the list of things i am proud of myself for.

•  i have interesting, eclectic taste in clothing and furnishings. i know how to make a room or an outfit look interesting. 
•  i can cook pretty well. i am ok at baking if it's simple. 
•  i am creative in many ways.
•  i have beautiful eyes, and a great smile.
•  i have a nice ass, good legs and an hourglass shape. i have nice hair, take care of my nails, and look good most days.
•  i have fairly healthy eating habits.
• i drink lots of water.
• i am very easygoing.
• i have a lot of empathy.
• i am hardworking and responsible.
• i have my own place, no official debt, and my own car.
• i have a comfortable life, and don't struggle too much.
• i am intelligent, learn quickly, and am funny.
• i have survived things that others have not had to.
• i am independent.
• i take care of myself, and don't really need anyone else to do it for me.
• i am loveable.
• my cat adores me.
• i have a lot of friends that truly care for me.
• i am loved.
• i am rarely ever bored.
• i am almost done with my associate's degree, and have a plan for what to do after that.
• i have a wonderful group of friends that mean a lot to me.
• that i can actually ADD THINGS TO A LIST!
• and that i could add more...

my first real day of singledom, age 26.

what a day it's been. i've swung back and forth from being incredibly emotional, to relatively okay. tears form at the drop of a hat. i'm at once reveling in and terrified of being alone. it has truly been the first time in about a decade that i've been alone and had no real ties to anyone.

p and i spoke a few times. they were difficult for me. most difficult was the morning, as i truly did enjoy our mornings together. i took melatonin last night but it wasn't enough to truly knock me out. i fell asleep around 1230, and woke up from fitful dreams at around 545, when i was thirsty. i couldn't find the water filter and thought p took it, so i texted him. he wrote back quickly and we spoke a few times. then we were quiet until he asked me if i wanted the hawaii print that i got for him. i declined, and then we were quiet til i texted him that i miss him.

we discussed whether it was the right choice. i am still not sure. i miss his presence in my life deeply, although it hasn't been that long. i miss the certainty of us - the solidarity that we had formed together. we made a pretty good team, all things considered.

i am also enjoying some of the solace that this has brought to me. i have spent a lot of time thinking about what happened and why, and about each of us. i think about the numerous things i did wrong, and how they made him feel. i think about the things he did to me.

and i also think about b, a lot. i think this is my opportunity to finally heal from that situation as well. we have been fairly close these last couple weeks. i have really missed that, frankly. there is another bond there that has never truly broken, although i know that there is no way to get back to what we had before. i am thankful that he's in my life still, though.

all of my relationships are so wrought with anguish. i think it's because i have been trying to fill this hole inside me with outside forces. i think it's obvious from everything that that is impossible. i started this process of healing myself when i started going to therapy when i was with b - being on medication helped me quite a lot as well. p has helped me a great deal as well - he made me quit smoking, encouraged me to take care of myself, start drinking significantly less, helped me establish some routine.

for once, the end of a relationship does not make me want to spiral out of control. it makes me want to grow up. i remember how i felt towards the end of my relationship with b - all i wanted was to numb myself and run from the pain. this time i don't really want that. i want to feel the wounds, and i want to take care of myself while i heal. i want better for myself. and if i have trouble with that, i want to have the strength to forgive myself and keep going on the right path. i am very proud of myself for this. i think i am a different person now than i was a year ago, and for the better.

i also want to make a list of things that i am proud of myself for, and i want to put this out there publicly. i want to start affirming myself and showing myself that i do deserve to be loved, and that i am beautiful and intelligent and witty. i need to stop my cycles of self-hatred. they get me nowhere.

an ending and a new beginning.

so marks the end of my third major relationship. i am currently 26 and a half years old, and i feel significantly different during the ending of this one as opposed to the last two. i have become a different person since i met p - probably for the better. he brought out a lot of good in me, and i will forever cherish that about this relationship. it has taught me a number of things about myself. perhaps just growing up in general has taught me some things about myself. i am no longer the person who is crippled by the thought of being alone - who cannot detach from situations regardless of how toxic they are.

in theory we should have been great together. we both represented a lot that the other person wanted, but in the end it was our intrinsic differences that caused our love to die. in some very clear ways, we were two sides of the same coin. we shared a lot of things in common and i am thankful that i could meet someone who complimented me in so many ways. in other ways, we helped each other. i believe i helped him be a bit more easy going, and i supported him through his sadness. i made him laugh and gave him good conversations. i think i helped him be more open-minded, and perhaps a bit more open in general.

he helped me by showing me that i am capable of reaching my goals - that i am a strong woman who will not be broken down by what happened to me. he helped me to see the beauty in the quiet life at home, and how important it is for me to share certain qualities with another person. he showed me the value of trying to be a good person who does the right thing when possible.

