It's not who you were, it's who you are.

Dori. Twenty-something. Always something quirky to say. "If they're words from your heart you scream twice as loud." - Dave Grohl


You can find my Incubus blog here:
morningrenades.tumblr.com
Posts tagged "Personal"

Usually absolutely nothing. If I’m on the rag, nothing but panties. But if I get too cold, I will throw on a t-shirt. But normally I really want to be as comfy as possible and that really can only happen in your birthday suit.

First time I have ever said this to anyone. And I do wear sleep/loungey stuff when I am downstairs. If I don’t have to get up to go anywhere, I sure as shit will not get all dressed up, so I wear sleep pants and a tank or t-shirt.

I don’t know why I felt compelled to post this anywhere, it is really only blog worthy, because it’s a frickin’ online diary. I have handwritten ones as well. But typing is just, well it doesn’t wear your your arm out as much as a pen does.

Random thought number: 56738374937 coming to you straight from the ole noodle. Back to our regularly scheduled program.

So a week ago, I turned twenty-nine. How in the hell did that happen so fast?! One day you’re twenty-one and the next you are teetering into your thirties going well…fuck. All that peace I had felt has now given back way to all the piss and vinegar that is still in my body. I must purge. My psychiatrist instructed me to do so, by having a journal or even write down in my phone. I told him I have a blog and he was pretty stoked on that.

He thinks it’s important after you’ve written something tangible, to  go back and read exactly how I was feeling at that moment in time. And he’s right.

I am currently desperately trying to get rid of the emotional toxins. No more toxic people or relationships. I do not exist just for people to use me or treat me like I am a doormat. I feel like there is a fucking bullseye painted on my back some days. As my therapist says, this is my one chance at life and why should I let anything/anyone make me feel like I shouldn’t be here.

I will once again regain inner peace and it will be even better because I worked so hard to gain the fruits of my labor. 

Thank you to all who read this. It’s hard putting yourself out there, y’know?

I have finally found my inner peace. I know that I have a long road ahead, and there will be setbacks. However, I know I will achieve my dreams, I am standing up for myself.

Thank you, Universe.

Sometimes I wonder if you ever think about me. Because sometimes I think about you. It’s funny how the person who said he’d never leave no matter what, left. The psychological damage has been done. Now I am trying to pick myself up and heal. After what went down and how it went down, I don’t know if I can love or ever even trust someone again.

I loved you unabashedly. I was always there for you, as you grew increasingly distant, because you didn’t have the balls to tell me, you didn’t feel the same. I wish I could get the two years you stole from me back. I don’t miss being in love with you.  I miss our friendship, but I know we could never be friends. I would always have trust issues with you. 

I am slowly working to get over you, it’s taking a lot of therapy with a lot of setbacks. Although I wish you well, I am still very angry with you and very hurt.

I know you will never read this and even though my blog is a public thing and I even have it linked on all my social media, I doubt you even miss me or think about me. 

Now that I have vented, I am awfully tired, because I was (and still am) crying. I can sleep now. 

I can’t believe how hard it is to even grab a toehold of my life. I kept this a secret for over a week, but I attempted suicide again. I am very lonely. I don’t have many friends and I don’t have a best friend anymore. Which I am trying to get through ever since she told me that I was basically the reason and source of her feeling like shit. I don’t need that in my life.

But I can’t tell you that I lie awake at night, just wishing I had someone to talk to and so many take it for granted. I cry myself to sleep so often that my eyes are are swollen and puffy.

I am not sharing this to get pity. Fuck pity and the shitty horse it rode in on. What I do hope is that somebody, somewhere will look at this and know that they are not alone in how they are feeling.

My psychiatrist wants to see me weekly. He is so worried about me. I also see my psychologist once a week as well.

Thank you to those who actually care. It means more than you know.

I was looking through my old Incubus concert picture albums here on the Mac. I was thinking how in an instant your life can change. One moment you are 22 and relatively carefree, retaining gainful employment and having lots of friends to do things with and having, what I thought, a best friend who was like a sister to me.

Cue six years later and everything has changed, you have lost the most important man in your life and it makes you question everything. Am I doing it right? What would Dad think of how I’m doing. Sometimes I miss him so much my heart actually hurts. Like right now, I’m typing this through tears. It’s okay to cry every now and then about something like this. But this is not what this blog post is about.

