When will I ever be worth it?

When will I ever be worth it?

Stopped calling names and told it’s ended.

It’s not an everyday occurrence but it might as well be, because you belittle and drown me every fucking week.

It could be the smallest of things or bickering back and forth, you end up treating me like shit making me feel like dirt.

It’s always something, or I’m “bitch”. You tell me to shut the fuck up or call it quits.

I always end up surrendering after losing my shit. What else am I suppose to do when you treat me like this?

You end up apologizing after realizing what you’ve said and done, “it’s never gonna happen again” you say, you put it on your sons.

But mistakes repeated are no longer mistakes, you’re choosing to break.

Flowers can’t always suffice for apologies, you need to change your ways.

Because if you don’t treat me right, someone else will, then what? It’s gonna be my fault why I left, you suck.

You always tell me you’re gonna be “better”, well I’m also sick of your false promises – they’re always broken.

You make me feel so low and not confident.

This is why I struggle with self worth; Your cousin did this same shit but you may be worse.

I just want to be worth it than most. I wanna mean something and be enough for it to stop. Just tell me you love me and lie, I’ll believe it eventually if not.

When will I ever be worth it?

Maybe you’ll care when I die, and you’ll regret the shitty things you done to me as you kiss me goodbye…. 😔

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Poetic Sadness

No one understands what it’s like – to feel lost and lonely inside.

You wake up  wishing the pain would just go away, but it stays trapped in your mind like a vigorous wave.

Scars on my skin and scars on my soul; Some scars are exterior and others are within, they all tell a story but most stay hidden.

If you knew what went through my mind, you’d think the devil was confined. These demons have tried escaping through paper and time.

The tears I’ve cried are angels from heaven, they know I’m suffering carrying this burden.

I ask that that they keep me safe and heal my broken heart, but time will tell if I’m worth it or not.

Though this girl couldn’t be sad anymore, for I became numb. Somehow that got worse and death to a fixated curse.

Painted smiles on a face, it was the perfect disguise. It’s like a master at the brush telling infinite lies.

You see the dimples show through and a laugh so contagious, but my wrists are now stained and my eyes cry insane.

Not strong enough to continue any longer, so God take my soul – for this was too much to handle.

So I’m sorry to say that the devil has won the battle…

Now the angels cry of sadness as my funeral’s at the chapel.

1st post of 2018

 

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Hello fellow readers, bloggers, and world. It’s been over 6 months since my last post, so I’m not going to lie to you guys – it feels quite offbeat being back. I’m not sure where to inaugurate so I’m just throwing myself out there.

For many unaware, my health has been shit for about 4-5 months. It started out with everything I ate was making me feel nauseous. Eventually, it went away. Yet as that died down, it gradually took over my head. I was constantly disoriented, dizzy, light-headed; Truth is, the only time I felt “fine” is when I was sleeping, so I started sleeping more. Naps in the day got longer and I would sleep up until’ I had to go to work. It got even worse with headaches and migraines on the daily and I didn’t feel like myself. I would cry to my boyfriend saying that something worse was wrong and that I felt like I was losing my damn mind. I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore.

However I did see myself freaking myself out more. I had gone for blood work and thinking of endless possibilities of what the disclosure could be. In fact, I was hoping something would appear just so I could have clarity with whatever it may be. I had called for my results a week prior to my 2nd appointment. I was babysitting at the time and was getting so anxious being on hold for about 10 minutes before the nurse got on to speak to me. When she did, she was thinking she had enlightened me by telling me all blood work came back negative for anything to be concerned about. I found myself inquisitive even more and asking how… I even told the nurse she disappointed me because in that moment I really felt like I needed to be in a psychiatric hospital. I was not making this up… Now I know I have had a few loose screws but this was the tip of the iceberg for me and I couldn’t take it any longer.

I only wanted to cry because nothing felt right. There came a point where I couldn’t even hold a conversations with people at my work and I felt like my responses were so slow – I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t, atleast it felt like it. Sensed even worse for my boyfriend because as good as he is to me, I was more anxious than usual. A few times he would have his arm around or on me at night in bed and I would fling it off and dart to the bathroom to be alone for a few minutes. I didn’t see how bad I would get overwhelmed with situations. I felt more moody and at this mark, I had also been late on my period. Now I was thinking, either I am pregnant and it was too early to detect in the blood work so I’ll have to wait a few more weeks or it was the stress of everything that had taken over.

This situation consumed me, my thoughts, and now my body.

Finally, the day had come for my appointment. Though I knew my results, I wasn’t sure what my doctor would want to do…. She tells me my blood work was normal, and then looks to me with compassion and tells me it’s my anxiety and depression. Can you believe that? 4-5 months of this bullshit for it to be only my anxiety and depression. Okay, so I have dealt with this… I live with this, it has NEVER been this bad before. I wanted to convince her it was something else. But who was I really trying to convince here, the doctor or myself? She said it was my built up stress that has caused my depression and that anxiety is just the cherry on top.

For the past two weeks, I have been taking Prozac as prescribed. Yep – That’s right! I have officially joined Prozac fucking Nation. Extremely anxious and hesitant to even take it, this was a reason I stopped taking my zoloft 3yrs ago; Because it gets worse before it gets better. I didn’t like having to rely on a pill to keep me “sane”. I found other outlets for it all but throughout time, I had fallen out of them and slowly transpired into combat… And I had only been losing against myself.

