As a child, I grew up very curious and with many questions. Most of these were simple questions that could easily be answered by someone older and wiser than I. Since my mother was the one I spent most of my time with, most of these questions I would ask her. She always had an answer for me. I would ask her questions that children wonder like, “Where do babies come from?” and things like that. I always admired her intelligence because of the fact that she could always answer the questions that floated around in my small head. She became my role model. But as I grew older, I began to question the world. I began to ask my self questions that many people before me have also asked themselves. Most of which are still unanswered to this day. Quite recently, in the past 2 years, I have began asking questions about mental illness. What made me this way? How do I cure this? What am I supposed to do? Will I ever get better? My mother has become mute to these questions, questions that I’m sure she asks herself. I am growing older and now my mom doesn’t have all the answers. Nobody does.

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Divorce

 

My tear stained eyes burn

I envision a future without my husband of ten years

Can’t help but toss and turn

 

When will I ever learn?

Coming true, all my greatest fears

My tear stained eyes burn

 

My daughter shows concern

Ringing in my ears

I can’t help but toss and turn

 

Mixed feelings, my stomach begins to churn

In the midst of his yelling, his breath smells of beer

My tear stained eyes burn

 

Never again will I return

Moving far away, I plan to disappear

Can’t help but toss and turn

 

Constant fighting, he’s very stubborn

Depressive and tense vibes in the atmosphere

My tears stained eyes burn

Can’t help but toss and turn

Am I stupid or just in love?

Competition dates back to around 66 million years ago. Cavemen constantly competed for food, shelter, etc. In the modern ages, it becomes a little more complicated than that. Competition happens between companies, families, athletes and a lot more. I feel that I have spent the past year of my life competing with Annie. A woman’s instinct, jealously and protection is a thing that comes naturally. A woman compares to a tiger when it comes to the man she is infatuated with. Annie and I were childhood friends in elementary school. She wasn’t my best friend or somebody I grew up with, just kind of one of those friends that came out of my life just as quickly as she came in. We hung out a few times, and I used to look up to her. Annie was the older girl that was always talking to older boy, that made me envy her confidence. So you can imagine my surprise when I found out she started to find interest in the man that I called mine. They started off as friends, but a woman always has that certain instinct that can always determine a sketchy situation. Whenever I confronted him about this he comforted me and told me that I was “being crazy” for even thinking anything of it. He always convinced me that I was the crazy one. They began to talk more, while me and him began to talk less. This drove me into a slump state of depression. Every night unanswered questions flooded my mind.  What did she have that I didn’t? Annie always had older boys, so why was she looking in the direction of mine? Him and I got to a point where we didn’t talk for months. I was still in this depressed state so I wasn’t going to school. All my friends knew to avoid this topic, unless they were looking for an extreme meltdown. So I didn’t know if they were officially dating, and frankly I really didn’t want to. Nobody brought it up around me and I had no clue what was going on in his life. I liked to keep it this way. When one of my friends, Sam, was having a party I decided to work up the courage to finally go. This was the first time in a while I was going somewhere to see anyone from school. I knew that he was going, but Annie wasn’t. I didn’t think that this was going to be a problem. I was wrong. Everything was okay, even good, before I even went. I was with a cute boy and I was drunk. I kissed the cute boy in the back of a car and his hands went up my dress. My body was numb and I felt like I could conquer the world. That feeling got shot down the moment I walked into the party. When I first saw him, I swear I went pale. Goosebumps ran down my spine. He was being a drunk idiot running up to everyone at the party, screaming in their faces. I was drunk too, everyone there was, but he always took it to some next level. This was typical for him to exceed his limit; a year prior he finished a handle to himself and I had to babysit him until he went to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. Seeing him like this had always made me sick to my stomach. Most of the party I was sitting in the corner by myself, and occasionally going to the bathroom to sit in a pile of my own pity. While I was sitting in my corner, I was carefully observing him. I watched him whisper something into one of the underclassmen’s ears, and they both went outside. I basically watched him cheat on Annie. Suddenly the whole room starting spinning and I couldn’t feel my feet. All I knew was that I had to get out of there. Let me tell you, I cried so hard that night my chest burned. Like really fucking burned. Everyone has one night that they remember absolutely losing their shit, and this was mine. I don’t know if it was because I was drunk, because it was my first time seeing him in months, my depression, or a combination of all 3. I just couldn’t breathe and the tears couldn’t flood out of my eyes fast enough. I remember how scared my mom was because I couldn’t stop crying. The amount of times I’ve cried over this boy is ridiculous. My whole face swelled and I fell asleep with wet eyes on a mascara stained pillow, as I have many nights before that. After that night, not too many people knew that he had cheated on Annie. But I did. It felt like a secret that was just building inside of me. It wasn’t any of my business, so I didn’t do anything about it. After weeks of curiosity I heard somewhere that Annie and him had broken up. I’m not sure how this news made me feel, considering he had cheated on her. I was still trying to keep my distance. But like the love struck stupid girl I am, I had let him back into my life. We spent a long summer fighting about stupid shit but then at the end of the day always making up. He was the love of my life. I didn’t see a life without him. At this point he was my reason to live, and I was taking advantage of this short term happiness he provided me with. When people see me talking to him again, they ask me, why do you continue to talk to him if he hurts you so much? I wish I could answer this but I’ve been on and off with him since my freshman year of high school, and I still can’t answer this question. When I look at him, I feel that spark and those butterflies that people talk about when they’re in love. When he touches me, my whole body gets goosebumps. When he kisses me, I feel electricity. I guess I just hope maybe that one day he’ll finally feel these feelings that I’ve always had for him.

