I reject the pain. I reject the past, and the promise of the pain that the future holds. I don’t want any of this. I’m not even sure what I do want…but I sure do know what I don’t want. Pain. What does that even mean? Can it be more than just subjective? Could anyone …
Dear nightmares…… Tonight, you will not get me. I feel you, I see you creeping up from the shadows. You’ve been the forefront of my existence for too long now. Your content has been all to real…nothing short of a horror moving featuring my real life. Tonight, I won’t let the fear of you drink …
The other night was….ptsd. It was straight up PTSD mixed with alcohol and fear. I fucked it up, I was actual hot shit, I was a disaster. That’s just what this shit will do to you. The other was rough and it was brutal. It was the manifestation of all of the suppressed thoughts and …
I won’t relive the past. The present is torturous enough. The past holds too much pain. I refuse to combine the two. Accidental pressure leads to too much blood. I’m sorry. Emotional pain leads to more and more and more pain. Logic left behind, the lies of pain the only thing that remains. I upset …
It’s 1 in the morning. To be honest, I wanted to go to sleep hours ago. That’s what the physical side conveyed. But the rest spoke something different. It’s 1a.m. and we’re just now beginning the difficult conversations. Life, death, babies, houses…. All of the fortunate and unfortunate possibilities of our very near futures. Big …
Oh, alcohol. Tonight, the lies of your allure pulls me deeper. You’re the voice I hear in my head. The one that tells me more is better. That more will help. More will heal, will help us forget. I know you’re full of shit. I know that one more drink, and I’ll wake up feeling …
10:09pm (oh, side note, this series of events usually takes place closer to 12am. Tonight was early for sure. That’s why he was so excited about the actual prospect of it.) Me: I want to go to bed. Husband: Great! Let’s put the bed down and get cozy and we’ll go to bed! Me: No…I …
Tonight is shit. It hurts. We’re approaching midnight, and I just don’t feel like lying about it or dismissing it. I hate tonight. I hate this week. All I want to do is quit. I feel so fucking alone. Tonight was all of our last therapies until after January. No more PT or OT or …
I hate committing to words. I always have. I don’t have depression, I’m just fucked up. Or, I don’t have trauma, everyone goes through this shit. “I wasn’t sexually assaulted. And I definitely wasn’t raped. Recently, or for years on end in past “relationships”. I’m not suicidal, I just want to die sometimes. (I don’t …
When words don’t define you…even though they might. Read More »
This is currently the story of my life. Everything can be going…as fine as it can be, I guess, but then the same thing happens nearly every night during the rough phases. My husband wants to go to sleep. I usually agree, because I’m exhausted. But then I start procrastinating, avoiding it at all costs. …
When the nights force you to feel the pain you desperately try to avoid… Read More »