Love

She’s not a victim anymore but a survivor. She has scars that carry stories forever. At one point in time the sight of them could make the world want to be blind, but now she wears them with grace. Every moment she breathes is a moment where they don’t win. Every word she writes, they see and must face their own false self, created out of the imaginary. She will never be silenced. The illusions once created are theirs to keep, shackling them to the ground and internally she knows they weep. Unable to speak because the truth would break away the fallacy they created for the world to see. The “I never needed her.” “She was nothing to me.”

Love. What is love? She asks. Love does not change when someone is sick, poor or struggling. Love withstands the pressure of all outside forces trying to conquer it. Love does not stand aside when the person you were supposed to protect is being cornered by those who are unworthy of having that power. It defends and defeats those who try to destroy it. And if you walk away leaving a wounded person on a battlefield, what should it be called? Desertion.

But in her case, this desertion brought her resurrection. And oddly enough, she bears scars on three out of four limbs. She carries the weight like a feather, because they ended up creating something that will never lose its light. Will never go to the pits of the darkness again, but understands the necessity of it. She has learned to stand alone and never let another impose on her will. And this was the most valuable lesson of her life. You see? These scars no longer represent the darkness but the will she had to fight for love.

To Chronic Pain Sufferers

I’ve been waiting to write this and I don’t know why. This year has been a blur of all the darkest colors on the spectrum. The pain, lack of sleep, isolation, and lack of understanding of what I’m up against has sort of forced me to write this. As well as realizing some people were meant to exit my life so I could try to submit and battle this awful syndrome all at the same time.

Having one of the worst chronic pain conditions truly taught me about myself and others. It’s shown me I would have to be one strong person to face this. I’ve crawled on really bad days, cried silently, and then smiled in the face of this devilish syndrome with no relinquishment of pain. It’s all the same: burning, coldness, discoloration, numbness, and stabbing. Sometimes I stumble over words as if my brain cannot process what is going on like a computer network being ddosed with too much information. I tremor now trying to fight the signals as my nervous system decides to overload them throughout my body.

And there is nothing that can prepare someone for this kind of h*ll on earth. There is nothing that can prepare someone for the judgments, ignorance, and misguided advice you will receieve either. You have to prepare yourself. You have to read the best sources, fight for the best care, live at appointments, and shut out those who just want to criticize. You have to find the people who will help you. They are out there but hiding away from a world where a lack of empathy is ruling most of the mainstream thought processes. You can’t change some people either, but never give up hope in finding those who will understand. They are out there waiting to be found just like you. Be patient with yourself, kind to yourself and it will be okay. Sometimes we must fight battles we never expected, but just know you’re not alone. ❤

No Erase Button

I cannot erase the image from my mind. He had eyes so vacant they could compete with a clear night sky. He was the dark while I wished for a single bright star to manifest; as if it could be a sign of hope. But no such star would ever be seen.

All the good memories now seem like a fabrication of reality. An experience which she was only present for and he was absent. No wonder she felt so alone even in his presence. Pouring love into a fallacy, as if it could save the illusion he created. It became clear all the dark energy around him now consumed the light in his eyes. Until she could no longer recognize who he was; left with the image of a stranger. And he’s now smoking his life away on a lonely bench with no destination. Choosing a slow demise over love and life.

The hardest thing is to love someone but be put in a position where you must chose yourself. The hardest thing to do is to watch someone fall apart and let the universe step in. The hardest thing is seeing someone be loyal to their own lies and enablers while you are left watching the tradegy unfold. And in your heart, you wished they chose a different path. In your heart, lies the aftermath of the image of what they could have been.

My Thoughts on Abuse by Proxy

There needs to be awareness of a phenomenon which can possibly happen to victims of abuse. Especially after they leave the situation and the abuser no longer has access to them or control. It’s called abuse by proxy. This is where third parties are misled into thinking the victim deserves further punishment and act on the behalf of the perpetrator.

Tactics include creating humiliating situations, attempting to gain information to relay it to the perpetrator, spreading false rumors, and trying to turn friends or family against the victim. These methods are incredibly effective at silencing, intimidating and isolating the person who holds the truth. Those who do the dirty work are believing they are correcting a perceived injustice when in actuality they are re-traumatizing a person who is trying to heal.

These people who are doing the dirty work are also in a sense, victims. They have been preyed upon, misled, and now wrapped into a web of lies. If they do finally realize a pattern exists with the perpetrator, they end up feeling remorse for playing a part. Or they risk becoming the target for wrath if they confront the narrative given.

I personally believe based upon my own experiences, this could be one of the many reasons why those who have suffered traumatic situations do not speak out. It feels like a misled army is trying to invade your boundaries, peace, and prohibit you from healing. If those you trusted turn against you, it can be incredibly difficult to face all of this alone. For anyone going through this please know there are people out there who have faced the same type of abuse and will understand. Thank you.

