#qwertishy

[qwertishy]

Story telling a traumatic experience that happened nearly 30 years ago, laughing, crying... trying to figure out if I'm crying bc I'm laughing so hard, or because I'm still feeling the trauma of it. Then again, am I laughing because it is genuinely funny in the satirical sense, retrospectively speaking... or because that's how I mellow the blow?

🥴

[spoolesofthread]

qwertishy replied to your post: ztevenn said:waveswaves back to y...

this confused the hell out of me. I completely misunderstood the part of speech intended here.

oh my god, this made me laugh so much. bless your poor heart.

[mv360s]

I love you

[qwertishy]

I could lose anyone in the world, Lord knows I have.. but I can't lose you. I've lost my best friend, my parents, my family, my home, and even my sanity. I've lost classmates and neighbors, playmates, and colleagues; but I can't lose you.

I thank God for all the blessings he has given me most of all, You; just the same as I have learned to thank God for all the challenges he gives to me.

I can't even THINK about losing you without realizing it would be the end of me. I have survived the deaths of nearly every person I have ever been close to, but you are my world. My air. My everything. You are the essence to my life. Without you, I most surely will die. I won't bear a second of this life without you. I will die of a broken heart before I have the opportunity to stop it myself. I have faith that God will do me that.

The day, the moment you were conceived, I leaned over into your father's ear and whispered of your budding existence finally coming to life. He laughed. Said I couldn't possibly know that. I knew. The following days and weeks that passed, I knew. My body changed and I knew. My best friend asked how I knew and I told her I just did. Eventually I took a test to appease the inquiring. Not to my surprise, your evidence showed.

As you grew, I felt you, although my doctor would say it was gas.. but I knew. We had a connection I will never forget. We knew each other inside and out. I knew exactly when and where and how you would kick and stretch and squirm.. every. Single. Time. It was never a surprise. You and I were one. We were always one.

I had dreams of you before you arrived. I knew who you were and what you looked like. And if I'm honest, you did not disappoint. You are exactly what I envisioned, everything I've ever wanted. You are truly my best friend, my whole world. My everything. I'd rather be with you in the worst conditions than with anyone else in the best. You make me whole. Complete. Myself.

I have known you my whole life just as you have known me yours.

When you were a baby, I'd stay up all hours of the night... just watching you. I cried when you were born, I had never been so happy. The moment I finally get to see you with my eyes. Hold you with my arms. We had our own secret language since before you arrived, and even though we don't use it as much anymore, I will always remember it was there.

I pray to God that he won't ever make me live a moment without you. My soul has been through much. But nothing could brace me for that. I would choose you over the world, no question, no hesitation. I want you and only you, forever.

[qwertishy]

My biggest problem appears to be my never ending search to be addicted to something, and then being addicted to it.

[qwertishy]

My whole childhood was filled with undiagnosed, untreated, unacknowledged conditions that amplified my perception of an already terrible situation or two. I look back on it now, in what others are calling some middle aged newfound wisdom, whatever that means... and I'm wondering, truly wondering, how much of it was real?

Growing up, I unknowingly suffered from borderline personality disorder, dissociation, hallucinations, ADD, and a crippling amount of depression and anxiety. Everything was fast paced and either the best day of my life or seemingly the last. I never knew what tomorrow would bring, let alone if I would even see it at all. Despite that, I wasn't scared of my own mortality, in fact, I reveled in it. I valued it. It was a constant reminder on my darker days that there was a way out, my only calming solace. My silver lining.

By the time I realized there was something wrong with me.. specifically, and not just the dangers I had been subjected to... my perception of reality was so twisted and distorted that I honestly couldn't tell reality from fantasy. I couldn't piece together what really happened and what didn't happen, who was real and who wasn't real. What words were said and what words only imagined.

Through the mess and confusion, I hurt a lot of people. I lost a lot of people. Some relationships ended because of it, and the worst part is... I will never know why. I will never know what I did. Yet, I do it again and again. How do I explain that whatever happened, whatever I did.. wasn't me? Does it matter? I've had some of the world's greatest people by my side, and somewhere along the lines I did something to fuck it all up and lost all of them forever.

My father died spring of last year. Initially, there were a lot of mixed feelings. I've been working on building a relationship with him for a long time. I've been working on healing and forgiveness. I've been working on it a lot. I wasn't done healing. I hadn't yet forgave. I feel like him leaving had robbed me of the goal I had been working so hard towards for so long. I was angry. Backtracking in all my progress and all my successes. Then, almost without warning, I forgive him. Something I could never do in life. Again, I was angry. Upset that I couldn't achieve this at a time we could both enjoy together.

