excerpts from stories i will never write

i guess i just didn't realize how much it really hurt till i started speaking it out loud then i found out that it feels distant and i know it's probably my fault it's not like i help things but it just hurt all of a sudden made me realize that i don't feel important to people who would want me there for them? will i ever be there for someone? do i matter to people? or am i really and truly cursed to love more than i am loved? maybe i'm selfish.  maybe i'm assuming.  but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. --3.28.21

she reduces herself to ash shifting from this reality to one in the future she becomes formless she is a shadow she  follows life's pattern like the good little girl she's always been there is no rest for the wicked she cannot sleep you are calling but she is gone.

survival mode.  i fight  one thing    one goal     one feeling     one emotion      one battle                  at a time. am i not allowed to  struggle here ? am i not allowed to have a bad day ? must i always be on  [mentally] / [top of things] / [like an extrovert] ?

it feels like every week i can't focus too tired too stressed  a thousand things running through my head the week ahead the week behind like every week i look back i look around i look up and wonder what they have that i don't  what i'm missing what i'm doing wrong to feel so alone and lost and afloat i tell myself -- every week -- "this is just a bad week. it is okay to just have a bad week." but every week is a bad week every week there's something wrong and i pray every single day for trust and for contentment and for letting go of control so where is the fulfillment? where is the answer? why am i still here  every week heart beating faster and faster my breath going in and out and in and out in quick quick quick quick time beat if every week is a bad week where are the good weeks? where are the good weeks? --2.14.21

feels like i'm missing something? looking around at all the people around me i felt myself tear up. i started to cry. because i felt like i was missing something. i still feel like i'm missing something. that i keep doing everything i've been told. that i'm doing the best i can. that i've taken on more than i can handle but i don't want to give any of it up. should i be doing more? do i need to sacrifice some of my own time, some of my own mental health? how much is too much; how little is too little? i feel like i'm drowning. and everyone around me is floating but i can't see how they are. how they manage. i don't feel like i can manage. i don't feel like i'm able to manage.  i know i'm depressed again. i keep feeling myself on the edge of tears. i've been a terrible person this past weekend and he doesn't deserve that. i know the feelings aren't permanent. but they feel like they've never left when they come back. and no...

i'm i think i'm depressed. i'm done hiding things here. it's as my parents told me; "no one reads. no one cares." right at this moment, i cannot remember joy. i cannot remember sitting down to a good episode of a show i love. i cannot remember wanting to be cuddled. today i was scared of touch. me, the touch starved person i am. scared of physical contact with the right person. i shy away. i am shutting down. i am hungry but the thought of food makes me want to vomit. day after day, minute after minute, second after second. shoving food into my body which does nothing but sustain me for several hours until i convince myself to eat again. it's anti-cognitive––i know i need to eat; it will keep me healthy; by not eating i am gaining weight. and yet here i am. the smell of food is disgusting.  of course, material things do not help. no amount of metal in my body, ink on my skin, things i can hold, medication in any form will make me feel better. i know i have...

soon i will throw out the last thing i keep around that reminds me of you–– such a small thing–– a pen. scratched on the sides, worn from use, running out of ink. traced out lines in my Bible, careful note-taking,  kept my hand steady. soon i will throw away the last thing that reminds me of you. it may not even be the exact same one you bought me as i bought another pack of the same pens sometime after regardless it's almost gone now like you the lines in (of) my memory faded. i have to press down on the paper to get your pen to write for me. a blade almost cutting the paper like the lines you made on my heart when you left. and you left so many times. so many times. but soon i will throw away the last thing that reminds me of you and maybe, maybe, you'll leave with it. just a pen.  --9.28.20

terrified. so far away, but distance makes things both easier and harder. different things. scared she's not ready, will never be ready. will never be good enough. scared she won't be able to let go of herself enough to hold onto someone else.

feeling kind of like i'm floating. temporary. not all the way here. like i'm in space, or flying, or falling.  just here for a little while. like i'm afraid to get back into things again.  like i'm afraid to get used to things, because they're going to change-- not just in the next few months, but the next few days. like i'm scared. just scared. of everything. like i want someone to hold me to sleep just so i can feel safe, comforted, in a controlled place. not depressed in the way that i may burst into tears at any moment, but more like i am on the brink of a cliff waiting to do something expensive unexpected impulsive fly or fall --8.18.20

but what i don't say is that on top of not being able to see him in the evening, this new work schedule means that i have even more trouble and anxiety and stress about balancing my family and him and that now this means more disappointment  from me from my family from him because i have to measure out the nights  balance them between the two  and know all the while that neither will be satisfied and so i will have let everyone down and i can do nothing to fix it --7.25.20