Mental health

My chest is a black hole. I am in excruciating pain. My negative thoughts are picking at my brain constantly. Scars line my arms and legs from the nights I thought I was going to end it. They come more constantly than you would think. Cigarette smoke clogs my lungs, yes, it burns. More times than not I am utterly intoxicated. Vodka has replaced my blood stream. I have tried sleeping around to try and fill the emptiness, but nothing works. How dare you call this beautiful. This isn’t beautiful, and it’s not fucking poetic. This is my life. Stop saying you’re depressed when you’re just sad. Depression is not a mood, it’s a state of mind. You don’t choose depression, he chooses you. And when he chooses you, there’s no backing out. You may get it easy and just cry yourself to sleep some nights. Or he may take over your whole life constantly badgering you to just kill yourself already. He will convince you that nobody cares about you anyway. You’re just another purposeless soul, this world doesn’t need you anyway.

The one who brought me into this world

A faint smell of cigarettes and coffee. My mother. She never really had much to say, but by the criticizing look she gave you could pretty much figure out what she was thinking. My mother is a judgmental, selfish woman. I guess in her defense, that is being pretty rough, but my sister always tries to tell me otherwise. After my mothers second divorce, she pretty most lost sight in the world. For days, she didn’t leave her bed or eat a single thing. I remember the look in her eye, the look any woman would have if their whole life has completely changed. My father broke her heart and she took this hard. She began to not care for many things, including me and my siblings. She never has much to say, but when she does chances are it isn’t something nice. Lately her rude comments have really had an impact on my mental health. I always blamed my dad for family problems, my mothers crippling depression and my mental health plummeting downhill. This was never fair to him. If you are looking at a situation in black and white, sure my dad was the one that cheated on my mom. Yes, he divorced her. But my mother is the type of woman that could drive a person crazy. I would never try and make excuses for cheating and in no way am I ever saying that’s okay. But lately I have more sympathy for him than my mother. It may seem pretty cliche to choose sides between two divorced parents, but mine make it near to impossible not to.

My eyes are drooping as i hear chatter and laughter of everyone catching up on their weekend. I finished my iced coffee, but I still can’t seem to wake up. Ugh. First period on a Monday. I think a lot of people can agree it’s the worst day of the week. Getting myself here was hard enough and now I need to manage to keep myself awake. Second period I need to listen to all the same bullshit I did last year, retaking a class really sucks.

I’m sorry that I’m broken and incapable of being loved. Everyone who gets remotely close to me, regrets it. I guess you were just another name on that list of people. I thought maybe this time things could be different, our minds could intertwine and our souls would connect. You rejected me. You wanted my body, but how can you take my body without understanding my mind? Not like I expect anyone to explore the unknown depths of my mind, but I thought maybe you could take a shot.

Intoxicated with love

I can’t help but imagine, do you only miss me when your cup is empty and your body is feeling numb? Do you only miss me when your intoxicated brain is reminiscing on what we once had? Does the numbness remind you of when we would spend our nights side by side, soaking in each others infatuation for each other? Does it remind you of my lips kissing down your body? Intoxicated or not, I will always love you. But I can’t help but think that you let intoxication take over your being, and that’s the only time you’ll ever miss me.

September 28th, 2017

6:00 am. The sound of my alarm wakes me up from a deep slumber, a state of mind I admire. I ignore it and roll back over to go back to sleep. A thunderous sound comes running up the stairs. Shit. It’s my mom. I’ve learned to block out her brutal words but this morning they really stuck to me. “You’re a lazy piece of shit,” “You’re never going to graduate.” I know she’s just frustrated with me, but really? Does she have to say such hurtful things? Tears flood my burning eyes as I turn back over to go back to sleep. I wish I had the motivation to get up and go to school, but sometimes I can’t even picture myself there. It definitely does not help when my own mother is pushing me further into the hole I’ve fallen in. Another thing that’s happened is he started talking to me again. How fucking selfish of him. Every time he starts talking to me again I get attached and I can’t go through that pain again. I’m sick of being dependent on him for my happiness, it hurts. If I told him something he did hurt me he’d probably say something he thought was funny like “take some advil” or “do you want some ice for that burn.” He was never into the deep and corny type of things, like I was. I always tried to talk to him about my feelings but he’d brush it off with some type of joke of some sort. I miss his witty dad jokes. I always thought I was going to make him a dad. I never pictured my life in the future without him, and I honestly still can’t. Some part of me still hopes one day we’ll end up together, but I know that’s not the way things always work. Another part of me wants to get as far away as I can from him. I don’t want to be stuck in a toxic relationship for the rest of my life. But what do you do if the one you love is constantly hurting you? Constantly saying things behind your back? My heart is in love, but my brain is smarter than that.

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