To the people of my past

To the people of my past who shaped my present and will help shape my future:

I can’t and I won’t apologize for who I was during a particular time in my life.

I could, but what how does that help me? It doesn’t. It can’t change anything about who I was, the actions that I took, the things I said or even how I behaved. I can only send my apologies that you aren’t able to experience how I’ve grown, who I have become and who I will become.

For the people of my past who continued to my present and hopefully my future, thank you. Thank you for sticking by when I was at my lowest and continue to stick by me as I fall further.

If you know anything about me, and even if you don’t I suppose, then you should know that I don’t let people into my life. I don’t let people in to my heart unless they deserve that spot. I don’t give pieces of myself to just anyone. When you walk away, I do too. The only difference is that I don’t look back. As awful as it sounds, I don’t check in on you from a distance, it’s as if you never existed to me unless it’s relevant and even then I don’t use your name. But if I let you in during a certain period of my life you served a purpose. As systematic or pragmatic that may sound, you did. You served a purpose for me so I can and will thank you for that.

Some of you taught me things about myself that I never would have learned otherwise. Some of you taught me what I will and will not compromise on. Others taught me what toxic relationships look like. Others taught me to find value in myself. Unfortunately so many of you taught me how to hate every last part of myself down to my core being. You almost allowed me to think that the world would be better off with out my darkness in it. The thing is though you dont have that power over me, you don’t dictate my actions, my thoughts or my moods. You my influence them, but I am my own person.

I make my own choices and you don’t have to agree with or like them, that’s not my problem. That’s your problem. That took me the longest time to learn and understand and actually conceptualize to the point that even as I walked across the bridge to get to this rock that I sit on as I type and I thought, I fucking thought about jumping and ending it, it would have been my choice because of my OWN feelings and thoughts.

I try not to let anger rule my life or my emotions, I try to live in a way that allows me to forgive those that have slighted me, but honestly. Most of you from my past that didn’t carry forward can just go fuck yourselves. My life is so much more full without you, that I want to thank you for letting me go and giving me the space to find myself.

(Un) fun read 

I really, really have nothing to say. My mind is numb and I’m running on empty. Emotionless. It sucks because to even go to my home away from home, to my happy place, literally called Happys, I had to go back to wearing a patch, find my anxiety medicine, you know the fun one that makes me black out, and get fucking obliterated just to be able to stand it. Sure I got to play laser tag, throw some darts, hear my southern accent reveal itself, and push another girl up against her car and hear her moan into my mouth as I kissed her for the first time, but I felt nothing. Not in the sense that for her I felt nothing, although I could honestly care less, she is nice, fun, easy to hang out with, but I got nothing, so I guess for her I romantically feel nothing. It’s okay it happens. Like I said #singlelife and living it out. I made plans to go to Florida in March to play wing woman-why I don’t know, drunk me thought it would be a good idea-drunk me thought a lot of things would be a good idea last night. Clearly, since I woke up this morning having texted two of my ever favorite exes to be around. Don’t get me wrong, one of them I love til death, she’s the one I turn to when shit goes down-when I looked into the future with my most recent ex, I couldn’t picture her standing next to me and helping me get over the ever pending death of my grandmother. To me that says a lot. Like yeah I would have married her and done that shit, she was great, but even my subconscious was telling me that when things got hard she wasn’t the one that I was going to count on to help me stay together or even put myself back together. Why I texted either of them last night, I couldn’t tell you. Why I still have her phone number in my mind, no fucking clue, why my drunk self could even type it in, I can’t fathom. So I kissed a girl, and I can’t really remember it. I literally had to blow my mind out to even want to take it that far. Sure she is, well I don’t even know, sometimes it’s just nice to kiss someone I guess. 

You know how when you read certain things like fanfic? Especially about the supernatural ones, like vampires can just turn their feelings on and off? I can do something similar. Like not to the point where I become savage and ruthless, okay maybe I become ruthless, I’ve heard being shut out by me is fairly brutal, but like I just literally don’t feel anything, don’t give two flying fucks about anything. I can be emotionless and it is simultaneously the most amazing and terrifying thing I can experience. It’s amazing because of how freeing it can be to escape feelings, but terrifying because I am no longer me. To be perceived as normal becomes a strain and then they no longer believe I am fine, the cracks in my armor are visible. 

It’s time to put on a new patch. Or maybe just say fuck it and start smoking again. No that’s the unemotional part of me talking, telling me that I don’t give a shit about myself. I do give a shit, I care about living and I no longer wish to die, I no longer wish to escape this world, I long to live in it, to experience all of its beauty and even its ugliness. There is the other part of me, the side that constantly tries to rear its ugly head that says to just live on the edge, do you, whatever it is just do it. Maybe some sleep is what I need, maybe even to lay off the alcohol and PRN meds, and keep up with the patch. 

Things are always better in the morning. 

Until the next time I decide to pull my head out of my ass and write down how I am feeling and what I’m thinking. 

Here is me pretending I’m Justin Bieber last night.