Sensitivity

Sensitive

adjective
1. endowed with sensation; having perception through the senses.
2. readily or excessively affected by external agencies or influences.
3.having acute mental or emotional sensibility; aware of and responsive to the feelings of others.
4.easily pained, annoyed, etc.
5.pertaining to or connected with the senses or sensation.
6.Physiology. having a low threshold of sensation or feeling.
7.responding to stimuli, as leaves that move when touched.

Some of us are born naturally sensitive, some I think are made that way due to trauma in some way, shape, or form. I have often been caught saying that people can only make you feel what you allow. This is something I say to myself when I feel out of control with my emotions, instead of the dude making me angry, I am allowing myself to become angry. What do you do when the situation has blown up to a point that you are about to explode? Allowing the situation to continue is not healthy to me, probably to others as well since I know the sensitivity is going to turn ugly sooner rather than later. Walking away is easier said than done, How the hell do you even begin to walk away from your own damn family? How to “get over” that it is that family that supposedly loves me, only cares about my feelings, and would never do anything to hurt me… (excuse me while I get sick…). I have a very sensitive stomach when it comes to bullshit, frankly it leaves a very bad taste in my mouth.

Back story time… I am going to give the reader’s digest as much as possible, some of my garbage isn’t pleasant to rehash. If there really is someone out there that feels totally and completely confused, drop a line and I will clarify (although I am still perfectly happy believing no one is reading this crap, honestly).

For the most part, I grew up as a single child. Before my mom died, I did have an older sister whom I worshiped that I saw pretty regularly (our moms tried to keep us together, so I would go to church with her parents and her and visit whenever possible). After my mom died and I went to live with my father I didn’t see her so much. Our dad was a heavy drinker and that made him not very fun most of the time. Pretty often we would drive from San Jose to Sacramento on the weekends so he could get drunk with his friends and see his other daughter. During that time, my sister was pretty much this spoiled little jerk who didn’t like me all that much, was jealous because I “got to” (read: HAD TO) live with our dad, and treated me like a second class person (some of you guys have older siblings, right?). When we moved to Sacramento, we got to see her more but because our dad was still a heavy drinker and not fun, it wasn’t that often. Fast forward through adolescence and graduating H.S. (hers) and having kids, getting married, divorced, etc. we did okay as sisters. Really it wasn’t until I went though my divorce and everyone thought I was going to kill myself that her and I actually became best friends. During my hardest moments it was her that kept me alive, mostly by never leaving me alone, calling when she couldn’t have possibly known I needed to talk, and pretty much stalking me and forcing me to get through it. It was many years after that point that she decided it was time to look up our brother and sister. In as few words as possible, I will tell you that although we knew about them, it wasn’t because our dad felt like he wanted us to know them. The reality is he is a bigger POS than we really knew at the time. He walked away from his other 2 children long before he disowned my sister and I. My other sister and brother are really awesome people, and look like mirror images of us; it is really hard not to like them.

What I didn’t realize when my sister decided to find them, she would somehow forget about me. I didn’t realize that new siblings (when you are an adult) are kinda like new pets, you forget about the old dog when you are given a new puppy… Somehow, following the excitement of having a brother and a new sister (who came with daughters, a son, and a super cute baby grandson) I got left behind. To acknowledge that my sister finding these other siblings severed the best friend tie I had finally found with her is a really huge pill to swallow. Honestly, I keep trying to tell myself that it is all a mistake or misunderstanding on my part, maybe I am blowing things out of proportion. I have never felt so damn invisible in my whole fucking life. I finally had to hide my sister on my stupid facebook because I couldn’t stand the constant happy posts about her “awesome sister” or “awesome brother- out doing awesome things…” I wish I could say this shit just started after the big fight we had, but in all honestly the only one consistent with how they treat or acknowledge me is my brother, who has been quiet, busy, and slightly stand-offish. Both of my sisters are so busy being besties they don’t see me chasing after them like “WTF”?! And I have been conditioned to being a doormat most of my life, so of course I can’t just bust out and scream and cry at them, I sit and stew. I have become so angry and hurt that I don’t want to see them. My nephew is having a graduation party that I was invited to (how nice…) and all I can do it try to find a way not to go. I even thought I had a reason, but I got my dates wrong and used it too soon. I am so fed up with the way I feel and the idea of being in a room with them for any length of time does not feel appealing at all. It is sad and normal for me to want to run away, and honestly I really wonder how long it would take for them to notice me missing. Neither party has noticed I no longer post anything to them on FB, no one has acknowledged that I don’t text or call… Just feels like no one gives a shit. I really hate feeling this way about family. Give me anyone else in the entire world for me to hate and I can be right there if needed, but damn dude my fucking sister??? Not even the “new” sister, but the damn one I thought would ALWAYS have my back. It sucks to feel like it is all wrong.

