What amazes me, after years of living and fantasizing.. is the notion that I don’t truly know myself. I’m always discovering new territory in my psyche. 

It’s a constant struggle to stay on the right path when you don’t even know what path it is you are on. 

Only time will tell. 

Patience is hard though. 


I wake up exhausted

I am always tired. I wish I wasn’t. 

I have a constant headache that reminds me of my exhaustion and sleep deprivation. 

It’s not that I choose not to sleep. I love sleeping. I love resting. Sometimes I just can’t sleep. I work graveyard shifts so my sleep schedule and my body is all out of balance. It feels truly terrible. 

I just want to sleep in the cozy arms of my beloved 😪 💤


I’m constantly wondering why you get so jealous over petty things. 

I posted two emojis on my snapchat story. The picture was of my warm blanket on my bed with a caption that reads, “sleep at last 😘💤💕” 

You texted me asking, “so how would you feel if I was sending hearts and kiss faces to other people” I immediately felt a rush of anxiety and I didn’t understand why. I didn’t do anything wrong. After explaining myself to you, I held on to resentment for your obvious stupidity. 

You say, I trust you. 

I don’t believe you. 
I don’t understand why I feel like I need to justify everything I post on social media to you. I don’t understand why you can’t accept that I don’t want you looking through my phone when I say I trust you, too. If you really trusted me, you wouldn’t need to ask that question. If you really trusted me, you would listen

I was raised with many morals and one that has always stuck with me is that everyone deserves some privacy. I sometimes feel you don’t respect mine. 

I don’t deserve to be accused of outrageous actions that I have not and would not do. As my partner, you should trust that I would not do anything to hurt you. So why is it that you question my loyalty and distrust in me so? 

I know I’m not perfect. I have my faults, but I would not dare accuse you of stupid shit

Being in a long distance relationship is difficult and has its challenges, but feeling distrust from the one person I am emotionally closest to makes me feel like pulling away. I don’t know why I’d want to live together again- especially when irrational jealousy is so prevalent in your brain. I don’t want to make a home with you if I can’t feel free to be myself with you. I don’t want to live in a home where I feel all my actions and emotions are criticized. Criticism is not love. Encouragement is. 

I feel like you are boxing me up and wrapping the box shut. I am confined to the walls you have chosen and I am not allowed to leave. I am not okay with feeling like this anymore. I don’t want to feel like this any longer. 

I’m done. 

Memory vomit 

I remember sitting in class sophomore year at Ashland High School feeling terribly insignificant, my insecure thoughts drowning my senses- causing my inability to focus. I sat in my chair with an unobstructed view of my English teacher’s podium and the screen projector hanging on the ceiling above the desk my chair was pushed into. Beside me, to my left, was a vibrant female whose thoughts when verbalized channeled through me and traversed the air around me, she was captivating and I knew I wanted to know her. She was quite nice, there was talk in the classroom that she was a model from NYC. She was modest, while naturally beautiful with symmetrical features and bountiful locks of long hair. Her eyebrows were naturally full and added dimension to the bed they laid upon- curious eyes that have seen much of the world, yet she was always quite optimistic. I admired her thin frame and the way she spoke her words. She enjoyed learning and provoking thought and it was enjoyable to be in her presence. We would smile and speak briefly, but we never quite became friends. She was a doll, truly. I only wish my social anxiety would not have prevented a potential friendship. 

I only wish I was able to express my own intellect when I was around her and in that classroom full of diverse teenagers. I felt far from unique. Everyone there at that school had something that made them interesting or different or just unique in general. I felt so far removed from each of those individuals. It seemed they all had their own niche. I never did. 

Maybe it was my depression kicking in, but I felt my value as a student, person, and friend was all very low. I felt invisible. I found it difficult to make friends. 

I became so insecure I could not focus in class on anything other than my failures. My English teacher was concerned because he knew I was quite smart or maybe he just knew I had somethings that needed to be said- read. I never even finished one writing assignment. I felt so much overwhelming anxiety that I convinced myself I could finish school at home through a local charter school. I stopped going to school and eventually after about a month of staying inside of my room, I began taking classes online and lost motivation after a few months. I stopped doing schoolwork altogether after being ahead of all of my deadlines out of crippling anxiety that made it impossible to focus on school. All I could focus on was my discomfort when going to school and not having friends, I felt so alone, confused and depressed. I dropped out of school for a month or so and forced myself to go to Rogue Community College to get my GED. I took some GED courses there and my writing teacher was always so motivational and she made me feel like I was worth something in my academics. She was truly wonderful. She helped inspire me to take my GED tests (along with my boyfriend at the time). I exceeded standards on all sections of the test and felt pride in my being when I recieved an email a few weeks later from Jasmyne, my old GED writing instructor congratulating me on my success. 

I can’t imagine how smoothly things could have gone in my life had I not had to suffer with so much anxiety. I still suffer from it and I’ll admit- anxiety does get the best of me; it is crippling and I fear many things because of it. I feel held back in many ways. Repressed because of this mental illness. 

I wish I had a memory without the reminder of anxiety and depression and the hold it has had on me for as long as I can remember. I just want to be okay. 

I just want to find my path. 

Alone again.

I feel hollow inside.

I feel like there’s something missing, some part of my genetic make up that has been lost or maybe not yet found. I feel like there’s so much of me I don’t know, but I don’t know how to go about meeting her.
How can I shake hands with myself if I don’t even know myself?
I feel like my whole world is fiction and I am merely pushed into scenes I cannot control. I know the scenes are coming, I know I can change the script, yet I sit idly by hoping someone can help me.

I can’t help myself.
Why can’t I help myself?

I have helped countless others, yet I can’t look into my own heart and soul and figure out what the fuck I’m still doing here?

I need someone to talk to that isn’t going to judge me.

I need someone to talk to that isn’t going to devalue my words.

I need someone to try to understand what’s happening inside of my shitty brain.

I’m tired of talking to the voices, the characters I make up in my mind.

It gets awfully lonely when the only person that is thought to know your truest, deepest self is lost in the wind of your vacant mind.

I need other people.

I just can’t ask for help.
What if I don’t matter enough?

Therapeutic Therapy

“Maybe you aren’t ready to be in a committed relationship.” – M. Solomon

I went to see a personal counselor on my school campus, and it was pretty immersive.

Not in the sense of like, immersion therapy.
In fact, I’m not even sure what that means.

I just mean that I learned a lot about myself.
It felt good to let it out.
I didn’t even know that I was like this. Continue reading “Therapeutic Therapy”

Fictional Reality

“I will hide behind my pride. Don’t know why I think I could lie.. because there’s a screen on my chest. I’m standing in front of you, everything together, trying to be so cool.”  –  |/

I have a tendency to lie.
It’s hard to acknowledge that wholeheartedly.
I pride myself on being so honest and open, but I hide things from my partner, and I think he deserves better than me. I’m a piece of shit.

I pride myself on loyalty, sanity, and rationality.
But what if who I think I am,

is a past self?


If I’m not too far off,
then who am I ?

Who am I, really?