the man on the hill

 I get why the biggest names in literature were alcoholics. I mean, I think the majority of people know why - but I feel it. Nearly every time I have come to write something on this blog, I've had a drink or two. Tonight, it was a few glasses of wine and a Twisted Tea. I haven't had a drink in a few weeks though, so it's hitting a little harder than it normally would.    

I reread all the blog posts. It's so clear to me now how unhappy I was, arguably still am. Reading all those posts, I can't tell if me forgetting so much of these memories is a good thing or a bad thing. Did I heal or did I not? I think I just blocked it all out. It probably isn't the best idea to reread it all, especially the C things. It's been so long, you think it would be okay by now. Everything I said though remains true though. I forgot so much of what he did. He used to hit me so much. I thought my other relationships had healed that, but I hadn't realized how much of a wall I have built around myself since then. I don't want this anymore. I'm tired. I don't like being distrusting, because I don't have the heart for it. Does this make sense? 

Chat, am I ever going to figure this life out?

just living that life

it is a wounded feeling to miss you. it has been a year and it's a hard truth to accept. i still constantly wonder if you miss me in the slightest. i think i know what the answer is, and i wish i was okay with it. 

i've been dreaming up all these different scenarios in my head. what would i do if you apologized 

the answer to that is only hurtful to me

i miss you, but i know you never even listened to me enough to remember this blog existed. 

i have always been a storm

 To think it has been so long since I last posted on here...

I haven't looked at what I last wrote about, but to be honest I don't think I will read it even after I finish writing this. Just kidding, of course I will. I love to torture myself, what can I say. Every time I come on here I always hope that I will have something better to say than the last, but we all know that is not true. I am doomed to a life of misery, but that is okay. I think I've gotten used to it by now. 

Still working in a pharmacy, still haven't finished my degree. When I say my life sucks, like it really really sucks. I don't know what it is about the last year or so, but I just have felt so awful about myself. It is physically so hard to get myself to do anything. I mean this blog is just one example, I was too depressed to even talk about being depressed? It feels kind of good to type this out though. I always like just typing my thoughts as they come. I wish THAT could be a profession. I mean, it is, but I am just not good enough for that y'know. Like let's be real for a moment, even though I love to write I am not a professional by any means. I am not even a professional historian. The only thing I am is a professional failure. Yes, I am saying that with my chest. I don't care how cringe it is, it's true. 

Anyways, the only reason I have the energy to write on here in the first place is because I took a focus pill. I was going to use it to do my actual work, like my literal thesis? But I don't even know where to begin. I have no focus, no money, no decent job prospects. I feel like I am just constantly cycling around the fact that I am so useless. I always feel like a waste of space. I can feel the disappointment of everyone around me. It feels like it just seeps into my pores, trickles into my bloodstream, and plagues my mind all day. The crazy thing is I feel so capable, but I'm just stuck. I feel like I've been paralyzed ever since 2021. I miss who I used to be. I don't know who I am anymore, and I think that's why it has been so hard for me to even finish my degree. I had always held myself to this higher standard, and when I couldn't reach it - it was like the floor just fell out from under me. 

I wish I was a kid again. I miss using my tiny closet as a panic room, the glow in the dark stars I hid under the shelf. I miss the big orange tub I would stuff all my plushies in. I miss the dogs, the horses. even Ruby. Such a cliche to say that I didn't realize how simple life was back then, but it's true. Even in my darkest childhood moments, there is just some comfort there that I will never find again. 

I wish I could just disappear into a Montana forest, a canyon in Arizona, a glacier in Alaska. Somewhere where my life didn't seem so loud, so ominous. I wish I was a book. 

like you were walking onto a yacht

 my life has been miserable and every single day feels like my mind is on fire. i hate always waiting to see if my life is going to be over or not the next day. i know i have always been sad, but i never felt as if i would act on it. y'know what i mean? but lately i feel like i could if i got desperate enough. this is so hard and i feel like even though i knew this would eventually happen i could never be ready for it. i could never feel prepared enough to feel like i will ever be okay again. cause i don't think i will. i already feel as if i am different. i feel like i'm a borderline alcoholic at this point because of how i am just trying to forget everything. 

