#im gonna be fucking late for a therapy session someone kill me :

[a-dotrivenitupontop]

im literally gonna be home late because of a maths exam grrr

[wormbloggign]

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I never do this,” Mrs. Yamada said. She entered the office, a raincoat, boots and a messenger bag in her arms, her hair a touch damp, clearly flustered. “What a way to start us off. I’m so embarrassed.”

Therapy episode!!! long time coming, hopefully not too late

“About me. This could be a long session,” I said.

yeah its about 1.6 million words, sit down and get comfy

“How you seized the idea that it’s bureaucracy that would be holding me back,” she said.  “Or your facial expression when I said I want to approach this meeting with respect.  But there’s other points I think we should cover first.  We’ll get back to that, if you’re interested.”

Yamada has got this on lock-down, she knows what up

“But the sum total is worse.  It’s like, if you go back to the very fundamentals of right and wrong, you have to ask, ‘if most people acted the same way I’m acting right now, would society be better off?'”

wait thats the fundamentals of right and wrong? ive been doing all this incorrectly :(

Mrs Yamada is the GOAT, S tier

“When I was new at being a villain I took on established heroes and robbed a bank, walking away with a small fortune.”

please pick that up, her bank heist very much wasn't her first outing, her first outing was as a hero, where she took down Lung.

fuck, wait. that incident doesnt credit her because of armstraders interference. dang.

yea lets drop the supervillain in a middle-school, no problem :)

(funniest possible situation, good job Mrs Yamada)

great save, you just know the kids'd try something

“No, let’s be fair,” I said. “Being a villain’s an option.”

i like this approach, she's giving them a question to mull over, 'do i want to be a good guy or a bad guy?' getting that question, especially when you're a kid is usually going to result in them wanting to be a good guy, because good guys do good things. the question is flawed, asserting a choice where there isnt always one, but in the hypothetical, they very much do have a choice, and that will lead them into deciding better actions in the long term.

good shit

“Oh shit,” Ned said, “You conned us into playing dungeons and dragons!”

it's a thought experiment all the way down babeyyyy

SHITS FUCJKED

im gonna cry im gonna piss im gonna kill someone

[stinkgh]

al-anon is the only social activity i have at the moment, aside from work & a volunteer project but theyre not all that “social” compared to al-anon. i listen to them talk & it makes me realize how much of a wet mop I am. i dont do shit except lay in bed all day. no fucking hobbies, no interests, cant do anything that holds my attention for more than a few seconds before ive lost interest & ready to quit. id much rather be in beeeeeedddddd like holy fuck who am i though?? im so withdrawn i dont even remember who i am and its been a legit thing lately. i cant do anything without wanting to run back home & get in bed. god it sucks so fucking much. i feel like such a blank slate. I feel like this is because of how i was raised, because my mother squashed all my hobbies anyfuckingway so why even bother. and when i say squashed, i mean she fucking killed them dead murdered in cold fucking blood. she took every bit of individuality I had and crushed it with her evil fucking rat claws. i liked anime and cartoons, she forbade them. i liked to read harry potter, she called it devil worship and then burned my books. i liked video games, she smashed my gamecube with a hammer and burned my gameboy & all my games. burned my yugioh cards. insulted my taste in music by calling it devils music bc she couldnt understand the lyrics. i couldnt wear the things i liked, i couldnt even TALK WITHOUT HER RIDICULING MY FUCKING ACCENT. HOW FUCKING CONTROLLING DO YOU HAVE TO BE. she fucking squashed ANY AND EVERY BIT OF INDIVIDUALITY I FUCKING HAD. IS IT ANY WONDER IM A WET FUCKING MOP?!?! they all talk about activities like apple picking and shit and im just like… cant relate. thats too scary for me i cant handle it. i wouldnt enjoy it & probably couldnt wait for it to end so I could go home. in fact why even bother, just save the trouble and stay home. i literally have no interest if no one else is there. why do anything alone. god who am I?? have i always been like this?? i dont think i have. at one point i had lots of hobbies. i liked to read. and draw. i really loved to draw. i liked to do jigsaw puzzles. and music. but then i liked to do schoolwork. and i liked school. and i liked all these things because they were distractions from an alcoholic abusive mother. sometimes i feel like thats the only reason i ever did those things, and did so well in school, because my motivation was to escape home & i found solace in these things. now that i dont have such an evil presence looming over me 24/7, i have no need to “escape” (lets not mention the 4 years of literal daydreaming, no no thats a different kind of escape) and it takes a lot of effort to do these things for enjoyment rather than escapism. i have nothing to escape here.

