I can make me hurt (Trigger Warning!)

Hurt Nine Inch Nails (live)

I can’t stop listening to this song. It makes me feel some kind of way that I can not ignore.

TRIGGER!! I used to have a problem with needles when I was in Jr. High and High School. We didn’t call it cutting back then, I don’t even know if there was a word for what I was doing to myself. I hate to admit that I used to hurt myself, I know it is sadly not uncommon. I have learned it is not uncommon around girls. I am not a unique snowflake (ha ha, Fightclub reference…).

Sorry, I got distracted… Needles. I used needles because I could explain why I needed one. Hey, I need a needle I have to hem my pants or fix this pocket or, whatever. I had a flashback the other day to being somewhere in my teens and keeping a safety pin pinned to my jeans at all times. I never talked about it, I don’t even think I wrote about it in my kid diary. It was like I knew what I was doing wasn’t “normal”. I would use the needle to rip up my skin or even scratch lines, shapes, initials, whatever. I check myself out every once in a while after a shower and count the scars.

Listening to this song… the lyrics “the needle tears the hole” have me so stuck. I feel like I got hit in the stomach.

Don’t worry, I am not in danger. I am just feeling shit. I work so fucking hard to keep my shit tucked in and the wall is crumbling, kids… I am not sure how I feel about this. I am remembering things that I had kept blocked, things I didn’t even realize were blocked.

I’m not sure what to do with emotion, no matter what it is it always feels weird. I cry at the drop of a hat (my ex used to say when she was on the rag she cried during those carpet cleaning commercials where someone spilled red wine on the white carpet, I’m in the same boat), I am prone to strong bursts of anger, I feel sad and reflexive. Like I just want to cut open my chest in front of the mirror and examine all the gooey stuff in there. Metaphorically, of course. In real life, blood and guts are icky.

I don’t know what it is that made me stop playing with needles. I know that one ex pissed me off to the point that I tried to jump back into the bad habit about 6 years ago (an answer to the why is there a triangle shaped scar on my hand), but long before that I had out grown it. I am lucky that I outgrew that habit, I know some people don’t make it that far. Some people have way more and worse scars than I do.

This song doesn’t so much make me want to, just makes me remember what drew me to it. I really hate feeling empty, I hate that I can’t process my emotions “correctly”. I hate that I can’t smile for real anymore. Dude said a few days or weeks ago that he can’t remember the last time I laughed without it being sarcastic or fake. That’s doing pretty bad, man. I didn’t have words and I still don’t. I just can’t get happy. Most of the time I feel lost and alone.

The best way I could explain to him. I don’t want to hurt myself, I promise I don’t. I just don’t have the motivation to live. I wouldn’t play in traffic, I wouldn’t ever tempt death. But there are days where I could flirt with him a little bit.

Hurt reminds me of those times, thoughts. I never listened to music then the way I do now, I never held on to lyrics like they were written for me. She taught me that. She taught me to take music and use it as my voice when I could not speak. I don’t think she knew it then, but I think she taught me how to heal myself.

As always ❤



I’m Trying 2016


I have been trying to find the words to explain why I am the way I am, I have been trying to understand myself and my actions. I have been trying to understand the reasons behind my lies. I have been trying to understand who I really am behind my many many masks.

I found this little blurb on social media this morning and literally stopped in my tracks. I didn’t even know I was looking for something to say, I didn’t know these were the words I was feeling. I didn’t know how I was feeling. I feel like this is a post I have been trying to write since the New Year.

Why did I walk away from a life that felt like home to me? Why did I ignore the inner voice these last almost 10 years? Why have I been lying to myself and everyone around me? Who the fuck am I?

Then I stumbled…

I remember so much of my former life. Things I wasn’t sure I even want to remember, things I rarely even allow myself to think about. I have only been in counseling for a short while and she has been telling me about the positive aspects of making peace with your past. Granted, she is talking about distant past but I think that this is a concept that can be applied to any stage of my life. It has taken me this long to realize that my biggest form of defense has been to tuck my tail between my legs and run for my life when shit gets too real, realizing this I think sets the stage for stopping it.

The first part: “I loved you so much I couldn’t breathe” I used to tell her I could not breathe without her. I gave her so much power over myself. I loved too much. And all she had to do was tell me she missed me. It was like some code that just took every ounce of mental power away. Every time she left I knew that I deserved better, I knew that I was just a door mat with her, but she was like a drug to me. I think I told her that too…

Once that was completely over and I knew she was never coming back I let the withdrawal take over. I knew that I needed to detox and I did. But it took the dude to realize I did not detox long enough. In knowing that I never wanted to hurt that way again, I told myself that all women were hurtful, all women were the problem. If she could hurt me, all women can and will given half the chance. Every single relationship I had after her only affirmed that thought. With the last being the ultimate nail in the coffin of my sexual orientation. By the time I started talking to dude I was so convinced I would be alone forever that I was willing to talk to anyone. I just wanted to believe that I could be loved and someone could love me back. I wanted to believe that she was wrong; I’m not cold, I’m not unfeeling, I know how to show love.