i cant believe that were talking about him

 I think that I am doing better most days. Some days, I still feel so lost inside my own head. I wish I knew how to describe it diligently, but I cannot. It is like my brain goes on autopilot mode and spends days on this static-y channel that I can't change. Even on my best days, I feel like there is still this gloomy, eerie feeling creeping upon me. I hate that no matter what I do, I feel like he is still watching me. I want to forget everything about him - his face, his laugh, his touch. It disgusts me. It seems like the further time gets from him, the clearer the memories I have blocked out become. I hate that such a horrible human being has defiled me and my mind to this extent. I just don't know how to get away from my own thoughts. I can be at work, at the grocery store, in class - and some jarring memory will come up and I can't get out. I relive it over and over no matter how much I want to forget. All I want to do is forget. I want to forget everything, so much. I feel like no one understands how I feel. No one will ever know how bad it was. Ever. The panic I would feel if he grabbed my phone - I would slide it underneath the mattress so he couldn't find it. Or when he would get mad in the car, so i would crawl to the furtherest corner I possibly could so he couldn't hurt me, but would still pull me by the hair so hard it would rip small chunks out. He would bang my head against the window, then cry that I made him crazy - I was the one who made him do these things. Or when I would beg for him to leave me alone, I didn't want to be touched. He would still force himself onto me, and get upset when I would silently cry because it meant I didn't like it - which I didn't. I think I cried every single time. I know talking about these things makes people feel uncomfortable, but sometimes I just have to. I have to say it out loud so other people can tell me I'm okay. I need this constant reassurance that I am safe from him. Sometimes I wish that 18-wheeler had taken me that day, I remember standing outside my car and wondering why it just hadn't taken me. I really wanted it to. I would have done anything to get away from him, and I felt like no one could hear me. Once the relationship was over, suddenly it was as if everyone was like, "yeah, i always knew he was a piece of shit." But why didn't anyone help me? I get mad at everyone, because why would they leave me in that situation if they "knew." I know I shouldn't, but sometimes the pain feels so bad I can't even breathe. I can't imagine what I would have done if M hadn't saved me. I think I would have k-word myself if he hadn't talked to me that day. He was the first person to listen to me, and for that I am forever grateful - no matter what our friendship is now. 

The message I sent to M that night:

 basically he doesn't leave me alone, he's cheated on me and I've tried to leave so many times but he threatens me and follows me everywhere. and I don't talk about it with literally anyone, because it's embarrassing and he's friends with them too and I don't want to make him look bad either. but he's just consistently verbally abusive; for example, his favorite thing to call me is "piece of shit". He starts fights for everything and he's super jealous, like he grabs my phone and looks through it and any little thing he gets mad for. And when he gets mad sometimes I just kind of shut down because I get so scared and anxious, and that makes him so upset he starts pulling my hair and threatening to punch me or he'll just start biting me. Just a few weeks ago, I tried breaking up with him because I was so emotionally exhausted and he took my phone, threw me in my car, and took the keys to my car and he locked me in there with him and he wouldn't let me leave till I called my mom to tell her that I "cheated on him", which I never have. He got so mad that I wouldn't do it that he smashed the radio, and then said it was my fault because I wasn't doing as he said. At the funeral last week, he got upset that I didn't take him to go say hi to my friend who was in the front - which I realize was rude but I was super upset too and wasn't thinking straight and I apologized, but he made a huge scene in the parking lot and said that again, I was a piece of shit, and that I should've died instead. And I tried walking away, but he would just yell even louder and I didn't want to be disrespectful so I had to stay and listen to him. And I know he's cheated on me, and I tried leaving him for that and he had my coworker, who is his friend, lie to my face too - and he followed me until I would talk to him. And each time I try to leave he threatens to kill himself. He says that I completely ruined his life, and that I'm the reason he has bad grades and why he won't get into any law school. I do the boy's homework!! I write his freaking essays, because he won't stop bothering me until I do. If I don't help him, then he doesn't let me do my work. The only reason he gets good grades on stuff is because I do it for him - and I don't even take his freaking classes. He just has such a low gpa because he doesn't study and chooses to go downtown every weekend. Like each time I get stressed about something he gets mad because he says "you have a 4.0 you piece of shit you have nothing to worry about" - as if I didn't work for it. It's just so hard to leave, please don't make me feel stupid for it because I have tried everything. Absolutely everything. And it's made me really depressed, and idk I just need to talk about it because I never do because I don't want people to think I'm stupid for not being able to leave.

