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Not to bring up astrology but it’s real

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I heard you like bad girls. Well I’m bad

At everything

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i just want to introduce everyone to this niche genre of postcards

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Mother’s Day, and holidays in general, have always been hard for me since I left Dylan. They were hard before I left him, but I was too focused on surviving to really give myself space to grieve over the rotten fruits of my own choices and circumstances.

Now that I’m not in that active fight or flight situation, when holidays come around, I have nothing to do but think. I try and occupy myself; working all day, going out with friends, writing, but I can only do so much to escape how I’m feeling. I always want to text my family and wish them a good holiday (no matter what it is), but I always debate doing so, tossing it back and forth, because they never reciprocate. I think about maybe they don’t want to hear it from me, I think about how holidays used to before family and I, I think about what I’m missing out on, what we are all missing out on, and I freeze. I have little power over repairing the relationships between my family and myself, though I would like nothing more.

I can take solace in the fact that my children love me and see me for a human without judgment right now. I’m lucky to have been blessed with such an empathetic son and such amazing little girls. I wish everyday that I could be there for them more. The twins need me more than I wish they did, given the current state of my existence. I wish I could be there to help them emotionally regulate, I wish I was there to help give them the skills they need to develop early on. I know that they have so much potential to be better than I was, but it’s hard to prevent the same path when the people who helped put you on your path are the ones that are raising them. I’m not blaming my family for my downfalls by any means, but part of the reason I found myself in the situations I have found myself in, are because of how I was raised.

I do my best. I am hoping and trying for change. All I can do it keep chuggin’ and hope that everything falls into place how it should in due time.

I love you, mom. I wish that I could come over tonight and give you a gift and a hug, maybe share a drink, and talk. I love you, Grammy. I wish that you could forgive me, that I could come over sometime this week and give you a new orchid for your collection. I can’t tell you both how much I miss the connections that we had. You both were my best friends. I miss you both more than you probably know and more than i can describe.

Anyways, I’m having a good day at work, I got to see Ryker unsupervised at my place last night and had a great time, and even tho my life is not how I want it to be, it won’t be this way forever. I’ll be able to look back on this point in my life and remember all the things I’ve learned, all the progress I’ve made, and I’ll think about how lucky I always have been. Sometimes life is painful and gross and hard and it makes you want to tear your hair out from your skull, but it’s all part of the experience. Someone decided that I needed this and I’m not one to argue with whoever that was.

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I can’t sleep and I need to wake up early tomorrow. I wish I could bail. I want to bail on life in general right now. Wouldn’t it be so nice to just fucking GO? I don’t want to focus on anything anymore. I wish to be a leaf attached to some pretty green tree or a nice smooth stone in a riverbed. Anything but a person with wants and faults and too many options. I have never been good with having options; they just make me want to run away. I sometimes with that I never had kids. I don’t regret their existence, but I feel so guilty for bringing them into this piece of trash reality where very few good things happen and everyone is in survival mode all the time. It’s no wonder humans are the way we are, why we can’t maintain relationships, why we can’t exist peacefully.

I just hate it. I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.

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The Secret — Edvard Munch

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Oh, and you know, in the process of scouring my blog for memory jogging, I also made myself cry uncontrollably because how did I totally fuck up so badly? Rykers little feet and his baby hands and reading about how I felt when I had him. It’s just too much. I cut off all my emotions associated with those memories. I can’t remember so much cause it’s just too painful.

I ruined my son and our relationship and he didn’t deserve any of what I caused. I will never get to be with him like I used to get to be with him. He was my whole world and I was his. I think that’s also why I’m so fucking fucked. I am a mother without her children and I have to walk around everyday knowing they are being raised by others when I made them with my own body. I can’t believe I am the person I am. I know I’m not bad anymore, but the damage is done and I can’t fix it. I’m just stuck. I definitely deserve this life, but I am just so fucking sad.

Whatever im going to bed.

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Could someone pat my head with a bat?