While I was looking at these pictures and the girl who was with me, I realized that I don’t think I even knew her in the first place. Just like I didn’t know myself then.

Right now I’m listening to the Sons Of The Sea Compass EP, I refuse to download anything or even listen to anything from the new album, until I can buy the vinyl next week. Have to wait for my paycheck. I want to discover it for the first time on my very favorite medium.

Anyhow, my mindset paints a very different picture now. Things are beginning to fall into place and for once I am not terrified of moving on. Would I like to lose these pesky extra pounds? Would I like to be on less medication? Would I like to understand life better? Yes to all. But only now, it’s not the end all, be all of things.

I am finally comfortable in my skin and it’s something I had to come to conclusion on my own, with lots of help from music. Especially Incubus and Mr. Boyd’s new music.

And finally I know what I was put here to do; help other people. So I am giving myself until I turn 30, which is a year and three months away, to get myself in really good mental shape. I’m in the right direction :) And then I am going to nursing school. Dad always wanted me to be a nurse and all I want to do is help people. It’s my very favorite thing to do.

My mom had vertigo for two weeks so I was helping her then. Then she had an interstim trial for a bladder pacemaker and had to stay in bed and boy I learned what it was like to run a household. I cleaned, cooked and catered to mom’s needs…AND I LOVED IT! I felt like an adult again and not a scared little child.

Transformations are not always bad, so is moving on and it’s time.

So I ordered a pizza so my mom didn’t have to make dinner tonight, she’s not really feeling all that well. So then my brother calls me a “lying sack of shit.” You know what, I really DO NOT appreciate being called a sack of shit, and a lying one at that. 

Both he and mom said something about  spending more money,  and I know I am supposed to be saving, but I was really just trying to help, I swear. Nothing against my mom, I’m not mad at her. I’m just really pissed off at my brother.

Nothing makes me feel worse than being called a sack of shit because someone basically called me that who used to be close to me. And that is as far as I am going with that story.

Welp, Martha My Dear just came on Spotify and that makes me feel all kinds of happy. DId you know that it’s about Paul’s old Sheepdog, Martha? I think that’s cute. But I still think Paul’s a fox.

I am at a loss. It’s been two years now and I should be over it. But the truth is, I still miss him. I still have feelings for him. A small part of me will ALWAYS love him.

I really want to get over this and I have tried so many different things. What makes it worse is I lost one og my best friends. And there is NO attempt to connect. He promised me over a year ago saying he would explain everything. He never did.

However he and my other best friend (she wants nothing to do with me either.) were talking about it and me the entire time. Whatever.

And if she sees this she will just think I am being melodramatic and that everything in my perspective is skewed.

Not true. I will admit thay there are some emotions inside me are back asswards; some of them are jagged. But I know that. I know that I have been trying for a very long two years to get over this love shit. But at the end she just stopped being supportive and blamed me for shit that wasn’t even my fault.

I wasn’t going to write any of this for fear of their feelings, but they so obviously don’t care about mine. Also I highly doubt they even visit my blog anymore. If they do I have no remorse for the things I have said this morning.

Jesus Christopher Christ, I can’t wait until Wednesday and me and my therapist can go through this for the umpteenth time. I just need to talk to him. I gotta go back to weekly appts, instead of biweekly appts.

For anyone who actually read this, I commend you.

Have you ever had to pee so bad that you could bearly move; and when you do get to the bathroom to void your bladder it is damn near orgasmic?

All I kept saying was “Ahhhh…ahhhh…ahhhh…ahhhhhhhh.” it felt so good. I am sure I am not the only one who has experienced this.

Have you ever looked at someone and wonder how you ever could have been in love with them in the first place; and yet still miss them at the same time?

rosecoloredfog:

I can hear some words, but I can’t do anything with your easy words.