something for me to research i think. how to trick yourself to enjoy healthy coping mechanisms lmao. honestly this is one of the reasons i think i need to be medicated. depression, but i cant not mention the impending doom known as abandonment fears haha bitch you thought! i dont want to meet new people and get attached! not now not ever again! so i say. i know this is a hinderance to the progress im seeking, but honestly it just makes me mad. i hate this. i hate that im so fucking broken. i literally dont know what to do when it comes to this shit. i dont know how to properly express myself face to face without panicking. its like that option doesnt even exist! IT NEVER HAS. Ive never been able to do that without getting beat or told i was being disrespectful. its better to shut the fuck up than to speak up because when i speak she fucking hits me. i grew up with that!! and now i dont know how to speak up to strangers who arent my mom and probably wont beat me for speaking my mind, but I dont know that lol my body certainly doesnt. i dont know how to feel comfortable with strangers without feeling ridiculed or shamed its just how im fucking programmed. i literally do not. know. how. to. do. this. please fucking help me. then why i TRY to communicate it comes out angry, agressive, and triggering bc i literally have NEVER had success with this on a 1-to-1 setting. it has ALWAYS ended with me getting squashed or me doing the squashing. jesus fucking christ what the fuuuuck this shit is so fucking frustrating and definitely one of those things i wish i could just *poof* make it better. writing this out makes me realize, its one of those things im gonna have to work really hard to improve. this sucks. this sucks so much.

gonna mention this next session, god i wish i didnt have realizations directly AFTER therapy bc now i gotta wait 2 whole weeks to see what he thinks & im probably gonna find some info on it before then bc thats what i do. there’s a book i saw floating around here on body triggers, im thinking of getting it. also im kinda disappointed, i thought he was gonna teach me things today but it was just like a normal session where i talked the entire time and he barely said much at all. when are you gonna teach me things pls im running on empty fumes here ;-;

adding in post: so in the tags I talk about nurturing my relationship with god and I mentioned that I don’t like saying “you’re suffering for a reason” because thats an awful thing to say to someone who has been abused and epsecially when the abuse is still fresh, its like youre fucking justifying the pain and suffering inflicted on you and that shit is fucking triggering as fuck. but then i forgot tumblr algorithms push quotated tags to the front of the list so when I posted this and had “you’re suffering for a reason” in quotation marks, it was the first tag to show up.

I see you bitch.

[fukdaisies]

as my boyfriend dreams his day away, here I am forever stuck in my own head trying to grasp onto the few threads of sanity I have left. I don’t think I've hit this bad of a rough patch before in my life, it feels almost unbearable to even feel this way. nothing is going right, nothing is falling into place the way it should be. I mean I've been working hard so where are my results? where's my list of accomplishments bc all I'm seeing lately is everything I've been doing wrong with my life. the consequences of spending money I never had, holding every single emotion I've felt in the past 3 months, no therapy sessions, no smoking to escape, no relief from my fucking life. it’s hard to breathe, its hard for me to muster up the courage to say “Hey I need some fucking help over here” ... I still haven't found my own voice, I still haven't been able to go to someone with something that is seriously bothering me and say “pls help me with this baggage bc I swear if I don't get any help something bad is gonna happen” I’m struggling to make ends meet, Im struggling with my struggles for fucks sake. 

where do I go from here? where am I going to go next? I still haven't figured it out and its fucking killing me slowly... I don't know what to do

[teanaoverton]

still swimming.

i thought the first year of law school was suppose to be the toughest.  that was not the case for me. 

this past semester, the first of my 2L year was the most trying experience of my life. and sheesh, i have dealt with a lot of experiences. 

before we go any further, i think its important to tell you a little about myself and warn you of some contents that this post will contain. 

i am brutally honest. i dont believe in sugar coating the truth, and so i wont.  this post may be triggering to anyone who has every experienced sexual assault and/or sexual harassment. this post is my truth. and if you havent noticed by now, i do not like capital letters or formal punctuation. and i also cant spell. 

anyway, back to the story. 

the beginning of the semester started off rocky. i worked for my school and assisted with many task including orientation for the first year students and the title ix policy updates (thanks betsy *eyeroll*). 