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Juan José Rosado (1987)

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Mermaids Under by Michael Dweck

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the shitty free write and shitty poem I barely tried to write

I don’t know what I wanna say but I know I have a lot to say

Triggers love life stories fairytales impossible lengthy long tired sore scared worried paranoid fear love right wrong together trap snare drums bears music laugh lights lasers freeing  ring hurt breaking unsafe worried lives connected gross bad worthless timeline

Triggers

Cold steel and paper skin

Squeeze out the venom from with in

Walk on the cracks across our past

And try not to break my back

My body’s like a shredded quilt

I’m lost inside the threads

Can’t seem to find the starting point

Or where it all began

I pull and pull

I rip and tear

Trying my best to keep it clear

But loose strings simply slip apart

My skin too soft to bear

The thick threads of past regrets

An endless void of forgotten pain

Snapshots of that life

Still images speak so little truth

I think I caused my own demise 

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Cat’s out of the bag

I’ve not been using this as a place to dump my thoughts because I haven’t felt safe enough to do so, but at this point, I don’t think it matters. If I’m going down this path that involves contact with someone I’ve been scared to be in contact with for various reasons, there isn’t really a point in hiding, is there? I’m horrible at lying and always have been. Simply being in contact in real life will result in my saying things I I probably shouldn’t, anyways, might as well expedite the process because, as we know, I’m really stupid and horribly naive.

Anyways, the last two weeks have been especially rough for me. Really, it’s been more like four. I started a massive split around the first week of November. Fuck, I guess that’s two months LMAO. It’s not been the whole time. I keep going in and out of the split. Something will happen, I am triggered, I lose a little bit of my mind. I kind of realized that work triggers me. I lose my mind if I have my phone handy while at work. Whether it’s me yelling at someone, me egging someone on, or me over sharing, I bust out all the masks while at work. It must be the high stress anxiety that causes it. I don’t even recognize me sometimes. I also realized that every time I go visit with the twins, I’m triggered. My mom revictimizes me every time by treating me like a stranger. Carol would do the same. I’ve been trying really hard the last few weeks to figure out what I need in all aspects of my life. I think the conclusion I’ve come to is that I need to be alone. I need to have time to myself for once in my life. I have never, ever been on my own. I have almost always been the breadwinner, almost always supported myself, but I’ve never been alone. I am starting to think a large part of my personality deficiency is because I’m uncomfortable with myself because I don’t know her. I am an amalgamation of all the friends I’ve had, my family that made me, people I’ve loved, and people I’ve fucked, and I don’t wish to be this anymore. I want to be only myself. I also realized the smallest little things trigger me in my relationship now. Arlindi and I have been working on identifying the small things and have been getting a lot better about talking about them. I used to shut down. I’m trying to be more open. With him and everyone.

I downloaded a bunch of self help tools that I’m going to try and work on. I have a plan to get my license and a car and to get my taxes done so I can get back into school. There are too many moving parts, like always, but I just need to focus on me. On top of all the splitting and stress and self worth issues I decided to add my ex into the mix, because why the fuck not. It’s not like I had much of a choice. The whole idea made my skin crawl but I thought about it hard and decided it would be the best option to help Ryker carry as little trauma as possible from our failed relationship. After today, I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know who to believe. I don’t know if I can trust myself or my memories and I don’t know if I can trust Jordan to fill in the gaps. I don’t trust that the things I said to him today won’t get back to my family. I am so confused about the past, even more than I was, and I just scoured this fucking blog to get perspective for hours. It helped a little, actually. I made a list of things I need to remember to say to him next time and things I need to remember to ask.

despite all of my mixed emotions, I had a lot of fun today. I didn’t think I was going to. I thought it was going to be awkward or hard or weird, but it wasn’t really. Ryker got to have both of his parents for Christmas and he seemed to be very happy about it and that’s all that matters. Jordan and I got to talk about the past and some trauma. We got to fill each other in on some happenings and I feel like we will be talking about the past for a long while because there is just so mucn. It was cathartic. I just don’t know if I can’t trust him to tell me the truth. I don’t know if we’re playing a game anymore, like before, or if we are being direct and honest and open for real. I want to believe that we can move forward and be kind to each other. I want to believe that the days of us fighting are done. I would talk more about Ryker, but my brain is hurty.

I hate not knowing what to do. I hate being so uncertain all the time and I hate second guessing myself over everything. I am constantly looking at sixteen different possible and completely fleshed out realities and I hate that they’re all happening at once. I hate that I don’t know which one this me is going towards. I hate being this way.

whatever, at least inside the snapshots, inside the compartments in my brain, everything is fine individually. Just try not to look at them all together, otherwise it’ll make you vomit.

Well, my hands hurt from typing. that’s all folks, gonna try and read myself to sleep.