobbing*

*Sink water turning on*

She looked up, into the mirror.

Disgust.

*angry sobbing*

*vomit*

Virgin blood everywhere.

PAIN.

SCREAMS.

Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1) Acoustic - AURORA

BROKEN. She walks back to Union Station to report it to the guards. She finds one security. She is relieved to see a man in uniform, and feels safe. He smiles at her. Breathless, she tells him her story, and he nods and pretends to care. “Daaaamn, She too sexy for you!” Another security comes out and walks with us. “Aye nigga she’s mine.” What is going on. She comes for help, and no one is listening. Not even the MEN WITH A BADGE.

*SCREAMS*

The first guard gets scared away. The second guard says “Dick is dick and pussy is pussy” about the rape. Then the security man from the beginning, the one that flirted and then told her to leave the bench, THE MAN RESPONSIBLE FOR HER WALKING TO THE NEXT BLOCK, comes and says that her dad is looking for me, and that she would be in trouble. Then he walked away. The other guard told her to follow him, she thought he was taking her to her dad. Instead, he led her inside Union Station, inside a wall....that must be put up after hours. He closed the door and tried to kiss her and whispered for sex. Then when she refused and attempted to walk away, he began to undo his belt and pushed her shoulders down and asked for “at least head.” In disbelief, she pushed him with his dick hanging out, and ran out to the front, and saw her Daddy in the car, and she got in, and the guard was talking nonsense crap about her, crap that she was too distraught to care about at the time.

Iridescent- Gavin Mikhail

How do you tell your daddy you just lost your virginity? How do you tell him you were raped? She held back tears during the car ride home. He didn’t speak to her. “Could he know? Does he know? Am I at fault? Why didn’t I run away? I want my virginity back!!!!”

Breathe Me - Sia

4 something AM

Home....but home didn’t even feel safe anymore. She wasn’t herself anymore. The guard had told her dad that she was drunk, and fighting with her boyfriend when she got off a white vehicle. Complete lies. But they made me feel like I was a whore, like they believed HIM, and not me. They think the worst of me, but they don’t know ANYTHING! How innocent I’ve been compared to the stories they believe. She was hurt that her dad believed him in the first place. She lost her courage to tell him, to speak up, to tell her story. Instead, she burdened herself with hatred towards humanity...and towards herself. She bled for a whole week.

“The men who penetrate me

Stab me like a sword then leave me wounded

Once a month I bleed,

But I do not die.”

-E. Kelly

It wasn’t until the next year, when she watched “13 Reasons Why” that she understood the “Fight, flight or freeze response” and forgave herself a little bit. She froze. She didn’t fight hard enough, she couldn’t run away. She was emotionally broken at how that night went with this guy she was in love with, this guy who was her best friend, the only person she opened up to. It wasn’t her fault she was raped. But she still feels guilty....she gets flashbacks every now and then. He took something from her that wasn’t his to take. Something that she cherished and saved, for the right guy. It’s gone. And she will never be the same. She was 24. She is me. #MeToo

[iminhellxxx]

CHEW SPIT ENTIRE CUPCAKE. SPIT EVERYTHING OUT

[iminhellxxx]

I may be drowning in my tragedies…

[iminhellxxx]

Where is My Mind???!?!

I’m not that kind of girl, but I've done a pretty good job of becoming her. Where did my standards go? The harder I try to blend in, the easier it is for me to drown. Sometimes I just let a moment consume me. Hands up, white flags waved; I let him touch me, I let THEM touch me. But I am numb to the touch, and I am losing appetite for love. None of them will ever be him.

[iminhellxxx]

[iminhellxxx]

[iminhellxxx]

[iminhellxxx]

Music helps tell a story, and it helps expressing the dream I had, so I offer these songs to be listened to while you read. They can be utilized to understand me in depths, as if you are stepping into my shoes. You have to keep your mind wide open.