I only wish the best for M, because he once did the same for me. He listened to me when no one else did, and did his best to get me out of that situation. But I want to get away from C so badly. I want him to be deleted from my memory, to forget he ever existed. The smallest things will send me back to that corner of the truck, afraid for my life. When people yell, that fist thing people do when they're angry - even soccer jerseys, just send me into this void that is so difficult to get out of. The way he would swerve the car saying he would kill us both, driving us into a ditch, leaving me alone in another state - I hate that it feels as if it happened yesterday. I hate that he might even be reading this, because he once knew what this blog was. I hate that I still have probably so much blocked out, that I don't even realize. I don't want to remember anything else. I don't think I can handle it. I feel like no matter how much love and light is in my presence, he has done so much to hurt me and my innocence - it will never be enough. It quite literally feels like there is this darkness in my mind and heart that is inescapable. I want it fixed so bad. I love my life, I love Mason, my Hiccup, and my Cowboy - but I feel like he has robbed me of a normal life. I wish I could just rip it out of my mind and my soul. He ruined so many things for me. I feel as if I can't exist within my own head without his ever-lingering presence.  

u & i, forever wild

 i always think that i'm getting better or that i'm okay, but i still always end up here. i still always end up feeling this way. why does it always loom back. why does it feel like i am never good enough for anything. it hurts so much. 

it's just a cycle. i will feel fine in a few days, but soon enough it'll find its way back to me. i feel like i can't talk to anyone about it. i don't know how to open up like that, no one ever taught me. or maybe i used to be able to? and i just can't do it anymore. i think i've just trusted too many people who broke their promises to me, and now i don't know how to open up? even now, typing these words, i feel like i'm holding back. i can never tell if i'm being overdramatic or if this is a genuine mental health issue. i wish i could talk to someone about this. i'm tired of doing this alone. so tired. 

i ain't no fortunate son

 it's crazy how long it has been since i have written anything. i don't know if i deleted anything, because it was too sad. i can't remember. i don't really know what to say, i'm just so sleepy. i guess here is just a quick list of things that have changed since my last post. 

the list of things that have changed: 

• hiccup and cowboy
• new apartment
• living in san marcos
• living with mason
• lead tech
• currently sitting in my masters class
• pandemic 
• haven't eaten at a restaurant all year 
• gained weight
• best friends with aiza again

looking back on this list, it's actually kind of crazy how much has changed. it's weird to see it all in a little concise list. i'm sure that there is more that i have missed out on, or just forgot to type - but still. i should probably go back to listening in my class, but it is literally so boring. 

the feeling's gone, and i just can't get it back

it always comes back to this same feeling. i don't know why i can never stay happy, i feel like i always have to make myself sad. i do it to myself, and i don't know why. i don't think i like it. i don't enjoy crying to myself. but it just gets harder and harder to talk to people, and it's just so much easier to isolate myself. i can't understand why i do this, and why i've always done this. maybe it's just the routine of it all...i know what to expect once i start acting this way? i don't know

turn out the lights

i am not sure when i became such a cynical person, or have i always been like this? i don't know if it is just something that i've learned, perhaps as a coping mechanism? i can't stand to read motivational or inspirational words that people write on twitter or instagram. i don't see how those words can help me. i feel like such a dark person, and i can't even talk about it. i don't ever really tell anyone what i'm going through. i don't even talk to anyone really anymore. i spend a lot of time alone, and since i don't have school i have no distractions. i feel like such a failure, and like i'm not worth anything. i haven't done anything to make myself a better person, and i wish i was the type of person to do something of substance. i know that i can if i tried, but i can't bring myself to do it. i feel so broken inside, and to just try and make it through one day is absolutely exhausting.

she lifted up her wings

I was looking at a post I made earlier this month where I listed things I would like to do...and I am proud to say I have accomplished 3 of the 4 things on the list! I have read three books so far this month (soon to be four), I have written more, and I have found more comfort in being alone. I did not realize that I had done so much already, and I feel so happy knowing what I have accomplished. I just wanted to document it. I still feel lost a little, actually a lot. But I am in such a better place than I was last month, and hopefully things only get better from here. I graduate in two weeks, and then I am not sure what I will be doing after that....but oh well.

As for boys, oof. I am still so lost and confused. I feel differently about a different boy each day, but I always go back to the same one. I hope he talks to me soon. One of the books that I have read, The Light We Lost, was a very One Day-esque type of novel and I absolutely loved it. But it broke my heart into  a million little pieces. It is just so sad to me how two people can so obviously be meant for one another, but never have the chance to truly be together because life just does not allow for it. And it just reminded me of this one person, and I know that things will never be that grand in my life. But I would like to imagine that one day, maybe, we have our time together. Even if it comes to an end, I would like more time.