unfortunately, i had to use that title ix policy. 

at the end of july, my key card to get in and out of my school’s parking deck was not working properly. i expressed my concern to a security officer. instead of walking to the gate, he walked with me to the parking deck and followed me to my car. we were the only two in the parking deck. 

while at my car, he asked me on a date. i was not interested in the slightest. but hey, im a girl all alone in the parking deck with a security guard. i had just heard about a woman getting killed for rejecting a man. and i sure tf have no lived enough to die. so i told him that school was starting soon and i did not have time. smooth escape i thought. and i also thought that would be it, i was wrong. 

the next week, i left the second floor (where i worked) to go downstairs and get a snack from the vending machines. he saw me and ran to try and pay for my snack, thoughtful gesture, but i refused as i did not want to lead him on. he then followed me to the elevators and handed me a note with his number on it. 

i had to cross paths with him to get to work, and he would make comments to me. once in particular troubled me.“you dont work on wednesdays, we could go out on a wednesday.” and that is when a red flag went off for me. 

why do you know my work schedule? ive already said i wasnt interest, why are you still actively pursing me? so i told my friend/co-worker about the interactions and asked her to walk me to my car.

while working late one evening, he came to the suite and started talking and staring. it was after hours and he was no longer on the clock. the other security officer on duty was probably home with his feet kicked up by this hour. instead of doing the same... he came to “see what was going on.” being aware of the situation and that i was uncomfortable, my friend engaged in the conversation so i didnt have to. bless her. 

during orientation, we had leftover food. my boss at the time asked me to take some to the security officers. my friend and i locked eyes knowing i sure tf was not about to lead this man on by any means. so, that is when i told my boss at the time that i was good off doing that. if you know who my boss was, you know she will get the truth out of you. 

one thing lead to another and boom, the incidents were reported to HR. who i was required to meet with. during the first week of classes, i met both HR and my boss to reassure them that i was not looking to get a black man fired, i just wanted to be left alone. 

time went by, nothing happened. i still was uncomfortable passing the security desk. i would have friends walk with me to the car so i wouldnt be alone bc guess who did rounds in the parking deck, yeah. you guessed it, him. 

unfortunately, my request was not fulfilled. he did not leave me alone. i was required to do a tabling event for work. guess where that tabling event was? right across from the security desk. gr8!!! he looked at me and loudly started saying "i shouldn't have to come to work and be uncomfortable.” he said this several times, causing others in the area to look and see what was going on. 

again, the tabling event was for work (different job btw). i was sitting next to my boss who was unaware of the previous interactions. she too asked “why is he screaming like that?” 

i sat there in shock. in silence. and on the clock, so i couldnt leave. 

why. should. he. have. to. come. to. work. and. feel. uncomfortable.

that was it, my breaking point. i felt unsafe. i expressed my concerns to the appropriate parties. eventually time went on and he was transferred. 

shortly after, repressed memories of my childhood rape surfaced during a therapy session. along with many thoughts: was i over exaggerating? did i lead him on in anyway? could i have done more to let him know i wasnt interested before reporting the incidents? was this my fault? 

guilt. 

i lost track of what was happening in real life because i was so distracted by the thoughts in my head. but as soon as i gained back some control, real life hit me again. my legal writing assignment had been posted. and guess what the topic was? sexual harassment in the work place. 

you mean to tell me, i have to do research, write a brief, and have an oral argument about sexual harassment? shit, someone call my therapist. 

i wrote some shit on some paper. and that was that.  what was happening in my classes? no clue.  what was happening in my life? no clue.  what was going on in the world? no clue. 

i got lost again. 

i just wanted to float and let the current carry me for awhile. i wanted to watch the clouds chase each other into different corners of the sky like freed kites who never worry about the meaning of away. i wanted to float. ive been swimming so long. 

but my thoughts eventually had an off switch and i was good again. then guess what? 

kavanaugh. 

here we fucking go again. 

the student body president signed an aba petition to conduct an impartial hearing on kav. and for some reason, some students were pissed. so they took it upon themselves to write a petition to have the sba president remove his name from the aba petition and issue an apology. 

i need you to pay very close attention for this part. 

i sat in class triggered. surrounded by people signing this petition while tears poured down my face. how fucking disgusting are you people. 

