Open Topic

Expendable.

EXPENDABLE, of little value or significance compared to the overall purpose. Abandoned.
Have you ever felt like this in your life? You were an unnecessary add on. You will not be missed. This is the state in which I currently reside. I am expendable, to my friends and even to myself. I am of little importance. My feelings not considered. My heart now aching.

Depressed, in a state of general unhappiness. Despondent.
This is where I live and have lived for a long time now. Therapy, medication, more therapy. Sure, it helps sometimes. The panic attacks may have stopped. The anxiety seems under control, but it’s still there. It is always there. Haunting me, like a ghost.

Everyday I look in the mirror. Some days I tell myself that I am beautiful and I am worthy of a great life and love. Other days however, I see myself as a person who is unloved, unhappy, and ugly from the inside out. Put a smile on my face and no one will know. Stay distant and no one will find out. Cry in the shower so no one sees. Try to fall asleep, but know the thoughts in your head will not allow it.

The anxiety comes; breathe, and stop shaking. The shaking gives it away.

Still ugly? Throw up until all the pounds melt away. They like me skinny. It is beautiful. If my clothes get tight, I must hide. Sweatshirts cover it all. This is wrong. I must remind myself. Saying my mental mantra ‘you are beautiful, you are worthy of love, you are not fat’ every single day. I know it is true, but maybe one day I will actually believe it.

I am okay. I am dramatic. I am selfish. I am judgmental. I am sad, but I am okay. Work hard to be better. Maybe if I pretend to be the person I want to be, eventually I will become her. That though seems far fetched often times, but there are moments of clarity. In these moments, I feel the happiness and the confidence, but it does not last. It never does.

My parents are worried. I do not want to worry them. Smile. Tell them that you are doing great. Cry later when they are not there.

I suffer from anxiety induced depression, I am lost, lonely, and often times sad. Over the years, I learned to cope. I deal with it, suppress it, and force myself to go out and be normal. It starts to work. I am happy until I am not anymore.

I do not want to die, but I also do not want to feel this way. I want a future, with a husband and children. I want true love and a happy career. I sometimes just have a hard time believing that I will ever get that. I will never hurt myself, that is the easy way out. Life is struggles. These struggles will shape me and make me a better person one day.

My problems do not define me. They are daily road blocks that I must work to overcome. I have been able to overcome them all so far, and I will continue doing so until they are all gone. They will go away. I have to believe that.

I think I am a happy person until I am alone. I sink. My feelings dragging me until I am choking for breathe. The first gasp of air is a relief. I am fine for now, but I will sink again. I always do.

Open Topic

Broken Girl.

It started at a young age when she knew something was wrong with her. It was hard in the beginning the way he looked at her the way he touched her. Everything seemed to fade into black as she tasted the salty tears that fell from her eyes. She was scared at first, that first time changed her. It’s like living in a dark whole in your mind, you don’t want to be you anymore, you want to hide in the tears that fall from your eyes, you want to run, but there’s never a place to hide. So you sit there and fade into the eyes of the monster as he takes your screams as a invite to invade your soul. Your cries go unheard, your words go unspoken, as you lay and watch every hope and dream go out the room. You look in the mirror at this broken girl who are you. Why can’t they see what’s happening? Why can’t they save you? No one is there, no one cares. What happened to the sweet happy girl they once knew. That girl is dead, she understands now who she is, what she is. Days are dark, the face of the monster is burned into her dreams. What is he a monster, a ghost that haunts every memory, what they see is not what is. That monster took who she was, her dreams. She’s nothing more, the shell of who she use to be. The time faded, the days grew darker, the nights grew longer. She awoke to find he was gone, the days started to get brighter, the monster was gone, no more pain. It was hard for awhile, every night she feared he would return. The nightmares started the fear of what he did. All the nights she layed awake crying, remembering the evil snake that broke her flesh, that made her bleed. The sound of his zipper pierced her ears every night. What was in his eyes? Was it regret? Was it fear? Nothing but pure evil. She wanted the nightmares to stop, but they seemed to get worse every night. In bed she lied, unspoken, broken, who was she a whore for letting this go on? It was a never ending nightmare she tried to escape from, but it pulled her back down into the darkness every time.

