Hi my names Jane Doe and I suck at titles

Featured

Hi guys, I’m not an expert in anything and I’m definitely not special in anyway. I’m just your average Jane Doe. There’s not really much you need to know about me but here are a few bullet points

  • I’m a 23 almost 24 year old college graduate working in a factory because rents expensive and my diploma doesn’t pay for shit.
  • I curse a lot, sorry!
  • I suck at spelling and grammar, again sorry.
  • I am blind without glasses and I can’t juggle to save my life.
  • I’ve been diagnosed with depression, whoooopee still not special.
  • The counsellor I saw said I have all the classic symptoms of social anxiety. Go me (and a million other people)  taking socially awkward to a clinical level.
  • I was raped and I’m fucked up about it.
  • I don’t like chocolate or peanut butter but damn Reese peanut butter cups are orgasmic.

So that was a fun little ice breaker, right? My story isn’t really special and that is exactly why I want to try this. I may be a statistic BUT I’M WAY TO FUCKING COMMON. The world is full of broken and fucked up people, and we hide behind fake faces while inside we’re drowning because we can’t go up to a friend and blow up all our shit because we’re petrified they don’t want to know. Or that they’ll judge us. Or that this huge thing we can’t deal with is laughable to them. Or why can’t we just suck it up like they can. Or what the fuck ever.

Honestly I don’t expect a lot of people will ever even see this let alone read through all my posts. Hey maybe no one will, and it’ll just be an extremely public therapeutic journaling  exercise that gets lost in the masses. That’s all cool. But maybe one person will stumble in it and go “hey, I’m fucked up and don’t know how to handle my shit either. Fuck yea, I’m not alone”. Only they’ll probably think it way better then I just wrote it. That’s something I think this world needs though, I think we need to see more of each others ugly and stop hiding behind social media perfection which I feel only further isolates us all when we actually are struggling.

So I got to be up at 4am for work and can’t risk being late because I’m in charge of cake for a coworkers bday. Totally don’t feel like I was a good choice for that task cause I almost dropped it in the store about 20 feet from the bakery section. But cake. So not getting into any hard hitting symptoms of my own personal crazy.

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Today Sucked

I know what a broken heart feels like and I get that it hurts in ways nothing else does, but that doesn’t mean you get to use my rape as ammunition for your hissy fit.

 

Every day at work I sit in a car to eat my lunch, I never go to eat in an actual lunch room because there’s too much drama. Sometimes friends eat with me. I thought nothing of it when a friend swung into a car to eat his lunch with me, and I thought nothing of it when I got a sideways hug from him because I was having a pretty crummy day. Just one of those days where you’re tired and cranky. Hugs cheer me up, and I go around and ask friends for them whenever i’m having a bad moment or bad day because sometimes, sometimes that small amount of human contact is enough to turn things around.

Today though. Today that hug landed me in a world of bullshit. See this “friend” of mine says she’s in love with this fella who I ate lunch with. She’s been on about it for ages and while I get heartbreak it has sucked to have to listen to constantly because he’s my friend too. See they aren’t talking right now, reasons vary depending which you ask and that’s whatever, every story has multiple sides to it.

Since they aren’t talking i’m apparently supposed to either not be his friend oooor spy on him and report back like some grade three nonsense. Now. when all this shit started and I landed in the middle because I suffer from foot in mouth disease she was freaking, bound and determined she was going to RUIN his entire life. Spread rumors at work, feed his dad a bunch of lies, try and convince his girlfriend he was cheating, ruin every aspect of his life in every conceivable way. So I convinced her not to because I don’t believe in revenge, all it does is bring more hurt and it solves nothing. To convince her though I had to walk a line I’m not proud of and maybe there was a better thing to do but I’m not good with people and all i could think to do was convince her to let me pull that trigger. See what i thought was that if I kept up with the bashing your girlfriends enemy bs and if I told her that I’d send any “inappropriate” messages from him to his girlfriend then he’d be safe.

well I’ve got nothing to say to his girlfriend and even if I did I don’t believe ruining someones happiness out of vengeance is beneficial to anyone.

Apparently my “friend” saw me and buddy eating lunch together or someone told her or I don’t even know. I just know that she lost it at buddy, and wrote me off as a friend because we ate lunch together. Which I had to find out third party.