I think about him everyday, now. Before, he was lucky if I thought of him more than once a season. Now I crave his company all the time, miss him every morning. Cry... every time. I have no photos of him, no adult memories, no anything. I feel constantly robbed each time I think of him. It feels like he's been gone forever and like it was yesterday all at the same time. I can't explain it. And with all this grief and confusion... I feel a new me emerging. A new sense of clarity I never had before. Suddenly I feel alone.

You see, my father knew he did me wrong as a child. He knew I was scared of him, scarred by him, haunted by him. He tried, he really tried to get me to forgive him. He did everything but acknowledge what he did, everything but apologize. I often wondered if the gift buying cleared his conscience. If he thought that he was buying my forgiveness, my affection, my love. In my adult life, he was kind and gentle, sweet and caring. All the things I had wanted as a child. But by then, my perception of reality was already set in stone. It kills me that I was not able to change that in time.

I pushed everyone away. Everyone was a threat or an enemy. And now, I'm alone. And it hurts, and I'm scared. I'm too old to be alone. I always hear young people griping on and on about "how old" they are, like it's some sort of psychological game... I've never truly felt old until this year. It's not a flattering emotion. I want to say something dramatic and played out like, "I've never been alone before" or something of the like, but I'm sure that's not true... I just can't emphasize enough how lonely I've been feeling since my latest losses.

I'm having a really hard time, lately.

[qwertishy]

I hated you my whole life. You destroyed me, my childhood, my innocence. You betrayed your trust in me. I put you on a pedestal, said you could do no wrong.. as you wronged me in the quiet of the night when nobody was looking. Day after day, year after year, you made me question all the wrong things. I spent years of my life too scared to leave you, while the damage grew more and more with each and every day, each and every night. Every time i looked at you, or you me.. i could feel your eyes peering at me, and like prey, i feared for my life each and every time. Such a short tempered man, what if I don't do what he wants, what if I don't sound the way he wants? Will it be more than just a hard fuck, will he grab my throat and threaten to kill me, or just grab my throat as he comes?

I remember the first day you told me you were sick. I stood there, emotionless, staring right through you. I felt nothing, not joy nor grief. I stood there, stiff as a board, and felt nothing. You reached over for a hug, for comfort. My skin crawled, and suddenly I no longer belonged in it. Again.

I remember when you told me how hard it was, how bad you were suffering; all the pain you were in. You told me how helpless and scared you felt. How you feared for your life. "Good" I remember thinking. I became branded as the cold hearted daughter that such a valiant, gracious man did not deserve, especially in such times. "Whatever grudge you're holding, its not worth it" "he's sick" "he's dying". I stood there as you let people think you were a good man, a kind father. A facade I allowed you revel and parade in. Weaker times. I waited patiently for you to become this man they said you were. I watched you gleam as they condemned me, as they praised you. Praised your valor, your honor, your bravery. You are a small, weak, pitiful little man. You never spoke up. I spoke up for you. You couldn't even deny it. Couldn't even admit it. Your pathetic pride and privilege. Of course no one believed me. What was I to them? A rebellious whore. A scandalous child, spreading lies and blasphemy for the attention nobody was giving me. How dare I be so selfish. How could these allegations possibly be true? Who would quietly suffer for 18 years and never say a word? Why tell us now? Why not then? I didn't expect them to understand, but I also didn't expect this. Banishment from a community I had no interest in. Rejection from the comfort I so desperately ached for. Understanding.. understanding? I knew that was out of the question.. yet I yearned for it anyways. Every cold shoulder I was met with was another piece of my soul being silently chipped away.