So there you have it. I ended 2017 with being another statistic and I am okay with that. I know that if I want to feel better, and genuinely be happy I will have to continue this path for a while. This journey has just started and I hope on the way I find more outlets I can stick with to help balance my chaotic emotions and ease my anxiety. It hasn’t been the easiest and I don’t expect it to be. I don’t want anybody’s pity or sorrow, I only ask for empathy amongst others. Because as I try to get clasp acceptance and understanding for thyself, I ask that others can respect the position first.

My suffering has been a blessing although I haven’t verified it yet. Despite that, I do recognize that things can be worse and they’re not. I know that I haven’t lost all hope and I am realizing that I needed to believe in more of me. However, the struggle isn’t over yet. I am stronger than my battles and I was destined to fight them – And face them head on, I shall. ♥

The Infliction

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Do you ever feel like the weight of everybody else is on your shoulders?

Do you ever feel like you’re not going to be good enough no matter how hard you try?

Do you ever feel like nobody genuinely likes you & that people only talk to you because they feel bad for you?

It sucks and leaves you with the feeling of feeling beyond shitty.

Bad enough I tend to already worry, overthink and create absolutely ridiculous scenarios but damn- Either this anxiety thing is seriously kicking my ass or I am in all honesty losing my fucking mind. Maybe both?

We’re going to go with that so I don’t feel as bad nor straight loca for the emotions that have taken over my mind and sentiment state.

Though the constant need to feel like I need to apologize for feeling so deeply is past me, I won’t do it anymore. Just because it’s okay to feel and express yourself. So instead, I will clasp this time to self indulge in my own despondency, nobody else has to- right?

Fuck, nobody will even take the time to check in and ask if I am okay…

Even though one will most likely fib and use the typical, “I’m fine” dash, it’s still nice for somebody else to notice you haven’t been yourself lately. It’s courteous to ask how others are doing rather than shunning possible reality of their world to the side.

And that’s the point: I will always ask how someone is doing. I will always ask if somebody needs a helping hand or guide. Why is it that nobody can do that for me?

Wanna know another shitty emotion? Feeling alone… Now there’s a difference between alone and lonely. I am no way in hell lonely, however when you feel this alone and lost, it can get lonely walking the path alone with no hand to hold onto & nobody to talk to.

Did I just contradict myself? Eh, who cares? Life is contradicting itself so I pity those who live their life like Mary fucking sunshine, alright.

Because real life problems do exist and people are living proof of disorders and life issues arise every day. Like a flock of fucking seagulls, this shit just hits me suddenly. There is no denying that. And what’s even worse is that I can’t help but feel EVERTHING at once.

It’s either the concern of everything or utterly nothing. Why is it these two cannot differentiate? Do you readers notice the questions I have questioned? Oh, and there goes another. Because this is what happens in my mind. A 1000 questions zoom through faster than speedy gonzales.

For those of you who don’t know me too well and tell me how joyous I always am because I am always smiling, laughing or shimming (which is a stupid dance I do), think again.

This is documentation on what nights are living with these disorder is and know that, this is only the beginning and nothing compared to the horrendous thoughts that actually come across my brain.

I once read that all emotional pain lasts 12 minutes, anything longer than that is self-inflicted. Call me skeptical, but I didn’t ask for this.

Okay, I don’t ask to feel like shit on sleepless nights and overthink every little thing in my life. I don’t ask for the tears that creep down my pillow at 2am or the constant battle of thinking what is it that I am doing wrong.

I hate this feeling, and sometimes I just don’t want to feel altogether.

Because it is exhausting- To be tired of being tired, fucking sucks balls.

If I knew the answers, I wouldn’t ask for help.

To strangers and friends reading this: I’m here, always.

And for those who live the same way I do, it’s not a bad life- just a bad night.

You’re a warrior battling yourself. Don’t give up! It’s nights like this that make us lose our shit but stronger than before…

& Lastly, thank you to whoever took the time to read and check out my blog. Embrace yourself, walking the path to life isn’t easy, but it’s a beautiful struggle. ♥

Pain of the past

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This is something I wrote 2 years ago when I was in a dark place…

Looking back on the pain of the past, it still haunts my mind.

Looking back on the pain of the past, who would’ve thought all this time?

It haunts me like a monster underneath my bed, but these monsters scream terrifying memories all in my head.

Making my heart feel so caved in, like I’m drowning in the ocean for all my sins.

At night is when my demons come out to play, testing my sanity of such a long way.

Surrounded by four walls, crying in the dark, it hasn’t gotten better with the time on the clock.

3am: Still drowning in my sorrows. It’s the pain of back then that feels like there’s no tomorrow.

Flashbacks of the abuse and destruction, only kill me inside. Wondering when I’ll be saved and stop sinking in the tide.

Looking back on the pain of the past, it still haunts my mind.

Looking back on the pain of the past, who would’ve thought all this time?

Will the pain of torture ever go away? I’m a piece of shit and I live it everyday.

Pain of the past, it survives in my brain. Like scars on my wrist, it’ll always remain…