I called her out. We argued. And she threw her knowledge of my rape in my face as if somehow, in any possible interpretation of events my perceived betrayal of her equates to having my body and my voice stolen. There was no need to bring it up except to try and hurt me and good god do I hurt.

It was just lunch and if she’d asked me about it I would have told her.

 

Eyes Wide Open

Eyes wide open

I could name you

expose you

sweet lady above

eyes wide open

I know who you are

what you are

But dearest lady

the sway doesn’t lessen

Dark calls to dark

half of me screams to answer

half is ever frozen

transfixed by mesmerizing eyes

Eyes wide open

sweet lady have mercy

set me free from paralyzing gaze

bleed from me your price

a devil has my hand

pulling me into this tantalizing dance

with eyes wide open

still I cannot resist

sweetest drug to flow these veins

pray tell lady

that angel for my shoulder

how much do I have to pay

Maps

Years ago my soul shattered

scattered shards sent flying

caught up but the winds of fate

I lost myself

life is not so cruel as that

leaving broken abandoned

never to repair what once was

as time marched on

different people would pass through

each one unawaree

they are the key to unlocking

the map of my souls fragments

but what if

you are one key

and the cost to obtain is too high

as an ally the way would be clear

but dark chaos lurks in your heart

how many remedies

exist for insidious poison

how many possibilities

ever knock on life’s door

another’s heart

I could never pay so high

Sweet lady luck

your smile has ever been kind

I will gamble my soul

another such key exists

no mater how painful a find

let that be my path to tread

Unsteady

I’ve heard it a million times
Every line imaginable
Turning me from human
Into an object for your admiration
Robbing me of my identity
I’m so numb
Self so removed from body
Lost to myself
One word
One word like a knife to my heart
Tears gather but don’t spill
With one kind word
Years of hurt ignored overwhelm
Roads not taken
Fear driven escape
One word
Pretty

1 in 4 Chance

I’m the 1 in 4, and no I didn’t win a 50 dollar gift card to some store I never shop at. I was raped and once again I can’t sleep cause my brain wont shut the fuck up about it.

For the record I can’t remember enough details of that night to tell you what I was wearing, it was summer in Canada so I’m going to guess jean shorts and a t-shirt cause I don’t do fancy. I do remember the date was going really well, or it seemed to be. I do remember letting him drive me to a park to see the fireflies.

I am not one for regrets because personally I believe everything we go through in life makes us into the person that we need to be but fuck do I ever regret that decision and really I probably should have known far better then that but that’s the thing with people like Nyx they have a charisma that puts you at ease and makes you lower your guard. If I had one do over in life that night would be it.

I do remember how quiet that night was, I remember how scared I was and I can tell you every thought racing through my head and I remember saying no. was so quiet I could hear the crickets outside the cab of his truck and I said No. But words don’t have near as much power as actions and I was frozen. To afraid to react. The counselor I saw for my depression explained to me that while everyone knows the fight or flight reflex its more accurately fight, flight or freeze and I froze.

Now I thought I was doing better with things. I started allowing myself to live, making new friends and getting back into contact with old friends I’ve pushed away. I have a little balcony garden I’m very proud of. Eating better, working out… I mean I just started working out but planning on sticking with it this time. Although I may have to do tomorrows after work cause I have a feeling that I may sleep through my morning alarm depending on how long i’m up tonight. I could take a sleeping pill I suppose but really don’t want to. But better. Better then I’ve felt in a long time.

Only thing is

The better I feel and the harder I try the more unstable I get. More panic attacks, without warning and not always even sure what triggered them. More fear in general. I have to have every light on in my apartment in order to sit here at the computer and write. Turning the lights out at night wasn’t really an issue and now I can feel my heart racing more and more with each light I turn off. Its spinning out, the more I live the less control I seem to have over my fears.

The last panic attack I had was at work and it came out of nowhere, I actually thought I was getting a migraine. But. It wasn’t just panic or anxiety… it was more… I was doing my job, or trying too, and looking at hands that my eyes recognized as mine but I felt like I was watching someone else move. I wasn’t in control of them, I couldn’t feel them, they just moved. And they weren’t my hands, I mean they looked right, the tattoo on my wrist was there but they weren’t mine.

Luckily I have friends and when I told one I was having an attack he reminded me to put an asmr video in because they help to center me and calm me down. I’m damn lucky I’d just told him about that recently.