So, that is my long sister story… This is the mess that is inside my heart and has been for awhile. I just can’t figure out how to break the cycle, or even if I want to break it. I don’t even know if I care anymore to be honest. I really just want to forget I have siblings, like our dad I might cry a little on a b-day or Christmas, but a HUGE part of me wants to just cut the ties and move on. I am tired of allowing them to make me feel small and insignificant. I am tired of crying and feeling like shit. Most of all, I am tired of the one person who used to proclaim that if anyone hurt me she would come after them being the one who is hurting me the most.

Thanks for reading ❤

Daydreaming

Whenever I fantasize about the future possibilities it is usually the same theme. I envision a life where I can finally stand on my own two feet, when I can finally depend on my own damn self. If nothing, I have a great imagination. I think to be a Witch you almost have to be, a huge part of spell casting is visualization. So in theory, if I can dream it then dammit I can have it…

I am not a hiker. I love nature in every single form, but I really don’t get out much. However, I have seen pictures and I think I can say I am at a moment where I feel like I have climbed this great big tall mountain and I am now standing at the edge. I know I have to make a decision, soon since it is starting to get dark and I am out of water. I know at this point I need to jump or head back (by jump, I mean jump onto new stuff). When I was approached by the ex who wanted me back, I said to her that I cannot press rewind on this life. I have to head forward. So, I am standing here at this great big Grand Canyon size edge trying to figure out how the hell to jump with the least amount of pain. I promised honesty, so I will say that although I am not a selfish person I don’t want to hurt. I have been hurt by being here, sorry but I am through with it. About the same size as that self preservation is guilt, I know that jumping will hurt others. I hate guilt, I hate deliberately causing pain to others. So here I sit…

On that other mountain over there sits freedom. Freedom comes wearing white socks and semi baggy jeans, she has tattoos and piercings in places that make me smile. I dream about freedom constantly. Some days I can see myself sitting there next to her. I want her so much I can see it with such clarity I am shocked I can’t touch her as easily as I see. Over the years our friendship has blossomed into this thing where I swear sometimes I can feel her, like i dare to believe she thinks about me half as much as I think of her. When we talk I swear its the same for her, I swear she can hear it in my voice.

In my dream it is I that runs to you. After finally becoming free, your arms are the first ones I want to feel. It isn’t always sexual this intimacy I crave from you. Most of the time, it is just nearness, I want to sit next to you so close that I can feel you breathe. I have missed you in so many ways that just to be close would heal so many wounds. You say things to me sometimes, you make me smile and giggle and sigh… I have to try with all my might not to read into what you say, just take everything at face value. Although it has never been said out loud by me, I know you know how I feel. I know I am too obvious, no matter how hard I try to be sly I am just no good at it. I don’t want to hide how I feel, I want you to now, I NEED you to know.

I think about things I want to do with you, places I want to take you. Like, there is this spot I found during a solo river walk where you can sit by the river and no one ever comes by. It is cool and shaded and near enough to the water that you get ducks, but no people. I would go there with a little herb and my journal and let it all out and no one would bother me for hours. I imagine taking her there, sitting next to that river and just being. I don’t care if we talk or touch, I just want to be…

In my day dream, magical made up world life would be so much easier. Things that are hard to do, but right would become easier. Things you need to say would be easier said and people you need to love, well you get the picture.