It took all this time to admit to myself she was at least partially right. I am cold, to an extent. I am unfeeling sometimes. And I do have a hard time showing my feelings. The truth is that I have to hurt someone in order to show I have feelings. I just can’t do that. I can’t hurt someone in the ways that I have been hurt. Even if I know that my inaction is as hurtful if not more so. I look up at that blurb again, and I wonder…

I try not to think about how he feels about me. When we have been able to talk to each other openly and honestly, I dance around the subject while at the same time demanding truths from him. His truths are like daggers into my heart. He is me when I loved too much.

I catch myself wondering if she things of me, wondering if she stalks me. Does she think I am happy? Does she ever think of me? Does she ever remember?

I need to start dealing with my past, and that means a whole lot of unresolved shit that deals with her. I have to deal with it if I ever hope to move on with my life. I have to get to a point where I can talk about it without feeling like my heart is going to explode. I have to believe that she was not the one, and that by her NOT being the one there is a “ONE” out there for me. That pseudo happiness I experienced by being with her for so long; I have to believe that I can have that with someone real. I have to open myself up to it, I have to give it a chance. Maybe that is my problem, I haven’t tried to be open.

Well, 2016… I am willing to try. This is “new year, new me” crap. I can’t keep running (I am getting too old for that). I have to face the fears that pushed me to the place I am and I need to be honest and decide if this is where I belong or not. And damn it, if this is were I want to be then it is high time to start acting like it. If I don’t want what I have, than it is only fair to let it go so it has a chance too. I can’t keep pretending (I’m too old for that shit too). I don’t do resolutions, its too hard trying to stick with something while life happens. But I think if I try, well maybe that is ok.

As always ❤


Twice in one day?

Ya, I KNOW I already spewed my guts earlier. But I was on my way to school and I couldn’t stop my mind. Ha ha Aquarius problems…

Have you ever felt like you are being pulled in 3 directions? I feel like who I was, who I am, and who I want to be are pulling me in pieces. So, I have been going to counseling and I don’t wanna be all glitter and flowers here, but I have had some serious revelations following my sessions. In many occasions it takes me a few days to really see something but when I finally do its kinda the mental equivalent of hitting your head on an opening door. Like BAM!

I was the kid that didn’t realize abuse didn’t have to have visible bruises and scars. I have been forced to look at my upbringing really close and try to figure out exactly what happened. I was thrown into so many situations that no one prepared me for. The feelings I was trying very desperately to express were constantly being pushed down and ignored with every damn asshole telling me how I was supposed to feel, how to act, and what to say. I wasn’t allowed to ask questions when I didn’t understand, I was shoved into a box and given minimal light and told to grow.

Guess what peeps?? I fucking Failed! How the fuck can I grow with no love, with nothing? It never occured to me that I lived in a house of cards and my emotions were like the wind that blew every fucking card down. It is no wonder my life, my emotional life is constantly in crumbles. I was never given a foundation.

I don’t want to be who I have been. It’s like now that I realize there were problems that have created problems, I can’t stop thinking who could I have been?  If mom hadn’t sold drugs, hadn’t been mental, had sought treatment, had lived. If dad wasn’t a drunk and an asshole, if he wasn’t hurt and angry, if he actually knew how to be a father or better yet if he had given me to family who actually wanted me. How different could I have been if I would have been allowed to sit in the light.

I don’t want to be that broken little bitch anymore. Maybe I shouldn’t say it, but I really don’t like her. I hate her. I don’t want to live her life anymore. I’m not saying I want to forget or pretend it didn’t happen, but I want to live like I am a child of light. I want to live in the sun. I don’t want to be broken anymore.

The thing I hve to figure out is how to move on from this. I don’t want to be the victim, I want to be the survivor. I don’t want to be embarrassed of my story anymore.

That is where I am today. I have these revelations, but what the fuck do I do them?

last thoughts for 2015

I feel like the world and I have gone through so many changes this year. I feel like I have to say it that way because I have indeed been on a journey and a lot of my shit has changed from how it used to be. However, I cannot remain self-centered and believe that I am alone in these changes. There is so much around me that is different. There are so many things that are not the same. I would like to take a few minutes to reflect on them.

Over and over again, I have to remind myself how very precious this life is. There is so much around me that clues me in and I really need to stop and smell the roses. We are never guaranteed tomorrow, these stupid shootings should tell us that. People, we are killing each other over hurt feelings. Can you imagine? Your pissed off for whatever reason and decide the best response is to go get you gun and hurt people? I don’t get it.