Then the power went out, and it was pitch, couldn’t have seen my hand two inches in front of my face pitch black. I froze. again. Couldn’t even fucking scream I had no voice. almost had a second attack. it was that feeling all over again, which is stupid because it was just a power flicker and it didn’t even last a minute. but it was that heart constricting, throat clogging, immobilizing fear.

I may not have ever been the bravest person in the world but I do remember a time when fear didn’t rob me of myself, when even though I was afraid I was able to function. More and more I feel like each time fear gets its grip on me its worse and I loose a little bit more control. a little bit more stability.

Don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with any of that but better out then in I guess…

https://www.sexassault.ca/statistics.htm

Inked and Sexy

Let me tell you a story. It’s one I haven’t really told fully to anyone, mostly just a bit about the parts that hurt because heartbreak makes us all a little crazy at times.

A while ago I met this man, he had a wicked sense of humour and for reasons I really still don’t understand he started talking to me one day at work and we clicked in a way. Not in anyway special I guess but we got along well and he was always coming around and making me laugh and at that point in my life I needed all the laughter I could get.

Maybe he could see that because this man, he went through a lot of dark times, betrayal and loss and more pain then was fair for anyone. His story is his own though and to say more on it would be a grievous betrayal.

I remember not understanding why such a funny and hot guy was burning up his data messaging me over facebook while he was on vacation somewhere warm and sunny, but we talked  all day every day. When he came back home we had a movie night, it was right before Christmas holidays and this man LOVES movies so he rolls in with a giant ass fucking binder of dvds. Those old school CD ones 4 dvds per side double sided “pages” and like 3 inches thick. Bursting full so he could barely do it up. We ended up watching all those cheesy Christmas specials they used to play on YTV all the time, the claymation ones – rudolph and the island of mistfit toys, frosty the snow man, little drummer boy.

We did drinks at my place another time, and he picked my tipsy ass up off the couch and tucked me into bed. Was going to let himself out but while being a gentleman he woke me up. I remember staying up talking for hours and hours.

I remember those nights he stayed over, how he was always exhausted because he never gets more then an few hours of sleep, and wakes up constantly breaking up what little sleep he did get. But he always tried not to wake me even when I kept saying that he should so I could at least keep him company. When I did wake up … it was fucking heart wrenching . seeing this man, who by day was larger the life and cocky and constantly running his mouth off but somehow always in the most endearing way, seeing him so hunched over so broken looking so defeated.

Now, me. I fell in love with that man. I fell in love with the self assured confident man he paraded himself around as during the day, I fell in love with the quieter movie nerd he was at home and I fell in love with the broken down man hunched over the edge of my bed who used to sense when I woke up and would just start talking. Pouring out pain as if he couldn’t hold it in anymore. And each night like that, the next few days he’d have gone squirrel-y on me as if anything that he had bottled up inside of him was going to change the man I knew. I fell in love with every part of himself that he allowed me to see and there are days I think i’d have fallen for every part if he’d let me see them all. But I never said it and he wouldn’t have let himself believe it if I had I don’t think, to convince of his unworthiness.

Him. I don’t know and never will. But it really doesn’t matter to me if he loved me or not because what he gave me, what he gave me felt like sunshine on the bleakest of days.

First time in my life that I felt beautiful was waking up next to him one morning. He was playing farmville on his phone because he was strangely addicted to it and when he saw I was awake the Brat showed me a picture he’d taken of me in my sleep. Drooling on the pillow hair a mess and I’ve never seen a picture of myself that I thought was as beautiful and I’ve rarely felt as beautiful as I did in that moment since and never before.

Second man I was involved with after being raped that I was able to confide in and the first who didn’t tell me it was my own fault. He was angry and definitely didn’t want to listen to the story because it upset him so much knowing it happened but he never made me feel dirty and he never ever made me think he was angry at me for allowing it to happen.

He used to grab my ass in the elevator, and when I cooked dinner for us he was always hanging out right there with me, always got in the way when I had to do dishes, made dinner for me at his place, showed me parts of his past I’m not sure he ever meant for me to see, would drive us everywhere cause he knew I don’t like driving, used to put the seat warmer on in his car for me and would tell me to put the seat back and nap if I was tired, He bought me a stuffed monkey for valentines because he knew I love stuffed animals. A million little things and I’m not sure what the exact definition of our involvement was, I’m not sure how much he truly cared about me but I never once questioned that he did and even though our moment ended in my heartbreak I can say that man never once did a thing to hurt me.