I keep waiting for a sign. I get the wrong place and wrong time sign, but I want the one that points me to you. I want the sign that everything is going to work out after I jump, I know there are no guarantees in life or love. But, I just want to know you will be there in one way or another. I want to know without a doubt that all the little things that you say are safe to read in to because you mean exactly what I heard… I want to know that I effect you with what I say the way you effect me. I mean, thinking that I do and KNOWING are SO very different…

I need a plan, the only way I will ever have answers is to step out of this comfort zone and well, jump. She told me to take baby steps and I really want to take her advice. I want to call her and tell her I finally had the balls to take my walking papers. She is proud of me for graduating college? I want her to be proud of me for this. Even if nothing but friendship ever comes from us, I want to try. I want to get the hell out of this nightmare and work toward that daydream. The hard part is taking that first step… ❤

Wrong place. Right time?

There is something almost scary about realizing you might be in the wrong place. Something about actually acknowledging you are doing something that you know isn’t what you should be can be the first step toward making things right, right? Like, if I can say out loud that I have absolutely NO business being here, that should in some small way make it easier to attempt to rectify the situation, right?

Little things keep showing me this. Little signs pop up almost all the time. Some are very subtle and some are as loud and obvious as a billboard. I used to say that I was put on this journey and my goofy ass left the map somewhere, but I’m not sure that is correct. I have the map, it is open right in front of my face. Every damn step points in this direction away from where I am, and I am frozen like a bump on a log…

Ok, honesty is what is needed here, I will even include some back story. I keep telling myself this is just the rambling shit inside my head that I am getting out in order to maintain sanity, no one really reads this thing, right? So here goes, this is my truth.

I was in a very long relationship once upon a time. If I laid out every day from beginning to end with no gaps in between it lasted somewhere between 8 and 10 years. I thought of myself as married while in that relationship. It took too many separations to finally come to the grand finale where we parted ways and while I can’t speak for her, for me the whole thing was life changing. I have tried to move on, I have tried to date other women, I swear I really did try to move on… Okay, honesty again. I was shy, and scared, and I let my depression turn me into a hermit. I trolled the internet looking for friends and conversation. I drank a lot and didn’t really care about what went on around me, I was safe in my house and no one could hurt me there. I dated 4 women after my wife and I split up; the first looked too much like her (she even had a daughter that looked like my ex’s daughter), the second liked to get drunk, say really stupid shit to provoke me into fighting and then have make up sex (don’t worry, that did not go on too long), the third decided I was going to be her transition girlfriend (excuse my pronoun slip; His.) Needless to say He wasn’t a very nice dude… Oh, and lucky number 4… she was the friend who had a crush for 2 years (shouldn’t have, but I did…). The ex that went through the transition turned abusive to the point my sister had to pull me from the house because I was scared to leave, it was an extremely low point for me. I was scared of women for a very very long time. See, when my ex-wife and I would separate I would usually end up dating men. Mostly it was to make her jealous and pissed off, but MOSTLY it was because I lacked the confidence to approach a female I was in to and actually attempt a conversation. I used men when I did not want to feel, when I knew no matter how close we got a man would never get close enough to me to actually hurt me. The break up with that ex mentally and physically hurt so much that I was celibate for 2 years after the first 2 dating failures. Then, the experiences I had when I was finally ready to try just messed me up even more. In the 17 years I have “officially” been out of the closet I have only had 1 positive relationship with a female, and it wasn’t always positive.