One person can steal it all over night, your life can go from sunshine to rain in a few minutes. The look will haunt everything you do, you can look in the mirror without seeing who you use to be. Who am I,? She whispers into the mirror that holds everything from the tears she cried to the blood dripping to the floor. She doesn’t understand anything anymore, her soul is darkened by the blood stained panties she hid away that holds her weak soul barley hanging on. Slowly walking towards the end of the bed that she once slept on, now only nightmares and broken dreams lay waiting for. She lays her weak body onto the bed hoping one day to be free from this. As soon as she closes her eyes, she sees what could only be described as a soulless evil monster, night after night she saw him getting near her. Everything seemed to slow down as he touched her scared cold body, she begs, but it never helps. What came the next night put her to ease knowing that night it would all be over. Walking to the dresser grabbing the only friend she’s ever known. She stares at the shiny blade that knew her pain thinking tonight I will sleep forever, never to return.

She fills her lungs for the last time and splits her wrist over and over, until the blade falls from her hand. Day dreaming of her soul leaving her cold lifeless body, closing her eyes she sees the light. Almost dead as she hears the screams of her family asking why begging for her to live. They don’t realize it’s to late, death has taken her by the hand leading her to the smell of burning bodies. As she enters the fire, she awakes to bright lights and doctors telling her she will be ok . The end she hoped for was stolen from her broken body, cut, weak, and brushes by the sent of death. Death seemed so good at the time, she said her goodbyes to the world that has broken and shattered her, not only on the inside, but on the outside too.

Her story only became worse as the doctors tried to figure out why she was so broken, but no one understood. Should she lie and say it was the last time knowing it was only going to make it worse? Or should she tell the truth and get help.? Could they handle the truth, or would it break them too? She remembered the wind between her fingers as she went down the road, not thinking just family who loved her, who needed her. Was she part of the last shattered army can she escape? Even when she’s around her family, she feels as if she doesn’t belong! why is she so pushed away by everyone as if she’s just trash in a sea of dark souls pulling her down farther into what they call happiness, but how is it happiness when all she feels is lost?? Is lost all she ever knows, the feeling of never belonging, never being loved, never feeling like she’s home. What does it mean to be loved? Is it just a story like the ones being told to kids the happy ever after never seeing the lies that they are told? They don’t know about the flashbacks that only got worse as the day of flames approached. The day was ending when she closed her eyes, the sour memory came into her sleepy eyes. It was cold outside, but she could still feel the heat from the flames that glow in the night, the smoke burned her nose as she cried. Her family stand beside her as she watched everything burn before her eyes. The smell, the cold air, the windows bursting as they run out the house. Everything was gone so fast as they fight the fire why must this happen what did we do wrong. The night, grew to day as they sit in a hotel still crying still fighting. They were strong, but there was one person stronger then the rest..my hero, my father, the one who carried me to safety. She awoke to smoke and flames, he picked the sleeping princess up fighting for air as the smoke covered the rooms. The flames spread so fast as we ran, I still remember looking up and seeing the roof covered with orange and red flames spreading faster then the tears running down my cheeks.

That night, I knew we would never be the same, the fire took everything from us. The sound of windows busting still echos in my head as I close my eyes to fall asleep, do they even understand who she was before this? She remembered the girl who gave her a praying bear after the fire, saying it will be ok, God has a plan. What fucking plan was this showing? How fire can destroy a loving family turn them against each other, what once was love is now a shadow in the mind of a broken child, a child who will never see light in her mother’s eyes again, a child who will never hear her father say “I love you” again, or a brother and sister as there protesters all of it gone. All they see in her now, is the girl who tried to kill herself…..

They didn’t know who she was, they didn’t care. The time was there, she knew it wouldn’t help, but what could she do, fight saying she was alright, no this was not true, she was broken and shattered into that girl she needed help to save her from what they saw her as. As she walked in, she saw the broken souls of what once was happy people destroyed by the world. Would she be ok after all? Do they truly see who she is and want to fix how she feels?? The story of her life was finally being told, as hard as it is, she would be ok or so she believed. The time she spent there was harder then what she thought it would be, everyday she remembered of what she tried to hide, they promised it would help but it did nothing but bring the hate and anger back. She was done, she wanted to go home, why wont they let her leave? Why is it so hard to forget the things she was hiding? How could they tell her she is strong, when she wasn’t? The anger started to rise like the sun, I felt the heat
from the rage that boiled from within, as I screamed, not stopping, even as the tears ran down my face, I couldn’t stop I just needed all my anger to be heard.

