Please, don't patronize me

I, you may or may not realize, am extremely sensitive to interpersonal relationships. I rarely get attached, so it isn't a big deal when people walk out of my life. What is a big deal, however, is when they try to walk back in acting like they know me and know what is going on and try to give me all kinds of empty cliche advice. I hate to go all Maury on these girls but "you don't know me! you don't know me!'

Today, on my long long drive back to nati, I was reflecting on Highschool and all the drama that went down Sophomore year. Damn, that was a really long time ago-but, not surprisingly, it feels like yesterday. Its interesting to me that I can look back on those years and see patterns/habits forming that I still follow today. The early bases of walls, learning to walking away, using sarcasm to deflect any pain, all tactics I use with great skill today.

I'm telling my kids today.
Fuck.

Oh yeah,

I remember now.

I don't like to feel things cause I loath when my heart hurts like this.

A change.

Again.

I know that things never stay the same, but in the past year or so things to be changing at an even more rapid pace. I've never been one to describe myself as flighty, but I get the feeling that I am more recently on a very short rope. I'll only hang on for so long before I make a snap decision and a huge life change.

I don't think this is giving up, as I have recently been accused. I think it could be argued as maturity or apathy and arrogance, depending on how you look at it. I just refuse to let myself become so emotionally attached to a situation that I sacrifice my own well-being to stay.

I wonder how this will effect my future. I pray that when that time comes, I don't suffer from post-partum, but if that happens will I be so stuck in my habits that I run? Hopefully that situation would be very different than the one I am now faced with.

Though I am heartbroken about leaving, I am suspiciously hopeful for the future.

Bigger and better, La. Thats where we're heading.

These are my complaints today:

i'm cramping
my foot hurts
i'm so homesick i could cry
and i'm quitting my job.
those are my complaints to day.

Time

When one truly believes that nobody can sincerely love him (for of any reason, these are just mine), he will never believe that time is on his side. He will always believe that time will eventually tear whatever he’s built apart. He will always see the end of anything as inevitable. He will always fail in love. -Single Dad Laughing

Courage

Do you know the kind of courage it takes to reach out when you are in need?

Have you seen the heart of someone who feels completely judged by the world around her, yet turns to you with her shattered heart, trusting you with answers?

Do you know the desperation that leads to this act of trust? After something like rape, it isn't easy to achieve.


The weight of having to bear her sorrows, the flashbacks triggered by her descriptions of trauma, the impossible pain and frustration of knowing that someone else in this world is suffering through such a lonely and excruciating place is heart-breaking. But I will do this. I can't not. How do you turn away such a painstakingly lovely request?

I don't know how to fix it. I can't make it go away. I want to, deeply and with an impassioned soul, I want to. All I can do, is offer my memories, offer my pain, offer the advice given to me.

"Tell me there will be a day where I wont feel like a shell anymore?"

"There will be. I can't promise you a day, a month, or a year, but there will be."

"Its been so long, I should be over this by now."

"No. Don't say that to yourself. You are not on anyone's time line but your own. 'Everything you do is Normal'. Don't rush yourself, don't discount what you're feeling now. You are fine just where you are"


Everything. Everything I do is normal.

-Do I believe this? I'm so tired of what I'm doing. Floating. Not committing. Not getting things done. Can I tell her these things when I don't know if I even believe them?

Everything I do is normal.


Then why do we feel like such outcasts?

Worthy

1,2,3,4
5,6,7,8
1,2,3,4
5,6,7,8


My footsteps pound the pavement
The voices in my head,
taunting, berating, degrading.


You. Aren't. Worth. It.
You. Can't. Do. It.
You. Aren't. Worth. It.
You. Can't. Do. It.


Tave.


I don't hear his voice,
This is a gift,
But my heart can't let go of his words.


You. Can't. Do. It.
You. Aren't. Worth. It.
You. Can't. Do. It.
You. Aren't. Worth. It.


I know.


These thoughts are lies,
Meant to manipulate me,
Created from dust to destroy and detain.


You. Aren't. Worth. It.
You. Can't. Do. It.
You. Aren't. Worth. It.
You. Can't. Do. It.


I can't help it.
I believe him.
Him? Me? Us?



...It doesn't matter really.


I believe it nonetheless.