To Help Survivors ❤

How long will you let them control you? How many years did you sacrifice worrying about the people who did not worry about you? How many nights did you cry silently because you did not want people to yell at your tears? How many years went by where you couldn’t focus on yourself because you spent nights waiting for their arrival in fear?

It is time to wipe those tears and embrace what you were always afraid of: giving up on the people who gave up on you. And it isn’t going to be easy reprogramming your mind back to where it was before it all happened. And perhaps, it will never be the same. But know, you survived like a warrior. You came out of a battle some people do not survive and some people will never comprehend. And it isn’t your duty to explain yourself, your reasons for staying, your reasons for going back, and your reasons for loving the people who could never love you back. Forgive yourself. For you had tried to face another person’s demons while facing your own. While trying to survive an already cruelly set up world. And in all the darkness, you brought a light. One so bright, it attracted the lost souls out of the darkness. It was not your fault. And trust me, for years you thought it was, rummaging through self help books, videos, and picking yourself apart to pieces. A task few people attempt to do for a lifetime. In the end, you realized you were not perfect but you were nothing like those who hurt you.

So shine my beautiful survivors. Shine so bright that the world can see you are every color of the rainbow. Shine from the moment your eyes open to the moment they close at night. Even if it hurts to try because you are so exhausted by now. You owe it to yourself more than anyone in this world to realize who you are: a survivor and not a victim.

Now She’s Gone

         Poof! Now she’s gone! Like the song by Felt no one ever knows she references. At least she can admit an ex introduced her to the band, rather than act as if she found it herself. Desiring to look cool to possible dating prospects. Ha ha. Go right ahead, add that one to your playlist as well. Like the other songs she tried to listen to, that you didn’t let her, and post to your facecrap so the next woman can think you can terrific taste in music. More like her taste in music. Rainbow kitten surprise, Kasey Musgraves, Theo Katzman, Chet Faker. The list could go on. I am sure she will eventually see a mutual friend of yours on facecrap post pictures at one of these artists concerts with you. Just know she won’t be jealous. It doesn’t work. She will always find music, venues, and people to hang out with. Go see the bands that are no longer at their prime like the Counting Crows, or ones you had already seen a decade ago but cannot remember for reasons I will not say. You don’t even have the motivation to find your own taste in music. That speaks volumes.

       So go ahead you can try to replace the now ex Fiancée with one of the many women you kept chatting on the side, while acting like you were ready to settle down. Any woman would have seen it as a red flag. And let me make this clear, go ahead with your smear campaign; but she is not a pedophile accuser. The replacement though is nineteen years old and you are in your late thirties. People will judge but you two are perfect for each other. She lies about having a boyfriend, has no self respect, attention seeks and is immature. By the way, so cool to act as if you were always platonic friends, when the reality was far from it. So cool to invite ex dating prospects to events. And “just chatting” with them late hours of the evening while knowing you would be upset if your now ex Fiancée started doing the same.

        Oh, dare I mention the infamous line? “Oh, I would beat a guy if he pet you.” Meanwhile, letting your now ex Fiancée watch your double standards, deep rooted in misogynistic, alpha male stereotypes. You think she was dumb, huh? Not dumb, but maybe dumb for loving you so much she put up with things no normal woman would have. The truth is: she loved you since she was nineteen years old and first laid eyes on you. She saw potential. But as ten years past, you decided to just give up on yourself. Decided to not contribute to society or do anything to better yourself. Instead, it seems you gave up while expecting some kind of miracle to save you from yourself?

         Was she supposed to be that miracle? After you told her she expected people to take care of her, while she went through extensive surgeries? Did you think it did not hurt when you assumed she was a “golddigger.” She worked full time during college, after college, and up until she had to do surgery. Basically since she was sixteen years old. God forbid unseen health circumstances arose that she had to address. So kind of you to judge rather than listen. So kind of you to literally regurgitate her previous abusive exes insults and continue to imbed it into her head? Didn’t think of the fact, you might be reopening wounds rather than leaving the scars she healed alone. And let’s not even get into the fact your own resume hasn’t looked great in ten years, but you were perfectly abled bodied. Throw your stones while living in a glass house, right?

        And one must ask: how many other women were supposed to be a life changing miracle for you? How many ended up hurt? Why do you think it is fair to expect so much emotional support while treating women as disposable once the honeymoon phase wears off? You think telling everyone your exes did to you what you really did to them  isn’t going to be figured out? You think you have people fooled but really the joke is on you. And it is not a funny joke to actually live the way you do. It is sad.

       All us past women once had faith you would tell the truth when asked, but after repeated lie after lie; the trust was gone. You expect to build a solid foundation off of no truth. She had to see with her own eyes your lies to wake up. And when she saw undeniable evidemce: you lied again. Gaslit her like the nineteen forties movie. What was next? A flickering of the lights, then telling her she was seeing things? No one deserves to live that way. No one. Not so you can maintain your façade. She wanted to live in truth, not lies.