I remember screaming and hollering and crying like I was begging for my life as you dragged me down the hall to your bedroom. Why did it never get better? Why was I always just as scared? Just as terrified.. i remember early February morning, calling my best friend to tell him this was it, to tell him it was the last straw. Barely dressed, walking down an icy road, desperate to get away. Sick to my stomach, vomiting on what little green there was. Headlights. I needed this to be over. I stepped into the road. The car slowed, then came to a stop. I watched in silence as the doors opened. I was ready to spill my heart out and tell someone, anyone, the truth. I needed help, I needed help. Its 3, maybe 4 o'clock in the morning and all i can see is the silhouette of a man walking towards me. My face is stained with tears, I don't know how long I've been outside, or how cold it was. Tank top and boxer shorts. "Help", my brain tells my mouth to say, help. I try to say words, I try to say anything. Silence. Not even a stutter. He steps out from the blinding of the lights and my eyes adjust to see who stands before me, and before I can even register what im seeing, I hear this tremendous sound come out from nowhere. This bellowing as if from some sort of wounded animal. "Where was this sound coming from?" I thought. Me. There, standing before me at the wee hours of an early February morning was him. When my brain caught up to my body's reaction, I heard myself scream "no" as I ran down the street. I no longer cared to ask for help. I had a mission. I ran towards a busy road. I could hear a vehicle flying through, if I timed myself just right, I could make it. I know it was selfish, but I was cornered, out of options, out of hope. My pain outweighed my empathy for others. My only hope was that God could tell them it was okay, that they did me a blessing. I was so close, "I'm coming home" a voice said in my head. The van swerved last minute, then continued on its way. "NO!" I screamed, I cried, i begged. "God, no, don't take this from me!" I sobbed until I became inaudible. Then I laid there in the middle of a busy road. Hugging my knees. Not feeling a thing. He picks me up and puts me in his car. Drives me back to his house. I can't tell if he was talking to me or not. Everything felt like under water. ... he carries me to my room, to my bed. Lays me down. Kisses me on the cheek. Rubs his hands on me. Turns out the light.

That was the last time i saw him. I was 18. I ran away the next day, and never went back.

I have a child, now. He is turning 6 next month, and I love him more than anything in the world. He is my everything. The love and compassion I hold for him tells me that miracles are real. That there can be a rainbow. That.. I don't know. I love him so much, it.. I.. there are no words.

I reached out to him a couple years ago.. I found out that he is still kicking around. Still sick. Still dying. Still the pathetic man he has always been. I went to see him. He has aged terribly. He is dying. I go long stretches of time without seeing or even communicating with him. I wished for terrible things to happen to him my whole life. I replay memories of the day he told me he was sick over and over in my head. I am no longer scared of him. I have made my peace with my past. I have forgiven him, or so I tell myself. But that much, I do believe, despite how hard it is to believe.. even for me.

Today he reached out to me. Told me his doctors have told him to stop taking his medication. They're not working and his illness has taken over too much of his body. This will be the end of him. He is dying. Soon, he will be gone.

Then, the unthinkable happened. I cried. I cried my fucking eyes out. Bawled and hurt. Ached and throbbed. I've hated you my whole life, you don't get to make me hate this too. This bittersweetness is too big a pill for me to take. I thought forgiving you was the key to happiness. How dare you take this away from me. I deserve to be happy.. so why aren't I?

[qwertishy]

"I will celebrate the day I have known you longer than I have to wait to meet you."

-Famous last words that haunt me every time I think of you.

[qwertishy]

Anybody out there?

Just looking to talk, maybe vent a little.

Thanks.

[qwertishy]

Don't fucking think you're cute or witty and play shitty fucking word games with me. I'm in a constant state of stress balancing on the edge of my mother fucking sanity, don't fucking push me, I am already so close to jumping.

FUUUUUCK.

[qwertishy]

If its courage you want,

I'm not the one. I'm not brave enough to let you know, I'm not strong enough to say these words. I hide myself behind miles and convenient inconveniences, I stay blanketed where I know I am safe. I am not the one.

[qwertishy]

Feelings are dumb and I hate them,

Me

[qwertishy]

Sees bumper sticker "BI"

"Bitch inside"?

[qwertishy]

IM FUCKING SAD

WHERES MY GODDAMN ICECREAM CONE!?

[qwertishy]

I'm not all right,

But man, if I'm ever not all right. I'm all fucking right.

I don't write love stories, anymore. I barely sing lullabies. 💋

[qwertishy]

I need you

Ive been practicing putting my son to sleep in his own bed, and its slow progress, but progress nonetheless. Tonight, he wilfully hopped into his own bed instead of mine and prepared himself for sleep. Laid there in silence for maybe five or ten minutes, until...

Mom? Mom.

(Peering over in the darkness fom my own bed) Yes, darling?

I like follow you bed.

Whats that, honey?

I like follow.. you bed.

(He repeats this a few times over when i decide to catch him with his favorite line...) Why?

Be be because i have to.

You have to?

Yeah, i have to.

Why?

Cause, i need you.

You have to because you need me?

Yeh!

Joshua?

Yeah?

I love you.

I love ..YOU!

Goodnight.

Okay, goodnight mommy.