the (not so) pretty truth

* This post was written by me in 2013, but the original host site it was posted on does not exist anymore, so I am re-posting it here.

Fun fact, this post is how my husband found me, by reading these exact words and connecting to everything I had to say. 6 years married now, because of such a random twist of fate.

A lot has happened since writing this, including clarity that I was still very very mentally unwell. I was still living with and surrounded by my toxic family. I wasn’t in therapy. And I wasn’t being completely honest with myself yet. Nevertheless, I still want this to be out there as part of the beginning of my healing.

I am also disabling likes & comments. This just needs to be here, left alone.

Continue reading

one day, maybe i will fly

Sometimes its so hard for me to see beauty. I feel so blackened, so burnt. Pieces of my skin fall off, and I leave my ashy mark on every path I step foot on. The public bathrooms are my sanctuary; I lift my feet up above the door, and I curl up, and I wait to be alone. I don’t want this world to spin anymore. Why won’t it slow down? Why is everyone out to hurt me? I want to look around and see good people; to allow myself to believe that their smiles aren’t fake. I want to breathe in kindness, authenticity, loyalty. I want to see beauty in the eyes of these ugly people, whose shadows give their burdened hearts away. Continue reading

hi phil

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My skin still burns. The pain feels current, even though the waves of the abuse have long since washed away. Why do I still feel you? Why do I still see you? Your touch leaves a residue; a grime that I cannot scrub off. Your prescence is hiding in my closest, under my bed, next to me while I sleep. I feel your eyes on me when I stand naked in the shower, when I cry alone on the floor.

You are not gone yet. Continue reading

broken, healing

There are pieces of me strewn along the office floor. There are parts of me hiding in the drawers of the guest room. Pieces of me hiding under my bed, thrown into the closets, sleeping under my pillow. Each pile of things represents a different part of me, of my life. They are unorganized and unmindful. They are sad and mean. They are kind and empathetic. They are reaching out to be held. Continue reading

please, don’t leave me

had a bad dream again last night.

i wake up to the back of his neck. i nuzzle my face into his skin and i repeat
i need you
i need you
i need you Continue reading

thankful

I will not deny it, things haven’t been so easy as of late. I seem to have slipped into some kind of comfortable sadness; some form of loving loneliness. This is how things used to be, not how they should be now. But I suppose that is the artistry of depression, it cares not for circumstance. Continue reading

fix me, dr.

I started counseling again yesterday. I don’t know what I expect to gain here, but I knew that I needed to try. She told me that she wanted me to write down some goals that I have for this counseling thing, and to bring them next week. Goals? Continue reading

dreams i have had

it’s not easy saying goodbye. some days, i don’t hurt as much. others, i hurt a lot. i get scared, because goodbyes have always been hard for me. goodbyes have been final. they have meant the end. you turn a … Continue reading

that one time i was a mormon- part 3

Click here for Part One

Click here for Part Two

Yes, I was homeless. Basically what happened was that my mom was in a mood, and coerced my little sister to send me some very vicious messages. Words that likened me to the worst of the worst. Typical of my mother. Needless to say, I packed up what I could fit into two garbage bags and walked down my parent’s gravel driveway and sat down on the sidewalk. I called Linda. Continue reading

new home, old fears

Sometimes I feel like I’m still drowning, and I don’t even know why. I look around this place, my life. I have this beautiful home now. A spacious gem that I never would have imagined I could actually live in. I unpack my things and walk room to room as I try to figure out where everything will go, and then I go up  and climb into our new bed and I watch a movie on my new computer. And then I sleep. And I dream. Nightmares.

I am still so scared. Continue reading