Honest to God, I feel like I am dead inside. I do. I don’t understand love, apparently I don’t know how to love the “right way”, or my love isn’t enough, I care too much, I give too much. I don’t even know what to say really. 
I’m terrified of accepting love, because I don’t know if love is real anymore. I loved so fucking hard in 2011. My first real, ‘Holy shit! I’m in love.” We haven’t spoken since December 2011. And I am trying really hard not to care anymore. It’s almost like a subconscious thing now. I have really weird dreams with him in them.
I can’t even keep friendships alive. I haven’t slept in 24 hours. I’m feeling suicidal and having self harm thoughts. I am not going to do anything because my mom has all sharp things locked up. 
I just feel so alone, this was not how it was supposed to be. And it really makes me miss my daddy. He would be really good to talk to at this point. He always knew what to to say and do. I miss him so fucking much. More than anyone could ever imagine.
I witnessed pure, true love in my home growing up. I was raised in a loving family. My parents were married until my dad passed away. They were married 35 years. I just want something like that. And I keep thinking, I’m 28, my twenties were shit. I don’t think I can take another decade of suffering, I know I’m gonna have to work at it. And I’m trying as hard as I can right now and as little as that looks to other people…I AM FUCKING TRYING WITH ALL MY MIGHT!
And it would appear from the outside that maybe I’m not trying as hard as I could be, but that’s not the case, I go to therapy every week. I do everything I am supposed to. I take my medications, my many, many medications.
Oh yay, I’m bawling now. I didn’t mean to spew all this out, but it is my blog, no? This isn’t directed at one singular person, I swear. It’s about my life and what and how I am trying to fix it and how I feel.

rosecoloredfog:

I can hear some words, but I can’t do anything with your easy words.

Honest to God, I feel like I am dead inside. I do. I don’t understand love, apparently I don’t know how to love the “right way”, or my love isn’t enough, I care too much, I give too much. I don’t even know what to say really. 

I’m terrified of accepting love, because I don’t know if love is real anymore. I loved so fucking hard in 2011. My first real, ‘Holy shit! I’m in love.” We haven’t spoken since December 2011. And I am trying really hard not to care anymore. It’s almost like a subconscious thing now. I have really weird dreams with him in them.

I can’t even keep friendships alive. I haven’t slept in 24 hours. I’m feeling suicidal and having self harm thoughts. I am not going to do anything because my mom has all sharp things locked up. 

I just feel so alone, this was not how it was supposed to be. And it really makes me miss my daddy. He would be really good to talk to at this point. He always knew what to to say and do. I miss him so fucking much. More than anyone could ever imagine.

I witnessed pure, true love in my home growing up. I was raised in a loving family. My parents were married until my dad passed away. They were married 35 years. I just want something like that. And I keep thinking, I’m 28, my twenties were shit. I don’t think I can take another decade of suffering, I know I’m gonna have to work at it. And I’m trying as hard as I can right now and as little as that looks to other people…I AM FUCKING TRYING WITH ALL MY MIGHT!

And it would appear from the outside that maybe I’m not trying as hard as I could be, but that’s not the case, I go to therapy every week. I do everything I am supposed to. I take my medications, my many, many medications.

Oh yay, I’m bawling now. I didn’t mean to spew all this out, but it is my blog, no? This isn’t directed at one singular person, I swear. It’s about my life and what and how I am trying to fix it and how I feel.

Laying alone, staring at the ceiling, wishing I had someone to talk to.

Long, rough day. I feel like I could sleep, but at the same time, I can’t.
I just feel like I’m in a black void and I have no inclination on how to maneuver myself out. I suppose it will just take time.

I’m just tired of waiting, tired of trying to get my meds just right to right the chemical imbalance in my brain.

I am going to try and sleep now. Hopefully that makes me feel a little bit better.

Thank you dear followers for listening.

All it takes is one fight with your mom to make all your insecurities come raging out. Yeah, I probably should have done the dishes, but I’m having cramps and I feel like shit.

I saw my therapist today and he taught me self hypnosis via guided imagery. I have dabbled with that before in the hospital, but I want to start meditating and this is similar. We talked about me being lonely, feeling like I have nobody to relate to and many other topics. I hadn’t seen him in two weeks.

But I get home and I’m okay for a little while and then mom starts in on me until I blow up at her, which I shouldn’t do, because she is probably the only person I can talk to anymore.

So now I lay here bawling like a baby, uncontrollably. I am just gonna take my nighttime pills and go to bed.

Fuck my life.

I think my current depression is contributing to this splitting headache. Yet, unhappily, I am wide awake

Thinking about things I shouldn’t think about. I’m going to have a fuck of a lot to discuss with my therapist next week.

I am not going to say why I am so depressed because I don’t want to hurt or embarrass anyone. I will say that I don’t understand, but then again I will probably never will. All I know is I won’t let someone else get the best of me.

…or at least I am going to try not to.
After airing these grievances, now I will try to sleep. Hope I am successful in my attempt.