They all came running to see this girl they all thought was strong break so fast. What they saw was someone not only haunted by her past, but a girl that had nothing else in this world, she was nothing but a lost soul looking for something that isn’t there. The anger was the last voice she had, and she wanted everyone to hear it.

What came next shocked everyone as she raised from the floor, she screamed to the top of her lungs and drove her nails into her wrist going as deep as she could. Tears still running down her cheeks, she felt the blood and a evil smile came to her face as she felt the warmth of the anger and pain leaving her body. The nurses came so fast she can’t even think before they grab her and take her to the padded room.

Her mind was full of voices telling her she was nothing, she was a whore, she was a broken piece of shit, as she lays there with tears falling as she ask God why he would do this to her? Why would he be so cruel? Does she deserve this what did she do so wrong? Is this what life is, being told your nothing, being hurt, having her life mean nothing? How can she live knowing she’s nothing to the world?

All she knows is hate and pain, what is life truly about to be hated, to be used, to be a worthless whore? Will the pain ever stop? Will her heart stay broken? Will the evil one take the rest of her? Things will never change, this is all she will ever knows!

As they take the last piece of self respect she had, they all look happy as she looks up at them and prays for the end to come, she can’t live this life, she’s better off dead, this isn’t life it’s hell she screams as they slam the door. She hears the muffled screams of the other broken souls, but can’t do anything to help them, she can’t even help herself! All the lies she has told to her family and friends echo in her head as the screams get louder. That one night turned her into a liar, a whore, a girl that no one would ever love.

She should have told them what he did to her, what they all did to her, but fear stopped her, how could they not see? Were they blind or just scared?? Like so many questions enter her mind keeping her awake, the evil one caused it, it began when he entered that night, it was over, her life ended she was a shell! When the other entered her life, she was already broken, she was gone and no one knew……

One turned into five so fast she was just their toy, they all used her, she couldn’t fight anymore, couldn’t scream, she was lifeless as they took turns taking the rest of her body and destroying it. She lay there naked scare, but her voice gone “God please take me” she kept saying in her mind as there cold hands touch her over and over, why do they keep doing this? She was already dirty, she was already gone, but they wanted more. She had nothing else but they still used her broken body for their pleasure, after they were done, she put her clothes on walked to her room and cried that whole night, no one would even believe her, what was she to do?

She wasn’t the only one he hurt. I was 14, I try to find peace, but I can’t seem to get the flashbacks out of my head. Knowing we had each other, her legs bruised as they pulled them apart, her voice lost from the screams, blood still running from her mouth, eyes full of tears, I grab her and hold her close, I know she can’t keep going if she wanted a normal life, I was already broken so I take her place, promise not to scream or fight to keep her safe. I was older, I could handle it, she was just a kid, she didn’t need to know the pain of this. I kept my promise not to fight or scream as they have their way with me, I do as they wish just hoping she’s ok. I held it all in, all the feelings, all the tears, all of it not letting a single word out, until now.

Open Topic

Give Her A Reason To Stay.

My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life. Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh…And it haunts me every time I close my eyes.

I should’ve bought you flowers and held your hand. Should’ve given you all my hours, when I had the chance. Take you to every party. ‘Cause all you wanted to do was dance.” -Bruno Mars

Don’t take her love for granted.

Don’t think she’ll always be there.

Don’t expect everything to be the same if you aren’t reciprocating what she’s giving.

Don’t pick and choose when you care, thinking you can put her on some back burner.

Don’t give her a reason to walk away because all she wants to do is stay.

Don’t let her fall for you when you’re only going to catch her sometimes.

Don’t ignore her when she gives you her undivided attention. 

Don’t make her question herself.

Or feel dumb for loving someone like you.

Don’t be the reason she’s up at night not sleeping at 2am missing you.

Because you’re there but not there the way she needs you to be.

Don’t make her feel like her best isn’t good enough.

Don’t mess with her head because you’re unsure of what’s going on inside your own. 

If you like her, do something.

If you like her, say something.

Show her through gestures that she matters and you are choosing her.

But more than choosing, you’re making her a priority.