      But what really sticks out and probably always will is the way you purposed. The casual handing over of the ring in the car, then the infamous line: “nw you can rub it in my best female friend’s face.” She wishes she could replace it with anything else. As a child, she envisioned a man at least getting on one knee and muttering four words. Such an expectation, right? She knew she was right in feeling like a pawn in a game riddled with jealously inducing antics, based upon your own insecurities. It was as if she wasn’t even a human to you. It was as if you failed to see how embarrassing it would be to explain to other people how you purposed. But looking back, she now sees it as a blessing. She now sees she was lucky to have not married someone who couldn’t even get on one knee like a gentlemen and say four words. Someday, when she finally finds a man who kisses her forehead at night, never wants to see her shed a tear, and actually wants a real commitment, you will probably think: I wish I never let her go. But she won’t try to remember you by then. She will create memories she deserves to have with someone who deserves her.

To the Broadcaster Who Told Me To Kill Myself

I hope when you read this your empty grin turns into a grimace. I know it will. Despite apparently having so much self proclaimed “relevancy” you seem quite angry. Why are you so angry if you have everything then?

By the way, when you send the money to my mother to “pay for the abortion she didn’t have” (obviously me) originally; make sure you send some love with it. (Sarcasm) Oh wait? You can’t because the only thing you seem to care about is affecting people negatively for fun & acquiring more material objects. I watched you on a live stream orchestrate the harassment against me by using fake accounts. And it was a funny coincidence my Twitter was hacked that evening as well.

Such a sad attitude to be wasting all your talent and destroying your image. Such a sad close group you have echo chambering your vile behavior. If they actually cared they would have wanted to see you be a better person. But of course, instead you have handed over moderation to these kinds of people. A disappointment. And it isn’t just you who is conducting in this manner. There are many like you honestly.

I know you display some naracisstic qualities so I’ll clarify as well I am not writing this because I’m “jealous of you.” I’ve dealt with sociopaths, narcicissts, and unfortunately I know how they operate. Trust me, I don’t envy someone with an inability to show empathy. My intent is for me to get this overly negative weight off my shoulders that you placed upon me; someone you know nothing about. And quite frankly if you knew what I’ve been through and what I am currently going through; my defensive reactions to your tactics would make more sense to you. My point is: I truly believe some of us have endured unimaginable things more than others. Some people really cannot comprehend what it is like to try to mend those things unless they have been in a similar situation. Nor would I want them to. I don’t want anyone to suffer through severely traumatic experiences. I am just saying keep in mind you don’t really know people online and you don’t know their story if you never asked.

I just hope you do realize I am human being behind the keyboard with family and friends who would miss me. I think most of us have someone who would miss us if we gave into suicide (I hope). I feel as a whole with social media, people have forgotten when addressing one another, we are actually addressing a real person. I see people calling each other names constantly, making up things on one another, and now I see more and more physical threats. I also see more kill yourself comments. Especially in this political atmosphere. Do you want to make it so laws have to be created surrounding online conduct & actually be enforced? Keep acting like an animal behind the keyboard then.

I can say even if I dislike someone, I have more restraint with my words than most online. My particular recent “bully” can’t say that because of a lack of patience. Nor people like this. They wear it like a badge of honor when it’s nothing to be proud of. And usually if these people have children, they try to teach this attitude to their children to carry on into society. What kind of example are you setting? I secretly hope their children realize that kind of attitude won’t work in life for the long haul. I hope they try to not be like bad influences, even if those influences are their own parents.

It isn’t okay to walk around in the world putting others down because you’re “relevant” at that time and have influence. What happened to respecting fans? What happened to appreciate fans? I see less appreciation the larger some people become. As if they think it will last forever and they let their ego run ahead. But I have bad news for you: when upcoming talent creeps up on you, you’re going to become irrelevant with that kind of attitude. Just keep that in mind. There are kind AND talented people out there who will create competition for you. Why create your own downfall?

Bring Them Alive

I have to bring them alive and out of my head…

Or they will never truly be alive

And could end up dead..

A tragic waste, someone should have read…

Stored all inside my defiant head…

 

And I’m losing sleep as the words pull me out of bed…

waking me from my dreams to live in reality instead…

Oh I have to be alive and out of my head…

Oh why, she first cried, wanting to slumber instead…

Like a forgotten fragment time had led…

to a narrow path in the woods

instead of what Frost had said….

And now she still sits peacefully at the dead end..

The stillness comforts her, as she tries to mend….