now the only reason i know what the petition actual was is because i am in sba. otherwise, i would have no clue it ever existed. want to know why? because the students who wrote the petition never asked me to sign it. trust me, i am not offended. in fact, im honored that they knew better than to bring some bullshit like that to me. but what was upsetting, when another student asked what was going on (why everyone was gathered looking at the petition), the authors of it said  “we’re just looking at some stuff about aba accreditation.” 

baby, if you gonna talk about it. be about it. smh. 

the petition surfaced. and the names on it, wow. people i looked up to. people i considered role models. women who are allegedly advocates for women. women in general. even a few self-proclaimed feminist.

wow. the names. 

so many people who have reached out to me when i told my story about being raped as a child. so many people i believed would be there for me if i asked for help dealing with the recent sexual harassment. so many frauds. 

their names, they were on it. big and bold.  

i didnt want to float anymore. i wanted to drown. 

i was suffering. isolating myself from everyone. i did the absolute bare minimum. i distanced myself from my family, my friends, from everyone around me. 

i didnt read for any of my classes.  i stopped caring.  i had thoughts about dropping out of school.  i still have the withdrawal email in my draft. 

i want to give someone credit for helping me through this, but i cant. this ocean, its so big. but hell, i havent drowned yet. 

meanwhile, im still swimming.

[tumblunni]

Oh god this article is so long and just keeps getting scarier what the fuck They RELEASED THE SECOND ATTEMPTED MURDERER WHO WASNT SCHIZOPHRENIC?? We like.. don’t even have any details on her cos she only got three years and is long gone?? SHE LITERALLY GOT RELEASED ON THE INSANITY DEFENSE DESPITE HAVING NO MENTAL ILLNESS The court painted the schizophrenic girl as the ringleader because of her schizophrenia and gave the neurotypical girl an ‘insane by proxy’ not guilty verdict cos oooo she must have just been manupulated by the scary mentally ill girl who THE COURT DECIDED WAS NOT MENTALLY ILL, WHILE RELEASING SOMEONE ELSE ON THE GROUNDS THAT SHE WAS MANIPULATED BY A MENTALLY ILL GIRL. How does the second verdict not void the first one??? And then she just got.. REPEATEDLY diagnosed with schizophrenia by SO MANY people and just kept getting sent to worse and worse adult prisons and denied parole??? she almost got raped by her roommate and she wasnt even coherant enough to explain what was happening to her parents, like fuck it was SO CLOSE! and the rapist also got off scot free and also got released because this girl who WASNT ABLE TO READ OR WRITE OR RECOGNISE HER PARENTS’S FACES ANYMORE was deemed to be capable of making up a complex story about sexual acts that she wouldnt have been able to understand even if she was a normal kid of that age... oh fucking GOD... and on top of everything else they wouldnt let her have her GLASSES in prison?? this girl who was hallucinating got treatment that limited her vision?? HOW THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO.. GOD.. CHRIST... NO WONDER SHE TRIED TO KILL HERSELF! and oh goddddd it says that she got to see a psychologist once FINALLY after all these years for just ONE WEEKEND before the courts dragged her back out of there and locked her up in the same prison she finally got medication and it says that in her one therapy session they explained to her what she did and she was finally able to understand it and she hated herself and then she was thrown back into her hallucinations with no help ever again fuck fuck fuck FUCK

oh fucking god thank you oh fuck it does end with saying she’s in a hospital now oh fuck oh god i was expecting this to end on just that note and for me to scream eternally at how the artcle has no information on how to donate to this family dear GOD she’s at a hospital oh fucking god but the trauma of all those years has still left her shattered and her progress is slow, apparantly :( god i wish i heard about this earlier and i could have donated to the family oh god imagine if she’d been able to get this treatment earlier oh god oh god and her mother is finally able to see her oh fuck thank god fuck it talks about her mother rushing against the traffic to not even be one minute late, always arriving early and having to sit shakily in the waiting room and then how neither of them even know what to say during these half-hour visits but the kid still freaks out so much seeing the clock tick down and just wants to sit there with her mum and hold hands in silence forever she just wants to get in the car and drive home and sleep in her own bed for the first time in so many years fuckkkkkkkk

“I can’t rescue who I want to rescue,” she acknowledged quietly. “So a kitten will have to do for now.” FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKK fuckkkk she saw a starving feral kitten on the drive to visit her daughter and ran around trying to find it again and take it to the vet just so she’d have one happy thing to tell her daughter FUCKKKKING HELLLLL

