life lessons

It happened to me.

He says he’ll leave me if I cut my hair.
So I wear it longer on the days I see him.
When all I do is hide behind a curtain of hair to hide every scar I am feeling.

He doesn’t like it when I wear that color. It reminds him of her. So he bans me from wearing it in order to please him. I don’t hesitate. I don’t say no. I just do as I am told. To avoid an argument. To avoid the words that he holds still and strongly behind his tongue.

I am afraid to speak at times. The outcome outweighs the lasting effects of anything I could ever say. I don’t know myself at times. I was a smart girl. I was a strong girl. Now I am letting someone else dictate my thoughts and actions.

I don’t know who I am anymore, I tell myself.
I am not me without you, I say out loud.

It’s not the fists I am afraid of. It’s this unseen power a person can hold over you with the mountain of words that follow. How easy it is to say how you feel and mean what you say. How easy it is to cut down a person without giving it a second thought.

I found myself saying that I’d wish he’d hit me. Something to show the world of the vile person he was. Create the villain among the sinners. All they see is my reactions to every one of his actions. All they see is my skin burning red and my tongue lashing out at everyone that defies me. All they see is my anger and his calm demeanor. Because he was always too cool and too good of a person to hurt people. He was always the cool guy in his nice kicks. He couldn’t hurt a fly they’d tell me. How I wish he’d hit me just to prove them wrong. Just to show them that I was right and they were wrong. Then all these feelings would be real not under the surface.

People always say “That would never happen to me”. I hate that. As they see a girl cover her face or hear a story of a girl who just couldn’t take it anymore. They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t know what it’s like to hide from your friends and family. To pretend your okay when your whole world is falling apart. How it feels to cut your arm in places because the words were too big of a burden to keep to yourself. So you punish yourself for being the sad expectation of who he wanted.

I was the dead weight he refused to carry, he’d often said. If I was skin and bones he would love me more. Hold me tighter. I believed him. I was stupid and I believed him.

I used to say “It would never happen to me“. That I would be one of the lucky ones to fight until my hands were red and my throat was raw. They don’t know that sometimes when a man loves too much they just ignore you. Tell you how worthless you are. How every time they see you it makes them sick. They don’t know how sometimes it’s more than physical. That words have a way of leaving bruises and scars on every inch of your skin. But they’ll never see it. They’ll never know.

They’ll never know that the reason you stopped dating is that you hear his voice in the back of your mind. That nobody will want you after he has had you. That nobody will ever love you as much as he had loved you.

Nobody.

It would never happen to me, they’d say.

But it happened to me.

Tracy, CA. 2015
#ThisishowIletgo

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Sorry for the things I said when I was drunk.

I don’t know why I say the things I do. Or if I mean them to begin with. The little green monster comes out to throw everything upside down. Throw salt on all the wounds, to feel bitterness through the sweet. Sometimes I just want to say sorry for the words that slur out wrong. The words that come out in anger instead of love. I wouldn’t be so bold if it wasn’t for things beyond my control. Wouldn’t be so bold if it wasn’t for every last sip of this never ending cup. Its the liquid courage that makes me so courageous. The magic feather of bravery inside every bottle, can, or glass.

How much of what I say is really how I feel inside. How much of what I think is based off of ignorant bliss, hidden inside every tall can or glass. I cannot be this crazy. I cannot be this truly hurt. I cannot be so brave in my skin when I am frightened by my actions. If I mean what I say, what does it mean when I’ve had a helping hand at this.

I don’t mean everything I say, do I?
Not every word of it.
Maybe I do.

I can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by my actions. A simple drink can turn to three or four, and you find yourself telling secrets to people you shouldn’t. Sometimes I don’t want to keep so many secrets. Sometimes I just want to write them all down for everyone to see. I want to say “I miss you” when I can’t bring myself that sense of honesty. With this drink I feel a powerless power. A sense of normalcy amongst all the crazy conservative feelings. I could do anything, say anything, and yet, I find myself wishing that I hadn’t. I don’t like the way my drink tastes so bitter with my own sour thoughts. Yet, I polish off this drink and beg for more just like it.