After lucky #4, I decided I was done looking. I was going to work and maybe try to go to school and if I was meant to be with someone they better do the work, because I was not looking at all. Of course that is when I found the dude… Situations beyond my control and here we are 4 years later. I wish I could say that the way I feel today is a surprise, but it isn’t. I have felt this way since about 6 months into the relationship when that same ex-wife tried to get me back. The only reason I said no was because of dude (shit happens for a reason, huh?), if not for him my dumb ass would have happily applied the ‘Welcome’ to my forehead and went anywhere she asked me. I ended up completely ending that relationship because if there is one person I cannot be friends with it is her, she has this crazy hold on me. The dude has been doing most of the work for the last 2 and a half years. I knew then what I really know now, and still here I am. Part of me is in awe that he continues to stick around through all of the bullshit I know I put him through. Don’t get me wrong, I am a very nice person, I am a good person, but when I am done I just can’t do it anymore. I have pushed him so far away every single time he even tries to think about getting close, I just don’t get it. Have I told you about our sex life? Honest, right? It’s really bad… I have panic attacks and cry when he touches me, if he tries to spoon in the middle of the night I yell at him (in my sleep, no less. So, my subconscious is right there too), forget any sort of emotional intimacy in addition to physical. I just can’t do it. It hurts when he looks at me, it hurts when he touches me, when he is too nice I want to crawl into a hole and cry. I don’t deserve any of it, his niceness. And he deserves so much more than what I am giving, I mean shit I am giving nothing. I may as well be a maid. I cook, clean, take care of kids and pets, laundry, groceries, all that “house-wife” crap. Not because he asks me, but it has become like I am paying him back for all the shit he does for me in the only way I can. He wants my body and I would rather wash his underwear and socks… He asks me if we will ever have sex again, what the fuck am I supposed to say? I know, honesty… I just can’t do it, man. I can’t hurt him, it just feels so awful. Oh, and did I mention that I love his kids? Especially his son. I know in my lifetime the only children I will ever have will be my pets, and for the most part when I am not on the rag (sorry, maternal instincts and cravings happen about once a month for me) I am okay with that. His son is the son I will never have. I am scared of all the consequences that will come if I tell them I want to leave. I am scared I will lose my son and my family. I know I will, I will probably deserve to lose them. But, shit I went through all that before and I keep trying to tell myself that I can’t wait 10 years before doing something, because then I am NOT a nice and good person, then I am a user. That is a HUGE pill to swallow… I am using him. I love him, but I am not in love. He is a very best friend, but I know I can’t marry him, I cant keep doing this to him. Not to mention…

There is someone I want. I am not sure I deserve to even think about her, I mean it’s not fair to him. But, I can’t help how I feel. I can’t help that she is always on my mind, I can’t help that. I don’t want to help it, that is the part… I don’t want to. She asked me if he gets mad when we talk and in all honesty I replied that I don’t care if he does. I can’t help it. All the feeling I should have for him, I hold for her. It is wrong, but I can’t help it. How many times can I say that same damn sentence??? I know that things need to change, I KNOW that I need to change. My problem is how the hell do I do it without hurting all the people I promised I never would??

I claim that I don’t know what I want. It is all a lie, I do know. I want her. The hardest part is taking that nest step after all this knowing. Something has to change, it takes just one damn step to put shit into motion. I know I need to take that step, I cannot continue like this.

How I really Feel

From the time we can feel and speak we are taught what is right/wrong and what is polite/rude. We are not allowed to say “I don’t like this/that” because it is rude or “I don’t like you” because it is mean. We are not always encouraged to tell people how we really feel. When was the last time someone close to you really hurt your feeling and you were encouraged to actually tell them? In my life standing up for my feelings is highly encouraged, but unfortunately the few times I do it I still get screwed. When you are a kid and you get invited to Aunt somebody’s house for whatever occasion you just throw a fit and your parents don’t take you. What do you do when you are passed the age of tantrum? As an adult it is not always so easy to express how we really feel. Add close friends or even family into the mix and it is a whole new ball game.