It was our little bubble in time, our moment and it couldn’t last unfortunately but I did love him and while I’m no longer in love with him he will always have a special place in my heart because all those little things that he did to show me he cared they healed parts of my soul that had rotted away and I would not be this version of me if it weren’t for him.

Now this man, we haven’t worked together in a while, haven’t seen him for a while. But he never did have the greatest reputation at work, cause he had a mean self destructive streak and I had a lot of people try and tell me who he was. But I know him well enough to know that without a doubt, no matter how prickly he is at first, or how many rough edges he has or how much damage he has haunting him, that man is to the bone good.

He’s done some really shitty things, and he has hurt people and those people have every right to dislike him and I would never excuse his behavior in his treatment of them but boil him down and you got a good man. wounded and as likely to attack as an injured animal but I know and if that isn’t enough now you now what I see.

Sometimes people suck, and sometimes you get hurt by knowing them but try and see them for everything they are and could be, look for the good because so many people try to hide it for fear of further hurt. So if you take away anything from my ramblings remember to never judge a person wanting until you truly see who they are.

Memory Mind-control

Baby Girl Today

Moon and stars

you are my everything

Dear sweet girl

what if drives me wild

My baby girl Tomorrow

with caustic words

I throw you away

tell you, you mean nothing

Pain cuts deep

but yesteryear’s ghosts

drive me into chaos

Dear sweet girl Tomorrow

Raging fires and smoke clears

Razor Regrets I need to Repair

Say the word I’ll do anything

 

Now My broken boy

Every truth is three sided

Breaking her heart

wont mend yours

Broken by what you can’t see

this damaged  girl

would be your everything

Now broken boy

listen close

 

my hearts been broken

and my souls cried out

If loves a ledge

I’ll leap blind everytime

if your dream is to fly

you can’t be too scared to jump

and each bloody crash

down among jagged rocks

is another chance your forever after

waiting to catch and protect you

 

Now broken boy and baby girl

third truths hard lesson

to mend your hearts

Betrayed and heartbroken

by each others fear driven hurts

stand tall

face forwards

break your own heart clean

unshackle your past

dream of golden wings

and take a leap

half of what you knew

was never true

You told me I was disgusting – FUCK YOU

So I crawled into bed because I have to be up at 4 am in the morning for work and need to get some sleep but my brains running a thousand miles a minute and its too late to take a sleeping pill without being seriously wonky in the morning.

I couldn’t sleep at all yesterday night because I spent 2.5hrs at a walk in clinic and was stressed out- today I had too book two different appointments for different tests I need done and the first available appointment with my actual family physician isn’t until the end of august. I mean I did all this crap back in grade 10 so i’m not even overly concerned consciously but my subconscious is a bitch 🙂 and that’s not whats got me all spun about right now although realistically it should probably be the bigger concern.

See it’s supposed to hit damn near 30 degrees Celsius tomorrow with the humidity and its always worse inside the factory where I work, now depending where you guys are reading from that may not seem really hot but in Canada that’s hot. I don’t do heat well, I’ve had heat stroke 8 times in the last 10 years. So early today when I was seeing all sorts of girls at work wearing short shorts and looking far more comfortable then I was feeling I decided to replace the two pairs of jean shorts that I’ve had since grade 9 (which for me was 11yrs ago) and went to the mall and got two pairs of replacements that are super comfy. They even have pockets 🙂 and for me thats a big deal because pockets are the best.  Even though I know they aren’t any shorter then any of the ones I’ve been seeing girls at work my age wearing without incident, I’m stressing out about getting in trouble for them. Which is stupid, because if they want to yell at me for them then they can damn well yell at the other 100 chicks wearing ones the same length if not shorter. I definitely saw cheek hanging out a few times at work and I know mine are too long for that.