You don’t realize how much you drink until you stop.  You don’t realize what you’ve said until the flashbacks come back to haunt you. Nostalgia has a funny way of coming back to remind you of things you’ve long forgotten. In a familiar song, in a familiar scent, in a familiar drink, as you watch yourself continue to drink to forget. But I never forget. Everything always comes back, right after I said it wouldn’t hurt anymore. I watch my demeanor change from bad to worse. Watching how my speech changes and watch how easier the words go from my tongue to my lips. Its my actions I want to reconsider, its my words I want to forget. Its everything I’ve said that I can’t help but apologize for. We all want to be accountable for our actions. We all wish we could take back all the nasty things we’ve said.

Maybe I truly am sorry for all the things I have said when I was drunk. In the end what I have said will finally set me free. Allow me to be less bitter, allow me to be less hateful, allow me to stop being such a fucking bitch. Liquor doesn’t make monsters, it just helps the monsters be more vicious. I am tired of being a monster. I dedicate this last drink to you. This last moment, this last taste, everything. I am sorry if I have ever hurt you. I am sorry if I said any nasty things about you. Above all, I am sorry if I was never sorry to begin with.

I am sorry. I truly am.

12.13.2009

 

Better for myself.

Do you ever reach that point in your life where you just want to be alone? Detach yourself from everything and be truly alone. Leave the comforts of dependency and seek comfort in solidarity. Lately, I have realized I can’t do things alone. Not that there is anything wrong with that, it’s human nature to seek comfort in others. But lately I find myself detaching from everything I believed I enjoyed and trying to find how to do things on my own.

If I have to be really honest, I hate doing things alone. Hate it. This anxiety of going off into the world and doing things by myself frightens me. Which is the reason why I put my dependency on many people. None of it is wrong, its good to be surrounded by good people. Lately, I just need a moment. A moment to myself, to be alone, do things by myself and see what happens. You don’t know who you truly are until you are faced with hours of being alone. For the past couple of months I watched myself depend on the approval of people in many aspects of my life. Whether it be in my personal life or professional life, I needed this stamp of approval from everyone. I don’t know how I got this way. Have I always been this way? This desperation of a person that seeks the approval of everyone? I don’t know what it is, but it frightens me. This need to be someone to prove to everyone else that I can be something.

I don’t have anything to prove to anyone anymore. Even lately I don’t even know what I should be proving to myself. The reality of life is that I am growing up. I don’t want to be so public with everything I do in my life. I don’t want to show everyone what I am doing. I don’t want people to know where I am going. Life isn’t one big “who can do it big and better” competition. Somewhere in the past few years I lost sight of that. When did the little screens in front of us, become more important then human interaction? I hate it. It’s a popularity competition to seek the approval of the people in the screens we see before us. I am just tired of it. Why do I care what people think of me? Why do I care if you like me or you don’t?

Lately, I haven’t felt much like myself. I have felt withdrawn, sad, angry, anxious, all for feeling alone. I never used to be that way. I could spend hours doing things that I loved without the comfort of other people. I find myself getting angry at people I shouldn’t be angry at. I hated being alone because being alone meant finding out who I really was alone. When did I stop liking myself that being alone with myself is a burden? The more that I grow up the more I realize that everyone is on their own hustle. Everyone is growing up and doing things on their own and I feel stuck. You start taking things personally that maybe you’re the problem. Instead of talking to people, I kept things to myself and starting making myself upset. I hate being alone, I hate this person I am when I am alone, why am I this way? I guess in a way you really start to realize who you are when nobody is around. Some days I don’t really like myself as much as I should.

For the next couple of months, I want to be alone. Okay I know I can’t be alone completely for months but I can be alone for moments of months. Alone with my thoughts, alone with my dreams, and alone with my nightmares. I want to miss people. I want to fall in love with people, places, and things again. More importantly I want to prove to myself that I can actually do things alone without the help of others. I want to figure things out, make mistakes, and prove to myself that I can do things alone. I want to worry less about what the tiny screen says back at me and see the faces in front of me. Maybe I have officially gone mad, but sometimes the things that frighten you the most are the things you have to do for yourself. I haven’t done things on my own for a long time, it’s time that I started.

