I forget how to make my legs work. I stumble, I fall. My knees are bruised from polite submission. I can’t get up. Lying in the dirt. Digging my own hole with broken fingernails. Filthy and discarded. Damaged goods. That’s me. A failure. Someone who gave up.
But that’s just a tiny part of me.
I am a fighter. Stronger than I admit or let on. Calculated. Cold. Empathetic. Affectionate. One doesn’t exclude this other. I pulled myself up without any help. All by myself. Damaged goods. That’s me. A success. Someone who never gave up.
But that too is just a tiny part of me.
I know so much about music and movies and actors… And if I don’t know, I do my research. All this useless information that is stuck inside my head.
Voices… I have voices in my head. No, I am not insane. But I talk to myself and create storylines in my head. I think about what to say and work the words over in my head until they make sense. And my stutter got worse again.
Quite emotional… I am rarely emotional. I cried when my grandma passed away last November. I cried when my son told me that I am a bad mother (and when he told me a week later that he didn’t mean the words he said). I cried when I felt abandoned. But I also cry when I hear music. Lyrics get to me all the time. And all of a sudden I am a crying mess. I cry when I see movies or TV shows. Last time I cried was during an episode of How to Get Away With Murder. I’ve been binge watching that show since last Sunday.
I don’t like women. The drama and narcissism is just too much for me. I don’t have many friends.
I love my son. We have a deep bond and I hope that it will stay that way. I think, I know a thing or two about him he doesn’t know himself. And when he comes to term with it, I will be there.
I am picky. With everything. Most of all with food and books.
I was so proud that I lost lots of weight some time ago. I guess it is all back and a little extra too. I’ve been neglecting myself. Drank too much, ate too much crap. It will stop and change. I am a stress eater and I eat when I am bored…
I had three weeks off work and my work colleagues sent me messages that they miss me and that they’re looking forward to me coming back. Me too.
I suffer from depression. And the older I get, the more anxiety is added to the mix. I feel useless and obsolete when I am not taking my medication. It has worsened a lot.
Two years ago, right around this time I was the happiest I have ever been in my life. I am not anymore. Yet, I still feel hopeful right now. As if it is okay.
Everything happens for a reason is such a cliché and yet such a huge part of my life’s philosophy.
Chewing gum. Phone/internet. These are my addictions.
I love vegetables, but I don’t like fruits.
I will never stop to need affection and acknowledgement. Of course I known that I need to earn it. And even when I receive love and admiration even, it is never enough to fill the hollow that has been there since I was a kid.
I didn’t have a nice childhood, but I didn’t have the worst either. And yet, all the events I experienced shaped me into the girl I am now. With a healthy mom and a present dad, I would be a different woman. A man once said I have daddy issues. I don’t know. Maybe he was right.
The most romantic thing I was ever told (spoken directly to me on the phone): “As long as I have cum in my balls and a mind in my brain, I will not forget you” It’s vulgar but beautiful too.
My favourite part of me is my eyes and my lips. I also like my voice.
Sometimes, things start out one way and end another and that’s okay.
People are onions. Layers and layers need to be peeled away to get to the core. And tears are plenty.
All of this is still just a tiny part of me. I am. But you just see the fragments I chose to show.