My family has always been wobbly (I know, bad description, but work with me here). The first major memories I have involve living with my mom and going to kindergarten. I’m not exactly sure when things got crazy, but sometime before she died (think I was 6) I got moved around a lot until finally being given to my father. For the record, up to this point I barely knew the man. He showed up on my mom’s doorstep one day after she had called him to come visit with me. When I lived with my mom I don’t really remember being around much family. I remember being really little and her sisters and their kids and me and her living in the same apartment complex and one cousin was old enough to babysit and the other was young enough to run around and play. When I went to live with my dad it was just him and I for a long, long time. My point is, I am very used to being alone, I don’t really like crowds or being looked at and fawned over very much. When I was little my mother’s family lived in FL which meant phone calls and letters and my dad was kinda a hermit. His brother lived a fair distance away, his parents were gone, my sister was a pretty far drive too. It was him and I for the most part until I was 16 years old. My step-mom was used to frequent family get together type functions and so when they got married some of my “long silent family” became a lot closer.

I have one sister I was pretty close to when I was growing up. Her mom and my mom were victims of the train wreck that was their husband. They vowed that no matter what, their girls would know each other. When we were younger, everything was a competition. She wanted our dad’s attention, I wanted hers. As kids we never knew how to talk, both of us assumed the other had it better. To this day, there are parts of my childhood I don’t talk about with her. Once we grew up and out of the childhood jealousies we became very close, she was my right hand. When I was going through a very bad divorce and just wanted to kill myself she refused to leave me alone. She saved me more during that then she even realizes. Every time I thought about harming myself it was like she knew and she would call or text, sometimes just to say something silly or ask me some dumb question she already knew the answer to. By the time I had hung up the phone the urge to cut myself had been forgotten.

Fast forward to present times and thing have changed drastically. We got in a fight not long ago and although we made up less than two weeks later, things are still not the same. The sad part in this whole thing is that I no longer feel the drive to fix it with her. We have had little spats here and there that were usually over someone one of us was dating or some stupid misunderstanding or whatever and we were usually able to clear it up without any big issues. Those times I was usually the one to admit fault, very rarely would I go against her. It was easier to apologize and be friends then give up my sister.

About 3 years ago she found a brother and sister our father never told us about. She kinda knew about them, but neither of us knew where they could be or anything. One day out of the blue she decides she wants to search for them, and at first I am not really cool with the idea. I was truly scared to know them. I was the only kid actually raised by our father and I have some very mixed feelings about him depending on the day. Just like most things that are meant to happen, finding our brother and sister was quick. As soon as she told one person, that one person discovered our brother’s name on her Facebook and it was like a fire had been lit. All the sudden we were meeting a new brother and holy shit what an experience. Later I met the sister and again, such a moment that will live in my memory for always. Since meeting them we have gone from the looking and staring stage to comparing eyes, hair, height, weight and other genetic similarities. It has indeed been an experience just trying to make up for lost time.

In no uncertain terms is it acceptable for me to tell my sister that I feel left out, that I feel like the forgotten baby sister no one wants around because that would be mean. I can’t tell them that in all honesty my life might be better off with out any one in it. I feel so sensitive that no matter what is said, my feelings are hurt. I can’t tell them that they hurt my feelings constantly when they leave me out. I am getting closer and closer to the point where I cut the cord and become a distant relative. I toy with the idea of disappearing and not telling anyone where I am. I wonder how long it would take anyone to notice that I am not in California? I could never do that, my sister would be so mad… How many times I have wanted to move out of state, even looking at a few Universities that were not here and trying to do the math to see if I got loans and maybe scholarships could I just get the fuck out of this city and just start the hell over??? But every damn time I think, yes, yes I can get out, I can escape and run somewhere, I get that text or call or Facebook post telling me they love me and I’m the favorite baby sister and they miss my face… I feel like I know I could try harder, I could reach out more often. I just don’t. I am the type who sits and waits for others to call me, or invite me or kidnap me without inviting. When I used to have friends they knew this, ‘don’t ask, just come over’ was a standard policy when I was single and alone. My sister knows I have a habit of becoming a hermit, she knows I never text first or goddess forbid you want me to call??? I never call first. I tell new friends that I am not good on the phone. It’s silly, but I get anxiety about calling people. I don’t care who you are, if I call you without you asking then you should feel privileged because my self-esteem just does not allow that.