This was just a small little update post.

she'll pity the men i know

from a literary standpoint, my life should have already had an upward arch of a miracle by now considering my consistent bad luck. if young adult novels have any sort of truth to them, then something good should be happening to me soon...right? but alas, i continue on this downward spiral. but i have been trying to better myself. i cleaned my room, read a book, went running. i'm going to start taking my vitamins, considering my iron deficiency.

i am thinking about maybe telling someone about this blog. i just don't know if i should, i have had this a secret for more than two years. i am scared for someone to read all these thoughts. maybe they're too personal for my real life. it's something that i have to think about a little more. also i know my writing is not good, and it is a little embarrassing.

outta my head

i knew. i knew already what my mom was going to say. i had seen the stacks of mail from the oncology clinic piling up on the counter. i had caught her wiping away silent tears in the last few weeks when she thought no one was looking. i wish i had been less observant...just so i could have had a little more time to spend wading in my ignorance. i had prepared myself for this. so when she asked me to come out to the patio to talk, i was ready.

it was around nine'o'clock at night. i had always been grateful to live on a ranch, the silence at night was something that one could not find in a city. but i would have given anything to hear the honks of angry cars or for there to be soft sounds of a television playing from a neighbor's living room on that night. i sat on the rotting picnic table, jailed by the silence of the ranch. i looked at my mom, she stood by the table. she paced back and forth, there was an anxious energy to her as she stumbled to try and find her words, and i did not bother to try and help her find them. her fingers stayed on her necklace as she zipped the charm back and forth across her neck. it made me dizzy. i looked at the sky, trying to find the big dipper. i thought of how many stars there were up there, and what would happen if one just came crashing down from wherever it was lightyears away. hoping that those hot, fiery gassed flames could somehow find me within the next thirty seconds, so that way i would never have to hear whatever words were about to come out of mom's mouth. but sadly, that just isn't reasonable. but with news as what i believed she was going to tell me, would anything ever be reasonable again after this?

she opened her mouth, and began to speak.

three nights at the motel

i keep thinking about his tattoos. when i used to stare at them through the small creeping light that came through the window, i would think about someone else. the flowers on his back reminded me of the flowers i used to see on someone else's chest. i would trace the scar on his back, and close my eyes and think of that other person. i was confused. there was an awareness of the person in front of me, but i missed the way things used to be...the other person who would lay where he was now. i would think of him in those early morning hours. never at night, no. i would not think of him at night. but, when i would wake up...i could only think of him and what he could be doing. 

but now i don't have anyone. 

and i can't tell who i miss more. before, it was one feeling of heartbreak. but now i deal with two. 

the best of my love

i have never liked grapefruit. i mean, the smell is sweet. but i could never get past the sour, confusing taste. my mom always put sugar on the top. she would cut the fruit straight down the middle, grab a spoon, and sprinkle sugar all over the pink innards. i don't like grapefruit. but, i like this thought. the memory of my mother sprinkling sugar. in particular, on a summer day, the light shining through the window, a question lingering in the air if we should go into the pool. she eats her grapefruit on the couch, managing to get absolutely no juice onto the leather surface. but, her fingers are sticky. she wiggles them at me, and asks me to get her a wet paper towel. her eyes dance with the sunlight that comes through the broad window.

while on certain medications, it is recommended to not consume grapefruit products.

she lays in a bed now. it is winter, and there is no sunlight coming through the window of this white, bland room. she uses her weak fingers to try and gather ice chips from a blue plastic cup. they shake. she looks up at me and asks me to leave the room.

i don't like grapefruit. but today, i will eat a grapefruit and maybe put some sugar on the top.

run through the jungle

the last month of my life had been fairly interesting, and i am surprised at the events which occurred. and although my heart has definitely been broken, i must say i am finding some comfort in it. there is just a constant whirlwind of moments which are just continuously fluttering through my mind, and there are so many unanswered questions. but, i feel lighter. i feel like a better person. i don't think i want to share what happened just yet, but i will eventually.

i think i should practice my writing more, and i am being serious this time. i think i will just start writing fiction. i have decided i don't want to do law school, but i have always wanted to be an author. so, why not? of course, i will continue going to school and graduate school, but i can always write on the side. i will be putting more time aside for that.

i think i am going to make a list of things i would like to accomplish.

the list:
1. write more.
2. read at least 3 books a month.
3. be happier about spending time alone.
4. doodle more.
5. learn.