I am disconnecting myself from social media. If you need me, you know where to find me.

Let’s see how this experiment goes.

 

 

Haters gonna hate.

Negative influences tend to produce negative judgments. As much as we want to be immune to the world, influences find a way to us. It’s in everything we do. Everything that we like. Everything that we strive for ourselves. Life has a funny way of showing us who we really are when we need to see it. Showing our true colors to the world that we seldom see in ourselves. None of us is perfect. None of us have the power to change people. More importantly we can’t continue to blame other people for our mistakes. A lot of us need to own up to our imperfections and find our own way to be happy.

Hate is a strong world. But I can’t help but say it often. There’s no mistaken that I am a hater. I have hated on various people, places and things. I have projected my own anger into hate all for the sake of making myself feel better about my actions. I am not innocent in the ways that I go about my hate, I am not slick and I am not silent. Does it make me feel better? Of course not. Does it make me better than the next person? Not at all. Justifying my hate is pushing the blame on outside forces instead of putting the blame on myself. Because saying exactly how I feel doesn’t hurt anyone, it just allows my insecurities to work in over drive. I have been my own crown of thorns, so to speak. I have found way to hate so many aspects of myself and project them to people. Blaming other people for my own short comings and believing it was the cards that I was being dealt. Because Life has a way of giving me a shitty deal of cards. Giving me all the hard roads, life lessons, and watching people come and go as they please. All of my hardships, all of my misfortunes, all of my short comings, and the only thing I can do is hate everything. I could blame everything under the sun for the way I am. I could blame every last person that has hurt me. I could but at the end of the day I am the one that ends up miserable and alone. It’s when you find yourself growing up that you realize that there are things inside of you that needs to change.

When you reach that point in your life where “enough is enough”, you just have to let it happen. I am tired. I am exhausted. More importantly I am emotionally drained from keeping all this hate inside. Who cares if people have it better than I do. Why should I care if the grass is greener on the other side. Who am I to judge a person based on my own insecurities. I have no right to pick apart a person and point out their flaws. I wouldn’t want the same to happen to me, why should I be the person to do that to other people? Growing up means having to give up our childish juvenile ways. Give up the ways of believing that we are better than everyone and have a right to say exactly how we feel. Truth is nobody is better than anyone, and saying exactly how we feel often hurts people we truly care about. I have said many things out of anger and most of those things I wish I could take back. Nobody said growing up was easy and at times I can’t help but say things I know I shouldn’t. However, at this point in my life I am through hating. I can’t keep these tarnished ways inside of my heart any longer. I can’t keep blaming people for my own foolish mistakes. I have to forgive people and the actions that have hurt me in order to grow up.

Life isn’t suppose to be fair. Life isn’t suppose to be easy. Life is just suppose to be life, give or take what we put into it. Life puts us through the wringer and makes us stronger. We are the masters of our own life vessels. We are what we put into the world. If we continue to put out negativity, negativity is what we are going to receive. I am tired of hating people for my own short comings. Tired of treating people based on my own insecurities. We are all scared, we are all insecure in our ways, why should I treat anyone differently? At the end of the day I just want to be happy with my life decisions not upset about the way I reacted. I want to be able to go to my grave peacefully without an ounce of hate in my heart. People are not always going to be how I want them to be. People are going to let you down but at the end of the day you have to be able to let it go. Letting go of the past is the only way we can move on in our present, its the only way we can be happy in our future. My past can’t hurt me anymore but the longer I keep this hate the longer it marinates in my present.

Growing up isn’t easy. Everything I thought I knew before becomes life lessons I never expected. Life has a funny way of showing you errors in your ways. For me it was showing me that as much as I kept all this hate, it wasn’t making me feel better. I just hope by the time I feel like a grown up this growing up thing starts to make sense. As much as I don’t feel like a grown up, maybe this is what growing up really is. I guess in a way this is me growing up and feeling more like a grown up.