Today is a big day and I have such mixed feelings about the whole thing. Financially, the timing sucks. And after fighting with the family, the dude is having a hard time wanting to be friendly (but honestly so do I). I had a really hard time inviting them to the big day. It felt weird and awkward. I have no reason for feeling as I do, I think I am just tired of trying to fit in, tired of trying to act a certain way, and just tired of getting everything wrong.

This is a very long novel type post that is mostly written to get the shit off my chest. I am not sure how much longer I can keep burying how I feel. ❤

Self-realization

The road to self realization is paved in a few different things. I think you began at  some spot in your like when you finally realize you are more than just a name, more than your age or hair/eye color. You are still discovering exactly who you are, but you are at least at the point where you are aware of your self. If you are lucky, you have ONE self that you discover early and only shape and mold as you progress in age and experience. If you are lucky in different ways you change in different ways. Some of us find that we are so used to living behind a mask that we end up forgetting that we have been wearing it all this time. When finally you realize what’s really going on around you, there happen to be many obstacles between what is and what should be. I guess, if you find that you are in the 2nd group of luckies your best bet is to put on the big kid pants and make it work.

I am 36 years old. I have been out of the closet once before, I could quote a famous author “It was the best of times…” but why bother? I am a perpetual victim of fear. I try something out and if it doesn’t work, I run away and hide for the rest of my life. Once upon a time, I thought I was in love and it didn’t work out. Instead of moving on and trying again, I gave up and ran away. This has been the story of my life for so damn long, and really it is getting old. I am tired of living this lie.

I was searching through blogs yesterday trying to find some inspiration and I ran across this  blog that seriously made me stop. It was almost like I was driving along the road of life and up ahead there is a bad accident and although you shouldn’t you can’t help but look. In this case, it was so spot on I had to read it twice. This post could have been my story, maybe not the parts that happened to the author, but the basic premise.

Here is the reader’s digest version (or the points that jumped out at me): boy + girl in open relationship. Girl is bisexual and boy “allows” her to date other women (this part couldn’t be my story, my man isn’t that progressive), unfortunately she finds a woman she actually likes and boy is extremely jealous. At the time the girl’s loyalties lie with the dude so she stops seeing the chick, and it takes a lot of self discovery to realize she would rather be with Jane than Jim. This is me… I NEED to find Jane, because Jim NEEDS to find HIS Jane. The part’s of the story that resonated with me the most were when she began to sift through the signs of her changing view points and feelings toward men and women. Although she loved Jim, she had panic attacks when they tried to have sex, it made her uncomfortable when men complimented her (maybe more angry than uncomfortable is how she described her feelings), she began pushing him away to a point where simple intimacy was gone. This is where I am, and it took reading someone else’s words to realize it. I am naturally an uncomfortable, anxious, and shy person. However, with women I was more adventurous and open, way more comfortable. Men have always made me uncomfortable in one way shape or form. This is different, I have never experienced trauma from sex before. I have never been so scared of someone touching me or looking at me.

Ok, so I have a bit of a confession. I figured out I really liked girls when I was somewhere between 16 and 17. From then until 19 I kept my boyfriend and told everyone who mattered that I was straight as an arrow. My father was has serious homophobic problem so really I would have been in trouble for any thing that was different from him. Once I finally got comfortable saying out loud that I “kinda” like girls a little bit things changed drastically and at a speed that still some 20 years later has my head spinning. At 19 (for sure this time) I met my would be wife and I was ready to shout from the mountain top that I was a queer as they came, out and proud damnit; it was a very empowering time for me as a woman. Unfortunately, the woman I chose as my first was a “grass is greener on the other side” type. She cheated me every single chance she got, and like the doormat I thought I was I always let her come back. Every time we would break up I would date a guy. I began to associate boyfriend with dude who won’t hurt me (because I didn’t LET them), and only to be had when D and I were on a break. I know that looking back on things now that all this sort of makes me look like a major douche, and to be really honest at the time I was. I didn’t care who got hurt, I wanted to be with D and that was all that mattered. I would be dating some nameless guy and D would call me and cry and tell me she missed me and I would jump to dump dude. Like I said, it was’t a proud time for me…