"wishing he would stop asking questions so i wouldn't have to give answers, but at the same time loving that he cares enough to ask questions in the first place." one of the first things i noticed and loved about him. yet so difficult when i don't know how to put to words what i feel, or when i don't want to. so unused to using the phrase "i'd rather not talk about it." but he's right--as usual. it would make things easier for both of us. --7.16.20

how to solve the inner conflict? eyes burning. waiting, awake, worrying. not sure why he disappeared. lots of time to think. what's up with me? i really should not blame it on my circumstances but it feels like i need to yell at someone, need to hurt myself or let go of all this pent-up energy somehow. it's times like these when i wish she hadn't left me. times when i knew i had someone there for me just a text away.  except when she wasn't there. it's late. my eyes burn from staring at a screen for too long. i'm tired.  attention whore. that's what i feel like. like if i don't have his full attention and patience when i want it--i'm lost, i'm lonely. i want everything from him except when i don't, and then i just want to be left alone. such a spoiled attitude--not sure where it came from, but i wish it would leave. entitled. but i feel like i can't stop feeling that way. dangerous unless i get it under control. i don't even want to w...

help. i want to go back. i don't want to back. i'm tired. i'm wired. it's time for me to get another bodily modification to feel some control over my body and my life. i feel ready to jump off a high surface and just watch myself and feel myself soar. soar. soar.  --7.5.20

yesterday. let's try to figure out what i was feeling.  first: "i don't really want to be here."  - tired of staying inside all day - sitting down watching tv. that does not build or grow a relationship. - feeling stagnant. wanting to take a walk in the rain. by myself, because i knew he wouldn't want to come.  - a little worried whenever i show that wild spontaneous side of me. like the part that would get soaking wet and dance in the rain is too much and needs to be hidden. like he's too mature for that part of me. - nothing open anyways. he doesn't like to be outside as much as i do, i think.  second: "please don't touch me." - not sure why. perhaps see the first reaction--"i don't really want to be here." it would have been more interesting to me if i had wanted to be there. - just wanting to be alone. not having to be fake because thoughts run through my head at 90 miles an hour and in the moment i can't explain. i have...

flowofconsciousness tired eyes burning from saltwater i cried earlier today began with rain the sun came out rain came back from my own eyes can barely find the strength to stay open like his blinds laying on his chest i knew that  i didn't know what i wanted but that it was not this that it was not to go home and stay there and cry more that the one thing i wanted more than anything was to stay and curl up on a couch on our couch and watch a movie and eat ice cream and feel him beside him the warmth of him and the security the nearness of his body provides me that i just wanted to lay down and sleep with him near me hearing his breathing not too soft not too loud just near him like i love like i always want to be  crying like used to when he would leave holding onto him like he is a lifeline and i am drowning in what in my own tears for no reason or maybe for every reason don't want to fulfill everyone's expectations of me i want to be different want to be able to ...

beautiful day. sun shining. breeze coming through the room. tucked up into your arms. face in your chest. breathing in the scent of you. security. one that i know. feel your heartbeat. half of me relaxed, the other up tight because i don't want to ruin this perfect moment. after so long, it feels so good to be in your arms. i wish i never had to leave. --4.13.20

unsatisfied. i run from one problem to the next. can't escape. where are my people. why do i not reach out. why do i retreat. why do i wait for them to move first. why. why. why.

so now i’ve got to go a home that’s not quite mine  sleep in a bed that doesn’t feel right  in an extended state of limbo  lonely, no one to hold me,  nothing to distract me from feeling  can’t talk to anyone, the only one i need is asleep and too far away  i put off sleeping, knowing that i will cry in bed  and sure enough, i do can’t breathe any more but no one can hear nowhere is home. i feel lost and impermanent / transient / passing through.   --3.12.20

my rules of survival: 1. don't open up. ever. don't let anyone into your head. they will leave you, they will hurt you, you will wish you'd never let them in. 2. don't get attached. they will leave you, they will hurt you, you will wish you'd stayed distant. they do not care about you forever. they never do.  3. tell lies. cover up the truth with smiles. let them think that you are okay, when inside you are being torn apart. they do not care, really. they will hurt you. 3.1 "i'm sorry" 3.2 "i forgive you" 3.3 "i miss you too" 3.4 "thank you for offering to be there for me when i need a friend"

i hope you're happy now. i wonder if there's anyone checking up on you. i hope you're happy now. i wonder if you're getting enough sleep. i hope you're happy now. i wonder if you're more relaxed, less stressed, not as depressed. i hope you're happy now. --2.19.20