2019

It's been hard. 

No one knows to what extent it's been. 

I finally spoke up to someone a few days ago about it. 

I've never felt "better" since my overdose in 2006...

I feel like I'm literally just coasting.

Going through the motions from day to day. 

I'm far from being okay.

Just because I'm not trying to kill myself doesn't mean I'm not depressed.

Just because I'm not cutting myself doesn't mean I'm not depressed. 

I just don't care anymore. 

I feel like I've given literally everything I have to no avail 

No one would be able to look at me and know any of this... I have learned not to show it but internally I'm a mess. No amount of antidepressants could make me feel any better... transcranial magnetic stimulation did not help. Nothing has really helped. 

Every time I start counseling I have to change counselors because they either relocate or quit or who the fuck knows. I'm tired of all of it. 

I feel so empty.

People never understand that "I'm glad you're still here" doesn't make me feel better.

Telling me I'm pretty open beautiful or whatever doesn't make me feel that way. I still feel exactly the way my mother engrained into my brain for me to feel. Like a worthless useless piece of shit. I don't care who tells me different. I can't feel different. 

Mom

I wonder how you got to be the hideous creature I know as "mom"
What made you so full of disdain...
I desperately needed your love and attention but instead it was beatings and neglect.
You even admit to not hugging me or telling me you loved me growing up...
It is far too late to make up for it.
You planted the seed that blossomed into never ending self loathing.
Remember the times you used to lock me outside in the yard in nothing but my underwear as "punishment"
Remember the time you told me if I wanted to kill myself that "I knew where the sharp knives are"
You may as well had done it for me
The years of feeling alone...
The times as a child I was forgotten about and left behind at places...
The times you chose my step father over me
You did nothing to protect me
You did nothing to make me feel like I was loved or important to you
The times when child protective services had to get involved
The embarrassment and shame of them taking photos of me as documentation...
I still get flashbacks of the time I was just screaming in the car when his hand was on your throat
I could literally go on for days...
All these things have left such a scar that I don't understand how I've managed
And you tell me I don't need counseling
I honestly wish you understood even a fraction of what you have done to me
But you live in a world where you're just in denial enabling an alcoholic and angry at everything...
I know you won't ever change but I can't help but wish you could be the parent that I so desperately wanted
People always say "but it's your mom" like no matter how bad things are I have to let you just tear me down but I'm tired... I am so tired of fighting against your chaos and and control even if you are my "mother"
Thanks Mom... because of you I feel fucked up beyond fixing...all because I wish I had a rational explanation for you being the way you are but I don't. I can't make you love me the way that I want. I don't know if I can keep your toxicity in my present day.
I am so over this shit.
I am tired of beating my head against this wall.

What March Was To Me

Last month incredibly difficult

I lost my grandfather and everything felt so surreal

and still feels that way.

None of the close calls felt real

ever.

The time he had open heart surgery and had a heart attack on the table.

The kidney transplant. 

The multiple times they went back in after that. 

The first go round with cancer. 

None of that seemed real to me. 

None of that actually hit home. 

Despite the phone calls, and the photos.

It wasn't real.

I still can't believe it.

How could this have happened.

It was expected and yet so unexpected.

I told myself that this would be the last time I would get to see him

I didn't BELIEVE it.

I couldn't. It was not real!

I just sat there in the room thinking...

how does someone just not come back

I've made it this far and haven't had this experience

Is this reality...

December

She lays in his bed smoking a cigarette thinking...
It isn't going to be enough until she is broken.
Broken and lost everything.
Is the sex really worth it?
With a man who could give two shits about her?
But no...he validates her.
He spanks her ass and strokes her ego.
Petting her like the good little kitty she is.
Letting out a soft yet meaningful purr.
Yeah.
She don't know any better.
Somehow the void needs filling.
Somehow enough has to be enough.
But when...

B

If I was to have written back...

B-

It's hard for me to imagine you as the monster the media portrayed you to be. 

I find it sad the predicament even if I don't know all of the details. I know all of what was told to me by you mostly, what little bit of insanity that was told by her and practically nothing from any of your family. 

Your one aunty did say she appreciated that you had me as a friend. 

The reason you can't reach me is because I changed my phone number for personal reasons. I honestly forgot that there would be a chance you'd be trying to call even if I was expecting letters. 

In answer to your question I'm doing fine, I wish I could say I was doing better but I'm not feeling it right this minute. I haven't started working in a funeral home yet. I'm still doing the same lil job I've had for a minute now it's just what is working for me right now. 

I'm also in a recovery program trying to mend the physical and emotional damage I've accumulated and trying to learn how to be a spiritual person.  

I'm grateful for it. I hope you're as well as you can be and that you're staying out of trouble...seriously. I know how you are. I  mean staying out and away from trouble also as in how you got where you are to begin with. 

It's a hard lesson to learn but are you  really wanting to stay in there forever? I should hope that if and when you get out that you're able to make better choices. 

I will keep you in my prayers. 

Your friend, 

Renai

---so, the feelings addressed in the letter I purposely would choose not to address (because it wouldn't be me if I did) I also would hate to think that I'm responsible for crushing those feelings...although verbally I do it no problem. I really feel so much pity for him but I am not a power greater than God therefore I can not fix another person. I can offer to be of service but that is all. 

It makes me sad but it's exactly what is intended to be. That being said I will try to turn it over and go to bed.

How

I wish it could all instantly be fixed that admittance was all that was needed to fix it all.

Now I'm trying to figure out which 12 step program is the one I need to be working on...

So many issues all from a fucked up childhood.

I want to fix myself. I want to fix myself more than anything else.
Self hatred is a bitch especially when it's laid out in front of you by someone else like, "LOOK! Look just how much you hate yourself!...Look just how much you HATE yourself even now without even realizing it! LOOK! JUST LOOK AT IT ALL!"

Forcing your eyes wide open at the mercy of empty emotions.
The unfortunate childhood traumas that we sadly recreate in order to feel safe...how the fuck do you fix such a mess?

Such a damned catastrophe.
I'm questioning myself.
I know I need to undo the past to heal but how can I when it's all I have ever known.

They say control issues stem from being helpless in a situation we had no control over as a child and it led to over compensation...the attempt to control so many things in part.

It's all so fucked. 

I fear coming to terms with feelings that I have ran from. Feelings of hurt...

The PTSD I had no idea I even had...

How do I fix this...

How do I fix it when I don't have support from anyone around me...(not that that's unusual)

How can I possibly get better and be healthy and have healthy relationships with others?

How
Can
I 

30 days

The depressed version of myself.
Broken. Lifeless.
30 days, somehow I have made it 30 days but I'm not happy.
I'm not happy to be here.
Recovery is a bitch and I feel alone.
I have reached out for help only to be pushed away, turned away,  ignored
Where do you go when you're in it feeling alone
I want to satisfy this need.
The addiction is comforting.
The addiction is my only friend.
I can let all else go.

Like a mountain shaped like a spike driven right through my chest. Arms flailing back with gravity.

Isolation. Isolation is my friend too isn't it.
Ugh it doesn't fucking matter.