“ As we spoke that day, Angie spotted the kitten she’d come to save and cornered it. But then an adult cat emerged from the shadows and stepped protectively between them. The relationship between the two felines was clear. So, Angie returned to her car empty-handed. Sick or not, she thought, the kitten belonged with its mother. “ fuck you didnt have to end this article on some cheesy note like that, why the fuck are you doing this to me did that even actually happen or are you just trying to use journalistic metaphors to desperately make people sympathise with this poor child? cos seriously WHAT THE FUCK it is so disgusting that nobody has been giving her the barest shred of human rights, do we really have to resort to fucking kitten stories because nobody actually cares about a severely mentally ill child who has barely seen sunlight for three years due to a FUCKING LAW THAT TREATS TEN YEAR OLDS AS ADULTS

god i think im gonna puke why did i read this why is there no way i can help, oh goddd all the news every day is just more human rights atrocities i cant help with and i’m so scared im gonna either become desensitized or turn it all into wah wah what about me, feel sad for ME, wah wah i fucking feel like killing myself because i watched the news FUCKING. SHUT. UP. HEAD. thats not gonna solve anything thats not gonna make anything better oh goddd im really fucking lightheaded goddd why did i read this but i’d be a monster if i stuck my head in the sand and ignored horrible news cos i care more about myself than other people But GAHHH why cant I HELP?? i cant help either way??? where the fuck is the justice aaaarrgh all i can do is cry about these people so i feel like i have to do it, even if it doesnt help, even if it just makes me want to die god can i like.. rebalance the amount of sympathy in the world. can i somehow make the people who actually can help actually help by weeping all over my keyboard in a terrible fucking january fuck what the fuck goodness do i give back to the world, im just sitting here taking and taking and sponging off mental health government and making the world worse and FUCK how the fuck can i even say that while i’m crying ABOUT mentally ill people deserving treatment?? bunni’s shit brain: no u are the only one who doesnt deserve it in the world, somehow fuck i ‘m gonna go try and calm down fuckkkk so umm yeah warning dont read that article while you’re in a vunerable mental state but its really important to read cos like.. all i can do at least is be aware of the atrocities in the world and keep my eyes open for someday somehow where i can help.. i guess... god i think my life would actually be worth something if i could help someone else god i just want to die fuck fuck fuckkkk...

[confessionsofayoungblackhoe]

Honestly, I feel broken.

After my latest experience, I just need to write. It’s therapeutic. I have a lot of flaws and being a narcissist with questionable self esteem is a big part of it. This last  situationship kind of broke me, I reached the tipping point, and I need to find healthier outlets than drinking and being a tinder troll. I talk about myself a fucking lot and it’s annoying to those around me, so writing it all don for the entertainment of strangers around me seems like a happy medium, no?

Let me start with a little background. I used to be fat, real fat, I still am, but not as fat. At my highest weight I was around 270 pounds? I’m not completely sure, it was a blur of depression and isolation. I honestly don’t know who I was at the time. I pushed everyone away and eating every emotion i repressed. I’m not sure what exactly caused everything but I definitely had a psychological break and ended up seeing a psychologist for months, in secret. I didn’t tell anyone until I was done with therapy, and it helped me immensely. I truly got better. So many (mainly black) people are ashamed to seek therapy but I can truly say it helped me out at an incredibly difficult time in my life and I don’t know who or where I would be without those precious sessions. It was hard, no doubt. I had to deal with a lot of shit and talk about a lot of shit that I had never told anyone. It didn’t “fix” me, but it brought a lot of demons to the surface, and set me on this (lifelong?) journey to battle them. I often (usually) fail, but it’s been an insane ride along the way.

Basically, I just have an addictive/obsessive personality. I fixate. I need something to be obsessed with at any given moment to function, it’s literally my life energy. When I don’t have that, nothing else really makes sense to me. I went on to start eating healthier, going out more, exercising more. Becoming more social than I had ever been, this led to becoming a party girl, which I don’t really think is a bad thing honestly.

 I was tired of feeling like that fat sack of shit that no one wanted to be around. This approach also extended to boys, I was in my second year of university (was 18/19 at the time, graduated HS early), and still a virgin. Let me say there is NOTHING wrong with being a virgin and waiting!! The reason I was, was because I purposely pushed men away thinking. “i’m saving them the trouble of having to reject me”. I felt so crappy about myself that I was 100% that I would be rejected in any and all romantic instances. So i would stonewall everyone thinking “they are just being nice, i’m going to push them away so that they don’t have to deal with knowing someone disgusting as me thinks I have any chance with them”. It was really sick. 