But here’s where my brains at

I spent the first half of my school life being bullied and ridiculed and told how ugly, disgusting and dirty I was because of my body, because there is not way I could look the way I did unless I was anorexic or bulimic and back in the late 90s and early 2000s the stigma attached to those two mental illnesses was a lot uglier then it is today. I started to internalize those comments, started to believe something was wrong with me and I made my mom take me to the doctors and by me meal replacement drinks to try and bulk up even after I got a perfectly clean bill of health from the doctor and was told I wasn’t even underweight, that was back in grade six. Grade seven my parents bought a farm out in the country because my grandpa was sick and we were going to have and addition put on with a little apartment so my grandparents could move in and we could help look after my grandpa. Things didn’t really work out on that front. We moved in October 31st, by my Birthday November 30 I’d shot up maybe 4 inches and damn near double my weight from 60lbs to 105lbs. I have stretch marks all over my hips and chest if you care to look for them. I’m supposed to be ashamed of them and try and hide them according to the magazines, tv, radio ads, fuck every media source basically. I’m so god damn pale skinned because of my heritage they’re not super noticeable or otherwise i’d probably internalize that too.

I spent the years from grade 7 post growth spurt until my depression two years ago being told by my peers how much of a fucking slut I am. How dirty and disgusting and ugly I am because at 5 foot 8 inches if I go and buy a size 0 or size 1 pair of shorts they look damn short on my legs even though they’re no shorter on me then on someone 5 foot 2 inches wearing the same shorts in the same size. But no. I’m a whore because my body, which is largely out of my control, doesn’t fit standardized clothing the right way. So while half the fucking population is yelling at me for being a whore, the other half has been objectifying me since I grew tits because dontcha know I’m not a human, I don’t have a voice or rights or an opinion or ANY FUCKING WORTH outside of servicing perverts … oh and I’m a bitch with a bad attitude cause I REFUSE to play that fucking game. and I should smile more. and be friendlier. and not be so stuck up and not take myself so seriously.

Whore. Bitch. Slut. Ugly. Disgusting.

lovely labels

and there I was crying in bed because all I want is to be comfortable at work in the warm weather and I’m afraid of which reaction I’m going to get, how many people are going to yell at me, whose going to look at me like a piece of meat and make sure to come up and tell me all about my fucking body, and if or when I will get told to cover up because I’m so god damn unsightly.

But as anxious and uncomfortable as I will be emotionally I refuse to let them all fucking win, I refuse to let the voices back into my head to destroy me all over again. I spent nearly twenty years hating myself, basically from the time society could teach me that I should hate myself despite all the love my family has for me. and I am not going back to that when I’m just starting to love myself and just starting to have confidence in myself for the first time.

So I’m going to wake up exhausted from a restless night, and I’m going to shave and moisturize and put on make up and do my hair and anything else I can think of to wear as a mask and hide my insecurities behind. I’m going to pretend I’m a fucking strong women even though I don’t feel it because even if i’m terrified, if I act brave that’s a hell of a lot to do.

So anyone reading this, no matter what the world has told you about yourself. No matter where you are from, what colour your skin is, what religion you practice, what gender or sexual identity you have chosen for yourself. Look inside yourself, decide who you want to be because deep down that is who you are. maybe its scary to live up to that but you don’t have to do it all in one day. Just take it one victory at a time and you will eventually win the war.

You are strong. You are precious. You are beautiful. You are worthy and you have worth.

and if anyone tries to take that away from you get angry. get angry at them.  They are trying to steal your beauty, inner or outer, for themselves. To hide the ugliness they think is inside of them and if they didn’t believe in it so hard it wouldn’t be there for them to hide. So never let yourself believe them when they try and tell you they have the power to make you less then you are because they don’t and never will.

if you are reading this and you have struggled with an eating disorder, or any other mental or physical illness that people have judged and ridiculed you for, that society shames. I am sorry for the cruelty and I would like to tell you how amazingly inspirational and strong willed I think you are, because to be able to fight against adversity in your own mind or body AND deal with all the cruelty the world may throw your way is an amazing. In my opinion that makes you stronger then those cruel people can ever hope to be. But please, if you aren’t already on the road to recovery ask for help getting there because the world needs your light to shine bright and you most assuredly deserve every bit of health and happiness you can get for yourself.

Stay strong and never forget how wonderful each and every one of you is

lots of love – janedoe

Mista J

Let me tell you about a man. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever known. He’s the Joker to my Harley, or so our joke goes. He’s …

He’s one of the people responsible for this blog, If it weren’t for him I may not be here to write anything… or have the courage and inspiration to do so if I did still have a pulse.