Her feet from all the pathways she tried to bend…

Just to find something, she had in her head…

Just to find a way she could have led…

herself away from this place…

And into what she thought was reality instead…

But turns out to be a figment of her imagination

And in time she finds the soul is just intertwined…

Particles of space and time…

 

And she tried to climb the ladder,

blinded by the thought of it all being gone

Instead of just trying to remain strong

Holding herself up, while trying not to pull anyone else along…

in her already weighted down mind….

 

 

Oh, I have to bring them alive and out of my head…

Or they will never truly be alive

And could end up dead..

A beautiful waste that should have been read

A beautiful song, that should have been played..

Outside of my head.

 

 

The Sullen

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It just crept up on her. Like a sullen boy looking for a sullen girl. There were no words to describe it. Words were no longer easy to craft. And that, my friend, was one of the signs, she drove past, with her foot upon the accelerator.

But no, she wasn’t really wonder woman. She couldn’t just drive through all the obstacles she faced with acceleration. And that, my friend, was another sign, she again drove past. She was a little girl who thought the world was about dreams, fantasies, creativity, imagination, and boy was she wrong. She thought the world would just shed rainbows upon everyone who was deserving. But no, that’s not always the case.

Life can be difficult. Unnecessarily so. She never could see reality as clear as the others. Things can happen at any point in time that can change your perception of yourself. Nothing could have prepared her for this. No curriculum, no adopted ideology, nothing could prepare her for the obstacle she faced. And no person would want to face this. Especially unknowingly.

Perhaps, that was always the issue. She was a dreamer. And then when the dream ended, reality set in and so did the clouds. The rain seemed longer than it actually was. The days seemed longer, and the nights we riddled full of a lack of sleep that no sleep aid could fix. Her eyes would shut, but the noise never did. She thought it was normal.

Did she build this fallacy of a dream and ultimately create this depression? Or did something else? The question always plagues her but there will never be a definite answer. Realistically, the answer is both. In her eyes there are so many factors in situations, she doesn’t even want to think about the past anymore. And when she does, the most sullen of beasts grips onto her as if he will never let go, for there is too much to decipher and reflect upon.

She knows if she digs deeper, she will only discover more people just like her. And the thought, brings a cringe to her face. Just a number she thinks. Everyone of us is just a number now to them. How can you keep your sanity as a number?

How can you not be just a number, when they made you a number?

She knows the fact she even asks these questions brings her hope of escaping an ideology which has done nothing for her but help further her depressing state. A kind of institutional virus she paid to be injected with. Her own ideologies questioned, not embraced in discussion. Her papers written all over with biased red ink. If she looks over them now, it will make her even more infuriated than ever.

So much difficulty she faced, just trying to be herself in a world where acceptance is so hard to come by.

She looks outside though. The sun is still there, shining. She remembers it has always been there and always will be there probably until the day she dies, no matter what happens. She thinks, they sure as heck cannot take away the sun, so I should be okay. Some things cannot be controlled by the human hand.

Being Honest…

I just want to go back there. Go back where it smelled like corn and grass and fresh air. I want to feel my hands in the dirt and know I belong right there, with nothing but a tool and the earth. It is all I ever needed really.  All I ever needed was to become one with the land. I did not need this education, this annihilation of my true self to survive. All I needed was a mentor. Or to take the time to become my own mentor. Somehow I lost sight of my own objectives in life. I tried to pursue something big, perhaps to impress people around me more than myself. I just want to be accepted, to be loved, to be thought of as intelligent and beautiful. Not just a face. I wanted to have it all but what I didn’t realize is I already did have it all. I just wouldn’t allow myself to give myself credit for anything. I had this mentality that nothing I did was good enough.

And I notice this in myself and other people. I notice this social occurrence where people keep beating themselves and others down to achieve greatness. It is trying to think of how much energy is wasted on this mentality. All the energy could be used to be productive if people were respectful of other peoples talents.

Let’s be realistic. Not everyone is meant for college but some are. Some should go to trade school. Some should start a business or a farm. Either way, people should be able to choose what they want without this intrusion of free will. In my opinion, people have adopted this go to college and get a job ideology. It is unhealthy to push someone into something which is not for them. Period. We do not need more student debt but we need more welders and skilled workers more than ever in this country. We don’t need a hundreds of thousands of people with a Bachelors degree and no job. In this push to push the next generation forward with education, a lot of parents have created a nightmare. Their children just want to impress them, rather than be happy. They end up misdirected, depressed, unemployed, or having to move away from the family structure for any opportunity.

What happened to the family structure in America? What happened to the I have your back mentality? I feel as if it was more dominant in this country in the past. The wealth was more distributed when American families stuck together. Is there a connection here? I am not sure. However, I am sure if a family sticks together and either passes down a trade or supplies the funds for an education there is little struggle usually. Divorces shouldn’t be done so often in this country. People need to learn how to mend what is broken rather than running away from it. We need to be not so hard on each other, and practice a gentle hand.

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