So even with partying, I kept my distance from boys. The few times I tried ended up blowing up in my face. The thing I feared the most. My friends are beautiful, exceptional human beings. And they are all skinnier than me. Whenever going out, people would gravitate towards them, and I was always the only one not pulling anyone. Like how ridiculous is it to measure self worth by whether some crusty ass boy tries to grab your ass at the club or not. Well, I always did that anyway. I would act like I was having a great time and then go home and cry because no one tried to make out with me at the club. It was absolute madness, that descended into chaos. 

So, I had worked on my social skills and was good at acting emotionally detached when it killed me inside, but my weight was (and still is) always at the forefront of my mind. I had always been fat, ever since I was a baby, but i’m cute and nice so I got by, but when I gained the extra weight, it was too much. It was harder to get by, by getting by and in late 2014 I really just snapped and developed a full blown eating disorder and was addicted to laxatives. In my mind, every problem would suddenly be fixed if i just lost some goddamn weight. I would put myself on weird ass diets like only eating 400grams of chocolate per day. The caloric intake didn’t matter, what mattered was the weight. I could eat 400 grams of chocolate, drink 4L of water, and pop 7 laxatives (when the recommended dose was 2 at max). Wake up at 3am, shit everything out and wake up 500 grams lighter. It was wild as shit but it worked which encouraged me to keep going. Because the one thing I wanted was to lose weight, and I was doing just that. I was torturing my body and my soul to be frank.

By summer 2015, it got even worse, and I was starving myself for long periods of time. Like complete starvation. I would drink only water for days at a time and if i ate even a morsel of food i would cry and pop more laxatives and punish myself. My mom noticed what was going on. She was so upset, she knew I was destroying myself and all I did was lie to her and break her heart and make her worry. At the height of it, I drank only water for 10 days and  blacked out at work. In my mind, it was almost like a spirit quest. It wasn’t just about the weight anymore. I wanted to prove everyone, including myself wrong. By depriving myself of food, I was denying myself a basic human need and proving that I was above..humanity? 

By showing myself I could survive on willpower alone I was assuring myself that anything I wanted was possible. All the barriers and self defense mechanisms I put up so I didn’t have to face rejection...they didn’t matter, It’s so hard to explain it now but anyone who has fasted knows. It gives you a euphoria that is comparable to crack. But when all was said and done, after all the blackouts, the breakdowns, the meltdowns, the outbursts...I one day looked in the mirror and realized. I literally lost 90 fucking pounds in less than a year. I’m in no way encouraging eating disorders before people try and put words in my mouth, because I honestly am not recovered. I still starve myself, it’s a safe haven for me. But I just control myself better now. I don’t cry after eating a piece of bread, I eat like a normal person and i’m not a freak about it anymore. I’m trying to cultivate a healthy relationship with food but I still have laxatives on hand because I always fuck up. I always relapse, but it’s getting better. 

It was just sort of like realizing, I made it...I accomplished what I wanted. I lost weight, drastically. I returned to school for the fall semester and people’s eyes bugged out. They couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it. I think that’s what keeps me trapped in this cycle. At my lowest weight I was around 180 pounds and i’m 5′8. So i’m not skinny obviously, but I was a hell of a lot better. People’s reactions are so addicting. I bought new clothes, started going out even MORE, and tbh...I became a hoe and developed a plethora of fucking issues. I had issues before, but new levels new devil. It’s a strange place to be in. I wont lie, i’m pretty. I’m really fucking pretty. I know im a narcissist. I admire myself in the mirror, seeing my face come out from all the fat, and knowing even more can be lost. My self esteem skyrocketed, but falls down into the gutter, pretty often because it was in the trash for 20 goddamn years and i relapse every season. 

So after this hell of a ride, I really just started to enjoy life, and enjoy men. I finally tasted the forbidden fruit and lord, I wasn’t gonna give it up, not after all I had been through. I was finally considered attractive, as dumb and it is. I’m not the hottest girl out there, but I hold my own. I enjoy drinking, I enjoy partying, I enjoy making friends, and I am extremely social. I just have a lot of fucking issues and a lot of fucking stories, and i’m finally ready to talk about them, outside of a therapists office.