the negative side of things is that we were both too broken to be good partners to the other person. when we met, we were both very lost about our lives. i was ending a chapter in my life that i hadn't yet truly had a chance to heal from. i am still attempting to heal from the other crazy situations in my life. he was and is trying to heal from a loss of identity after school, and a lack of real direction in life. i truly believe that had we met in different parts of our lives - perhaps later on this year, or next year, we would have been able to be the partners the other truly deserved. i grieve the lack of that opportunity.

p has a wonderful soul and i will miss parts of him very deeply. i will miss the silly, lighthearted nature of our relationship. i will miss being able to rant about the eating habits of other people, and about how strange religion is. i will miss talking about the little furball together, and i will miss looking forward to seeing his face every night around 830pm. i will miss the fact that he loved to take care of me, and loved it when i got him a drink of milk every night.

so here's to the end of us, my ex love. there was so much potential for THE ONE (tm) here. it does make me sad that it just wasn't enough.

things beyond my control.

i had a pretty horrific childhood. i have written of it before this, but it entailed experiences that most people are left speechless by. in my quest to heal, it seems that this is an issue that i need to resolve. the unfortunate thing is, no one tells you how to do this, and so i am fairly clueless about what to do. i ponder it frequently, research things that have happened and work on it in therapy.

despite the work, the trauma does not leave me. perhaps this is one of the vestiges that will forever tie itself to me. there are probably some good things that came of it, despite the negativity i feel towards the first 18 years of my life. i am an extremely hard worker, i am emotionally connected to myself, i have established myself in life, i am responsible and intelligent. i learn quickly and well, have some talent in some areas, am reasonably funny, etc.

i'm also easily depressed, easily wounded, prone to eating disorders, have terrible self image/worth, have an addictive personality, have an ugly body, have terrible track records with relationships, am stubborn and vindictive, have a terrible temper if not kept in check, and several other failings.

i often wonder what kind of person i would have been if i had had the solid foundation that i've always wanted and envied in others. i believe that most indians who came from generations before this one probably were not good parents. they are very emotionally neglectful, prideful, worried about their image, etc. they say terrible things to their children, emotionally abuse them and other things, because they do not know any better. even now, the children i see here, they are miserable. there is something very sad about a child who is miserable. i want to reach out to them and hold them close, and tell them that i understand, that they're not alone.

the life experience i want to provide for my future children is so different. i want them to know first and foremost, that i love them no matter what. i already love them, and they don't even exist. i want to nurture them, make them feel safe and whole, and confident. i want them to understand that life is long, and that it changes, and that they have the ability to do anything they want, and that i will always support them and adore them. i want them to understand boundaries, to respect others, to demand respect for themselves. i want to guide them and show them and teach them and help them. but mostly, i just want to love them, and i want them to know that regardless of what happens to them, they will always have me. i want them to grow and explore and experience, and i want them to feel comfortable to do that.

and one day, i want to share with them what happened to me, why i have no relationship with my father, why our family is so small on my side, and why i started thinking about what kind of parent i wanted to be before i realized i even wanted children. i want them to know that bad things happen regardless of what kind of person you are, and to never take anything for granted. i want to give them the ability to do anything they want, be anyone they want to be, love whoever they want, think whatever they feel is appropriate, all the while knowing that they are supported by me.

i want to give you, my future children, of whom i have been researching and thinking about for years before i am going to have you, the things i was not granted as a child. the love and support that would have helped propel me into the person i truly want to be, without so much hard work. without the feelings of desperation and futility. and most importantly, without the wounds that will forever mark me. you will have wounds of your own, every human must feel terrible to understand the beauty of being alive. i cannot protect you from them, but i will do my best to help you recover.

as for me, i will continue to do my best to help myself recover. it is a choice, and it is a process. i must take time to remind myself how proud i am that i am who i am now, that i have made it this far. it is far too easy for me to get lost in my failings.

this broken brain.

body image is an interesting thing. the view i have of my body is fairly accurate, i believe. i find myself to be disgusting and hideous in every way. i have small, lopsided breasts. i have fat on my stomach. i have fat on my armpits. i have fat on my thighs. there are layers of fat on my hips. when i sit down, there are rolls that form. when i bend over or lay on my side, my fat flops to the side. i detest being touched anywhere on my body that i feel hatred towards - at this point, it's mostly everywhere. i hide all these feelings deep inside. frankly, i do not feel proud of how i look or find beauty in myself in any way.