When D and I finally were able to end it for good I had a really hard time dating women again. The first looked too much like her (even had a daughter that looked a lot like D’s daughter), the second liked to fight in order to have make up sex, third transitioned into a dude, and fourth didn’t really work out either. All in all, my confidence with dating women that WEREN’T D was pretty much shattered. I knew that I really wanted to be with a woman, but I really wanted that trust I had with the ex. I decided to adopt an open mind, not look and just see what would happen. I found the dude (because I wish to respect others and stay as anonymous as possible “The Dude” is officially the name of my S.O.) almost immediately.

Let’s see… The Dude. He’s a good guy and over the 4 years that we have been together he has gotten even better. He has great kids and he takes good care of me. I know he loves me. Shit, he tells me even if we don’t have sex he wants us to stay together. So, basically he is enabling me to continue wearing the make and using him. I have thought more about running away in the 4 years that we have been together than I ever did when I was a effed up teenager living with the POS for a father. Although I know what I need to do for my own damn peace of mind, I just can’t do it. I love his son, I love him, I don’t want to hurt either of them and I am not so isolated in my drama that I can believe I could just say ‘hey guys, I’m leaving- peace out!’ and everything could just be okay. Sooner rather than later I am going to have to make a decision on just who’s happiness is important here, and seriously how happy can you be in a relationship where your partner doesn’t want to touch you, be touched by you, or have sex with you? I feel like I am just so frustrated with making him miserable.

So, even though I have already done this about 20 years ago, I feel the time is coming that I am gonna have to get my ass outta the closet. I’m so tired of living this lie, and I just don’t want to do it anymore. As much as I really don’t want or need a knight in shining armor type to save me from my misery, in a perfect world I could have something that would act as motivation. When I met D, the only thing I could think to give her to show I really loved her was to come out to my dad. I knew that it was something I could only do once and I wanted to do it for her. I’m not saying I need that now, but damn that having somewhere to go feeling would be really nice. Knowing that the light really is at the end of the tunnel, that I am hurting someone who doesn’t deserve it for SOME dame reason that makes just a little bit of sense. The only thing I could say now, is that I really want to be alone.

I don’t know where I am headed, I know what I want and I have a pretty good idea how to get it. Trouble is, it is gonna take a lot of work and I have NO idea if it is gonna work out. I have NO idea if what I want is what I really need.

So many BIG questions…

Your Crowley Thoth Tarot Card for May 12th is The Tower

This is a bit inspirational for me… ’bout to graduate and a whole mess of change is heading my way. I don’t know that I thrive in change or chaos, I think I am like a phoenix and I rise from the burning ashes after I have set off the bombs. I am cognizant of the change, aware that it could be good and bad at the same time. I am currently in dire need of change. This gilded cage has finally become too small and this birdie has to get the fuck out and stretch these damn wings. This card reminds me that with change and chaos and destruction; a sort of rebirth can happen. In my case, a rebirth would be very good. It is high time this girl pulls up the drawers and gets it done!

#quickinspirational #changeisgood

if I push you away..

This is beautiful

Read my thoughts

 

When I push you away,
It doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay.
And if I ever want you out,
It doesn’t mean that I don’t want you around.

Sometimes I answer your questions impolitely.
And it always seems I talk to you only half-heartedly.
I may sound as if I’m always mad at you,
But believe me, it’s actually never true.

If I push you away, it doesn’t mean I want you to go
If I ask you to leave, at the same time I’m hoping you’d say “No”
My heart is full of fear so I keep pushing people away
Because I don’t think that someone would really like to stay.

I used to be attached to people I care,
There were those who made me believe they’d always be there.
Until one day, everything suddenly stopped between them and me
Even if I know I…

View original post 51 more words