See, I remember that night. Those eight long hours spent on the door line at work, surrounded by people who obviously didn’t want anything to do with someone like me. Those long hours that I spent obsessively planning how to kill myself.

The balcony is only 8 floors up, 7 from the front actually because the building is built into a hill. I may have been dead if I jumped and landed exactly right but didn’t seem like good enough odds. I mean if you’re going to kill yourself you want to make sure you do it in one shot right? Who could live with the guilt and shame if they survived and had to actually face all the people who love them and would miss them dearly.

This is Canada so swallowing a bullet wasn’t exactly an option.

Even if I had something to hang myself from, too easy to screw up the noose and end up suffocating and I’m not that brave. Or that’s how I was looking at it at the time.

That left blood, two deep cuts wrist to elbow.

I remember being weirdly fixated on not wanting to use my kitchen knives because who’d want to use them after.

I got home that night, finally. and collapsed on the other side of my door balling my eyes out. Piper came running as always and was all over me and I felt so guilty. Because this poor creature didn’t deserve to have such an awful mother as me.

And then my phone blew up with messages from a friend over sees and Mista J

Mista J who made me tell him what was up and not only did he not freak out (at least not at me) or blow me off and tell me to get over myself, he stayed up with me all night  making me talk to him. Telling me how wonderful he thought I was as a person. forcing me to see things from outside my mind, forcing me to accept that maybe I did have some worth.

He convinced me to live, convinced me to get help, that I had to go to the doctors, had to talk to the counselor at work had to stand up fight.

I went the next day and had two lines of script carved into my ribs by a fantastic artist at neon crab in london, ontario. They’re a reminder, and every-time I see them I’m reminded of that night of weakness, that I was able to overcome because of Mista J and that Life gets better. It isn’t always pretty or nice, it’s painful and gory and ugly and gods above does it hurt sometimes. Sometimes it hurts so much you think its unbearable. sometimes you’re so broken you wish you could feel pain because pain would be better then that complete despair and desolation eating at your soul.

I haven’t been the best of friends with Mista J lately, its really uncomfortable having people in your life who know so much about you and I still have a bad habit of pushing people away when they get too close, when the see to much.

But If I had the power, to grant one wish. I would wish that every single person in this world had their very own Mista J, someone so caring and unwavering in their friendship. No matter what, no matter how long you exist in silence because you can’t face them, always there.

 

Now anyone reading this. If you have ever felt anything like this, ever felt you weren’t worth it, felt you didn’t deserve to be alive, felt that the world would be better without you. Please believe me when all those voices in your head telling you that are wrong, they’re lying to you trying to make you feel worthless when honey you are a treasure to this world and loosing you would hurt so many people. you may not be able to see it right now and I understand that because I sure couldn’t see it when I was there, but you are a miracle in this shitty world and the world is a brighter more colourful more wonderful place because you exist. It can get better, but it isn’t easy. Nothing worth having is easy though so please let the people around you help, let them help pick you up and fight.

 

 

If you have heard of the show 13 reasons why, I do recommend it because it’s a very raw representation of mental health, depression, anxiety and suicide and for me seeing something so real and painful that I was feeling shown helped. Please don’t watch while feeling vulnerable as it definitely contains triggers. But even if you don’t watch it it has a wonderful page

https://13reasonswhy.info/?country=12

I like this resource because it gives the option to search by country, the Link I used is to Canada but you can easily change it to any of the listed countries available.

For people specifically in Canada a good resource is

https://thelifelinecanada.ca/help/crisis-centres/canadian-crisis-centres/

https://suicideprevention.ca/need-help/

United states

http://suicidehotlines.com/national.html

https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

India

http://www.suicide.org/hotlines/international/india-suicide-hotlines.html

China

http://www.suicide.org/hotlines/international/china-suicide-hotlines.html]

These are just a few resources, there are hundreds out there so please if the above are not right for you personally it’s just a google search away. Or Call a friend, or a family member you trust. Most importantly know you are not alone and I hope that if you do not already have a Mista J in your life that you discover one along your fight to happy.