 

i have lost some significant weight in my life. i once weighed near 190lbs. i then dropped down to 155, the lowest in my entire life, over a process of starvation, low carbing, and working out. i honestly couldn't tell you what helped more. the starving, i think. i was miserable in a relationship, and starving myself felt like the perfect combination of punishment and weight loss effort. it's so easy. it's still the thing i want to turn to when i get frustrated. i've been doing it almost my whole life. i remember when i first started - barely 13. i discovered the beauty of being able to control things by simply eliminating feeding myself. i finally had control over my weight, over my body, over my unhappiness. 13 is about when my bpd first started showing up, although it didn't get ugly till about 18.

 

now, i am trying to do things the right way. i have some stability in my life. i have a man who loves me and cares for me and wants the best for me, who truly worries when i don't eat, who gets upset when i allow my insanity to rule my judgment. i am weighing in at around 172lbs. just reading/acknowledging that is triggering for me, and i have to work hard to not let myself slip. it's terrible. i feel like a failure of a human being, one that is too disgusting to live. and although this man is wonderful and loves me truly, he has slipped and said things in anger that showed me his true feelings about my looks and my body. i cannot blame him, and yet i hate him for it as well. i think about his words quite often, and they do effect me. they hurt me. but yet, why should they? he was truthful. he said things that i am aware of. he did not lie, or tell me anything that i did not already feel.

 

perhaps it is difficult to know that other people feel the disgust towards you, that you feel for yourself. it's maybe one thing to feel it inside and voice it in your own head, and another to have someone else voice it to you. he is not the only person whom i have loved, that has made comments about my body. each man i have seriously loved and dated has said it to me. after a certain point, it's not someone being cruel. it's the truth. i cannot blame any of them. i truly despise this body that i have been given, that i want to destroy in every sense. i despise a lot of things about this life that i have been granted.

 

how strange, that i can feel life is a gift for others. how bizarre that when it comes to myself, i feel i should have never been brought into existence. my entire life has been a struggle and nothing comes easily. after a certain point, it's exhausting, and i stop wanting to do the work.

 

i am a difficult person to love and cherish because of many things, all of which stem from the fact that i was broken as a child. i have never quite managed to repair myself, and i probably will never achieve that. it is only within the past 2 years that i have come to terms with the fact that i am a child sexual and emotional abuse survivor. even typing that out makes me feel like i am "being dramatic", which is a remnant of these things. my everyday life consisted of yelling, being locked in closets, throwing of belongings, berating, ignoring, kidnapping, brainwashing, insults, and much more. i was not allowed to have feelings or opinions. i was not allowed to be a child in the real sense of the word. i spent much of my time alone because i was not allowed to have friends that were not approved of, and very few were. my father is an alcoholic, and much worse than that. he is a woman and child beater. he is a narcissist. i have only recently come to terms with that, as well.

 

i was taught to feel this way. i was taught to systematically despise myself and not care for myself, because that is what i was shown as a child. these realizations have come through therapy, and i am thankful for them, as painful as they are. although my basic needs were taken care of, and perhaps i was even truly loved at certain points, i was not cared for. i was often treated as an inconvenience, as a possession, and as a pawn. i was cast aside if i would not perform as expected, insulted if i deviated from the course. i was not shown a lick of respect throughout my entire childhood. it is very hard for me to come to terms with this, and i often want to downplay the truth because of that. i did not always have the brutal abuse of other children, but what happened to me is abuse nonetheless.

 

i am uncertain what i wanted to accomplish by writing these things down, but it was cathartic in any case. i need to heal from all of this and i'm trying so fucking hard. it's really overwhelming sometimes. a lot of the times. but i really owe it to myself to not hate myself anymore. i think i deserve more than that, although it's hard for me to truly feel that way. i think it's difficult for normal people to understand also. it's a huge mind fuck and i'm doing my best to navigate it.

reemergence, via words

it is an interesting experience, coming back to life.

it's intense, and it's difficult. the last couple years have been quite a rough journey for me, but it is one that is thankfully coming to an end. seeing the end in sight, but not quite being there, is exhausting.

slowly, I feel parts of myself reawakening. links in my brain that have been switched off for who knows how long. I can sometimes almost feel the little sparks, and I imagine them as tiny fireworks pinging into existence. facets of myself that have been lost are evolving and strengthening. NEXT LEVEL ROBOT MODE, INITIATED.

my insurance company quite rudely decided not to cover my medicine last month, so I was thrown cold turkey from the serotonin train. it was fairly hellish, but short. nausea and brain zaps. they aren't kidding when they talk about how crazy withdrawing from cymbalta is - I do not recommend.

the bright side is, holyshitI'malive.

those pills were necessary for me to survive, but now off, I realize I wasn't feeling much at all. I existed, barely.

but now, I'm ready to thrive.

reemergence via photos