Don’t sweat the small stuff, and it is All small stuff. This is a big one for me to remember. Okay, so things don’t always go according to hopes and dreams. That has to be okay for now. We must learn to appreciate what we have, because to walk this road with less could be a huge difference. Dude and I may not be perfect, I know that I am a fucked up person. I should be by myself where I can’t hurt anyone. I know for a fact if I was alone things for me would probably not be as good. I mean, it is possible I might have nice things, and maybe friends, but alone. Mental illness is hard enough, but to be alone in this would have probably been the end of me. There are many times where the only thing that kept me here is I didn’t want to disappoint him or the kids, I didn’t want his kids to find me… I just couldn’t do that.

It’s going to be okay. It might not happen today or even this week, but this too shall pass. Things are not bad forever and even in the bad there can be found little glimpses of good. It make be hard to see the light in the dark, but I think if I start believing that it is there I will begin to see it.

I also think it is really important to remember that family does not always mean blood. Sometimes those people you share DNA with, really are just simply not cut out to be your best friends. And as much as it may suck, it is what it is. It takes a big step to realize that my life does not match the movie image, but for my own sanity I have to. And it is okay. It doesn’t make me a bad person or even a good person, it just makes me human.

I have to let go of my expectations. I can’t honestly say I even realized I had them. I don’t know what I thought, maybe that since I am willing to do and treat and act a certain way, others in my life should be somewhere along the same line. This is an expectation, and the truth is that it is not fair to hold people up to them. Even if I think my “expectation” isn’t out of reach, maybe for someone else it really is. Just because I think that I am honest, I can not expect others to be as well. I think I have come to the realization that I can allow people into my life and if we don’t share at least the basic moral compass, I don’t have to let it affect me. I can’t say ‘well I am this way, and if you are my friend you should be too’, that is not right. I can’t expect people to call, be honest, give a shit, be kind and helpful just because that is how I see myself.

There will come a day when I am ready to cut those ties that bind. I know that it is getting close and it is coming to a point where I know it is a must. I know that in order to show the love, I really have to do the right thing. I cannot continue on this road. My actions or lack of action hurt a lot of people. This is not recent or confined to one person. I have pushed a lot of people away and then put up this great big wall and just made it so difficult for anyone to get through. And then to make matters worse, when you don’t show up with the wrecking ball and dump truck to try to knock that wall down I get pissed off. This is part of that expectation thing, I think.

I am so very sorry it took so many years for me to begin to realize the issues I have. I am beyond sorry for all the pain I have caused, to the people I have made believe you weren’t good enough. Sorry is not enough. I am a mental mind fuck barely held together with hope. I want so many things, I want the love and rainbows all sprinkled with glitter, I just don’t know that I believe in it. I tell myself how fucked up I am, maybe that is part of my problem, like am I trying to convince myself?

I can’t stop the desire to run away. The fact that I realize it as a defense mechanism does not take away from the fact I really really want to go somewhere. I just want to be happy, but I am starting to realize that until I can actually define what happiness is I am fooling myself. This is why they say you cannot love someone else until you love yourself, if you don’t know what love is how could you possibly give it to someone?

As usual I have vomited a whole lot onto this page and given it over to others in an effort to keep myself accountable. Also, in an effort to remind myself that I am not alone in my misery, I know others have it worse. I realize that life is not a contest to see who has it better or worse. There is no prize.

As always, thank you for reading ❤

Untitled for now

I have tried glue, staples, and a neele and thread but I can not keep this shit inside. I feel like I am drowning in my emotions. I am so overwhelmed with my head. I have buried ME inside my head, I am just an empty shell. If I keep going with school I can “check out” just enough to look like I am functioning. I really feel such a strong urge to scream, I  am choking on it.

I have had such a surge of memories lately. I don’t know if it’s because the super blood moon, eclipse, mercury in retrograde or Ileana is desperate for release. I feel electrified and so pent up, caged, locked, no door, no windows; just a fucking box.

I need help. I promised old habits would stay dead, but I find myself just scratching at my skin in old places that burn and itch. I have been staying away from sharp objects. The urge is there, I won’t lie. Its screaming at me, but I will not give in.

October is Depression Awareness month. Watch for signs and get help. I need help.
Why doesn’t it bother me that I opened my relationship?
Why is it “ok” that I am in a relationship with absolutely NO intimacy? No sex? I do not allow him to touch me. What the fuck is wrong with me?! Why am i doing this to him? To me? How the fuck do i stop this train? I REALLY want to get off!

I am so locked in this emotion I cannot think clearly. I am so angry and then so very tired. If someone tried to hurt me I do not have the strength to fight.
And I feel so fucking alone. How did I get this isolated? I look around and I am in the center of strangers.