What am I doing…

I started this because I wanted to get things off of my chest, because to me writing helps excise the demons running around my head. Its easier to live when its not so loud and angry up there. I hate talking though, and I mean even if  I didn’t I don’t exactly have people to talk too… I have my family for sure but they hurt when I hurt so I don’t like burdening them and friends are something I lack. I mean sure online it says I have them but in the real world i’m alone whenever i’m not at work or with family. My own damn fault since I spent years pushing people away. But I haven’t really been writing. I decided a while ago that I hate secrets, hate keeping shit to myself and bottling everything up so I decided to connect this to my pages. Except what I hate more then hiding things, then keeping things secret is feeling naked. Really don’t think anyone actually reads what I write because people don’t want to know your story if they know who you are but i’ve still been hiding. if i can’t even show myself here, which is why i started this in the first place, what chance do I have of learning to show myself out in the real world. to be me and find people who like me as me.

the last few months have been all over the board

went to nights and was thrown back two years in terms of my mental health over the span of three days. This time though I knew, knew where my mind was going, knew how unhealthy it was and I went and got help. got off nights. Still waiting on the appointment for the psychiatrist I’m supposed to see. Work doctor wants me assessed fully. Probably a good Idea.

Since then

well since then life should be better and in many ways it is. Works gotten better, new team on my old shift with great people. less other people drama… although less other people drama leaves more time for my mind to create drama for myself

but since then my mind keeps going back, back four years to that night summer of 2014

couldn’t tell you the date, honestly couldn’t tell you half of what happened that summer, not from that night forwards. A lot of memories are blurred together or just missing I guess

I don’t know

but it keeps going back to that night

to the confusion and hurt and dwelling there

I remember being talked into trying tinder by the girlfriend from school who was staying with us that summer for  her co-op

I remember her talking me into going on that date cause I never went out with people ever, I mean… back then i was very much determined that I was the ugly girl no one ever asked out unless it was some sort of dare or bet … maybe that idea wasn’t helped by the fact that I was asked out multiple times in high school as part of a dare or bet and I believed I wasn’t worth anything to anyone otherwise. So seemingly cute and nice guy asks me out for coffee and one of my best girlfriends at the time is egging me on so I went

he bought me a tea, green medium one sugar

we sat for hours and talked

went and sat in his truck for hours longer as we talked more

how the fuck was I so stupid, like fuck how stupid was I. never get in a car with a guy you don’t know well, safety rule number 1 as a woman and i’m an idiot who did just that

but

he was nice seeming, and charming and charismatic and put me at ease, made it seem like the most natural logical thing in the world, made it seem safe

we talked about his work and my school. about politics, the government, math and science, fractals all sorts of random things

he asked if I wanted to go for a walk and keep talking, go see the fireflies

i’d never seen fireflies before and they’d always seemed so magical to me when I read about them

and now when i do see them i feel like crying and screaming and like someone punched me in the gut but that night, when I saw them for the first time it was magical. before things went bad those fireflies were every bit as beautiful and wondrous as I imagined

I know for a fact I said no

I remember hearing crickets outside the truck it was so quiet

I remember how afraid I was and all the thoughts racing through my head

but everything else is all jumbled and fractured and fuzzy like I have bad reception on the memory, or like the files been corrupted

and my fucking brain keeps going back there trying to make the picture clearer dwelling on what i do remember as if somehow putting it all back together again will make it better, make it hurt less, make me have fewer regrets…. make me find something anything to undo the pain and make me stop blaming myself

because yes i made a lot of decisions that night that put me in a very dangerous and compromising situation and yes i could have saved myself that night if i had been smarter, made a less risky decision in trusting that man

but i didn’t and i cant change it

and

I don’t want to blame myself anymore, and any other girl in the world I wouldn’t blame

I’d tell them it wasn’t their fault, and that they shouldn’t have to live in fear of being raped and that they should be able to make those choices on a date without being raped and that it was the fault of the person who raped them, who decided to ignore them when they said no, who took away their right to their body

but i still blame myself

and I still don’t trust my judgement, second guess every decision i make, can’t trust someone I think is a good person because I was so so so fucking wrong that night

and writing about it… writing about it makes me hurt, makes me feel like a vice is around my heart, makes me cry and doesn’t make it any better, doesn’t set me free, doesn’t excise those thoughts

but if writing doesn’t help… what will

what I do know… is that I hate long weekends because at least when i’m stuck at work there are people who distract me from all this noise