dancing in the sky

actually no, i feel like i need to write a little more. whenever i post, i always look back at my old posts. always. and i am always so disgusted, because who did i think i was? talking about anxiety, talking about that piece of shit boyfriend, talking about PARTIES? i was so....dumb. literally, i can't remember those being things i was ever legitimately upset about. whenever i would write them, i would make it about a certain topic - but it is never what i actually meant. would i be upset about something? yes, but it was something i couldn't talk about because i'd get my shit beat if i did. it's funny how none of my friends know this exists. i don't tell my friends anything. i don't even tell dora. no one knows how bad it ever got. no one. i still have marks all over my body from where he would hit me. there's a lump on top of my head from when he threw me against the wall once. it's hard to remind myself that that part of my life is over. it's traumatizing. and i don't know who to talk to about it. it isn't fair that he gets to go on with his life, as if nothing happened. like he didn't fuck me up for an entire two years. but, i know it's my fault. i should have just left, but i was so afraid. whenever i think about that time, or him, i just want to end the pain. i never liked him, that was the worst part. i didn't stay because some part of me loved him, and thought he was a good person deep down. i was just afraid of him hurting me to the point of no return.

there was a time he left me in the middle of a dirt road, in the middle of nowhere, without my phone, in a shady city for an entire two hours.

the veins under my eyes were always popped. they were just red and purple from how often i would cry.

my stomach and ribs were always bruised.

my car radio was smashed.

my phone was smashed.

my clothes were always ripped.

i could never speak. i could never go out.

but was this even his fault or was it mine

maybe someday, on a sunday...i'll be telling you

a month has passed. some things have changed, but not much. i get more tired of life as the days go on. i have good days, but more often than not they are bad. i mean i am sleeping a lot more than i used to, but i don't think that is necessarily healthy either. in fact, i am pretty sure it's just depression naps i keep taking. anyways, i should probably write this essay i'm ignoring huh.

you're gonna carry that weight

I have been feeling like I am in such a rut. I don't know how to get out of it, I don't know what to do. I am so tired of feeling the same things over and over. I am getting bad again. I haven't felt this way in a while. And I feel like I have no one to talk to. I don't think anyone knows how sad I am. I know I am depressed. But I don't want anyone to know, I don't want anyone to feel bad for me. Having two parents with cancer suck. Disliking yourself sucks. Missing someone sucks. Life just sucks.

I wonder what people like to write about. Like writing, good writing I would argue, comes from the heart. Am I right? But, what I write here...those are just my thoughts. It doesn't come from my heart, but then it does. It comes from a confused place, that isn't my heart. Is it? I don't know. Wow, I guess I am a little dumb. Is this even good writing? No, what I write is a stream of consciousness. That's why it doesn't flow. BUT, one could argue it does flow. I am writing how I think. Which is a blessing and a curse simultaneously.

Every time I come back here and I look at my old posts, I see how tailored they were. They were so tailored to one person in particular, so I wouldn't get hit for writing something bad. I used to be so manipulated and scared. I didn't even want to see anyone in the library or make accidental eye contact in fear of getting my head smashed against the window in the car. I think I am over that, but then sometimes I remember. I remembered today. And I have been off all day because of it. It's weird, because I know that I am no longer in that situation anymore and that I am safe. But, there is still something inside of me that tells me I need to be careful. I still feel the need to tippy-toe around people.

to love you in moderation

I am back. Yes, it is I. I keep writing this in intervals, and I really should make this more of a habit. I miss so many people. I love so many people. I can't help but to feel so many things, and to feel them all at once. I do not know what I want from people, nor do I know what I want from myself. I really miss one person in particular. And I know that I should not miss them. But I don't really know how to imagine my life without them. I don't know. I don't have much to say.

to help me cope

Hello, I guess I owe some explanation? I know no one reads this except me, but it has literally been a whole entire year since I have posted anything. I feel as if so much has happened since then - and I never wanted to post on here because I was afraid certain people would read it, but I don't care about that anymore. I can't believe what has happened if I am being honest. I used to write on here as a way with coping with my anxiety, but I was never really honest because I knew certain people would read it. Now, I don't care. But I think no one will read this anymore. It has been a long time. About two weeks after I did my last post, my life turned into actual hell. It took me such a long time to recover from that week, and I still have trouble with it every now and then. I think I have gotten better at communicating with others, and I have since been able to be around my friends without feeling uncomfortable. But I think my anxiety is still the same, and lately I think it is just getting worse. I don't know what to do about it anymore. It is starting to feel like I am stuck in an endless cycle. I mean, I am in a cycle. I do the same things every week, is this normal? Is it really? Because it sucks. My life is so much better now than it was a year ago today, but at the same time...there are some things I wish were different. There is not much I can do now I guess.