I don’t know about you, but I need help. I can’t live like this and I sure as hell don’t want to die yet.
I think my purpose in sharing this is we are not alone. This space allows me the freedom to get this shit out.
Thank you

So, this is what happened…

The worst part of this post is figuring out exactly how to start. I know it has been awhile, I owe an update. But, oh man… I need to talk.

Yesterday… Dude actually felt like talking, actually wanted honesty and openness. I couldn’t deny him anymore, I was too tired to get mad.

We actually sat down and talked or planned out what happens next. He wants to get laid, I guess I can understand that. I guess I can realize how “not normal” it is to be in a relationship and not want to be touched, not want to fuck, not want even a single scrap of intimacy. I know that I am broken, I know that I need help. I want something, I am just not sure it exists out there. I just want to be happy, that is what I keep telling myself. I just want to be happy, like a mantra I keep repeating over and over… What the fuck does it even mean to be happy? To want happiness? Would I even know what “it” is if I was looking right at “it”?

I can tell jokes, and side-step the reality of what goes on inside my head, but the reality is I am fucked up. I can say it, I can write it, I feel it within every fiber of my being that I need help beyond writing this blog. I don’t want to be broken anymore.

He tells me that his biggest ear is I am going to get my degree and leave him, I told him that the reality is my MO is running, shit has gotten rough and mentally I am running. I have shut down and locked myself up so tight that I can’t function. I just want to run away. I keep saying that my problem is that I am pretending to be into a guy, but I am “almost” positive that if I was with a female this issue would still be alive and kicking.

I realize that yes, I have been through shit in my life. I realize that most of it has been unpleasant. The problems stem from the fact that I have not dealt with any single issue or unpleasant thing that has happened. I said this to dude last night: I was hurt by guys, I started dating women, I was hurt by one woman, and I started dating guys again. I don’t do anything without reason, I knew why I was with a dude. I was hurt and did not want to be hurt again. It was easier to blame ALL women instead of THAT ONE woman. I have only barely dealt with my mother’s death, my father’s abandonment, being cheated on, being raped, miscarrying… the list goes on. Wanna know the thought I fell to sleep with last night? Why did I “allow” myself to fall for Superman? Anyone wanna guess? Let’s look at it for a minute… Superman lives in Texas, I live in CA. I don’t have a car, so I can’t drive to her. I don’t have a job, so I couldn’t buy a plane ticket to go visit her. Do you see it? How easy it is to love someone you can’t in reality have. I do; it’s like a neon sign. Of course, I would give her my whole and entire heart. She is “unavailable”. Even before Lois Lane and her became “official”, the distance between us makes her unavailable no matter what. So, it’s easy to love her, feels great that she loves me back. But the reality of what that love actually is, even though I can clearly define all of the labels and stipulations; the reality is heart breaking. I set myself up for failure and then blame someone else when I get hurt. Told you I am fucked up.

So, I don’t pretend to know what happens next. I was waiting all summer to end so that I could request help from my school and now that I am in school I make every single excuse possible not to walk into that building and ask for help. Now, I am at a stand-still. I keep saying I just want to be left alone, but that doesn’t really solve my problems or “fix” me either. I feel so isolated and alone. Even while standing in a full room, I feel locked in this box where I am looking out just hoping that someone will notice me. I just really want someone to notice me.

As Always…<3

WTF is “Queer”??

So usually I am not a fan of labels.  I mean honestly, other than Witch, Woman, Irish, Pagan, and my “government name” how I define myself is too complicated to throw a sticker on it and label it one thing over another. That is the real truth of why I am Pagan versus Wiccan. I don’t want to fit in a box and be forced to conform to someone’s idea of what “that” is supposed to be. I want to make up my own rules and definitions of ME as much as possible. 
But… lately this word “Queer” just strikes me as SO fucking RIGHT. In my mind, queer means different, weird, off or odd. This fits in my “no box” world. Unfortunately, not labeling can be lonely.  If I am talking to a female, how I define my sexuality comes out so fucking complicated. I don’t want to be that complicated bitch, she is lonely.
The fact that I am in a “situation” with the dude, regardless of the lack of sex, the very fact that I have a man at home takes away the “lesbian” label that I was always so at home and comfortable with. Yet, at the same time… if you put me next to a male and female who BOTH want me, sorry dude she’s the one.
I have had good relationships with men and women, so I just don’t fuckink know what to call myself.
It’s not like I want a relationship with anyone, but one of my goals for this year was to get reacquainted with my gay community. I am sad to report that I am only a tourist. I was too uncomfortable with the label to even try to reach out. Idk if it will be easier to stand up and say “I’m Queer!” But… maybe this label is just the push I need to get the fuck out of the closet once and for all.
As always… ❤