You’re making time for her.

Meet her halfway because she’d be willing to go all the way.

Don’t keep her close to boost your own confidence. 

Don’t hurt her.

Don’t disappoint her.

Because she’d never do the same.

If you care about her, even a little and you can’t reciprocate it, let her go.

Because she doesn’t deserve to feel empty as she gives away pieces of herself to keep you whole.

She isn’t like the rest of them.

Value her. 

Appreciate her.

Make her yours.

Or let her go so someone else can.

But the thing is, she doesn’t want to leave. 

She just wants you to want her.

And love her. The same way she loves you.

But she’d never ask that.

Instead, she’ll wait patiently hoping something will change.

“He could feel her letting go; with every word she spoke she sounded distant. And he found himself reaching more than before. Although he never said it, he didn’t want her to go.”

Open Topic

It’s A Generation.

Some say I have high and unrealistic standards for this generation. In a dating culture where a lot of people think courting is defined by Instagram likes and ‘meeting for drinks’ instead of dinner, that sort of thing doesn’t fly with me. 

Call me. Don’t text me.
Don’t meet me somewhere. Pick me up.
Don’t snap me when you’re here. Knock on my door.
Open any door I walk through.
Take my jacket.
Pull out my chair.
Pay.
*Not because I’m not able to, believe me, if I couldn’t afford a meal, I’d be working and not going on dates. Pay out of respect.
Walk me to my door.
Don’t expect to come inside.
Kiss me goodbye.
And follow up.
Send flowers.
Tell me you enjoyed seeing me and would like to again. 

Introduce me to your family and friends. Maybe not right away, but in due time.

Because if I like you and care about you and I’m spending time with you that I could be spending with my own friends and family, they are going to want to know about you.

You treat me well and with respect, I will treat you better. That’s always been how relationships in my life work. I treat people I care about very very well.

So when I say I have high standards and expectations, it’s because that’s what I’d be willing to do.

And if standards and self-respect make me unattractive, I’d rather be alone than kind of sort of talking to someone.

Talking is bullshit. Talking is the sad excuse people use today when they fear commitment. 

With me, it’s either in or out.

That blunt forward honesty is something a lot of us are missing. It’s being replaced with being coy and playing hard to get and ignoring the person you like, because you’re told you shouldn’t like them that much or show it.

Fuck that.

If I like you, you will know. The truth is, I don’t feel shame in feelings or crushes, especially because falling for someone isn’t something we can control, so why be ashamed of it? 

Why settle?

Why only invest half your heart and half commitment into someone?

I’ve done the in between almost relationships, this kind of being something but it isn’t my thing. All that comes of that is wasted time and emotion because when you like someone, you commit to them. No questions asked. No games played.

We are in a generation where swiping has replaced walking up to someone you like and pursuing them because everyone fears rejection, but if it’s across a screen the blow doesn’t hurt as much.

A generation where ghosting has become normal because it’s easier to fade out than admit I don’t like you and I don’t want to see you again.

It’s a generation where people are getting hung up on likes and text messages and snap chats.

When in reality, none of those things matter.

It’s a generation where people are having sex and casual relationships, but finding love and a stable relationship has become more difficult.

It’s a generation where people are taught love is supposed to be a game and those devices used to connect us, do nothing but make us grow more apart.

It’s a generation where one wrong move can get you unmatched or unfriended or blocked with no explanation as to why other than that person felt like it.

So everyone proceeds with caution out of fear of looking too vulnerable or making the slightest wrong move. Dating today has made everyone paranoid AF.

But the only way to get to love, isn’t through tricks or playing hard to get, it’s through letting your guard down and letting someone in.

Getting the type of love you hope for, comes in what you are willing to do to get there.

It comes with taking risks and standing face to face in front of the person you admire more than anyone in the world and telling them how you feel, even if you want to throw up right in front of them saying those things. There’s a moment pause where you hope and pray to God they say it back. And it’s those moments that make everything worth it. Because even if you get hurt, you at least were brave enough to try.

Being brave enough to risk something in hopes of gaining something more, is what we are missing today.

That type of feeling can’t even compare to likes and messages and snap chats.

I don’t look at myself as a hopeless romantic, but rather one who is hopeful. Someone who believes in 50-year love stories. Someone who doesn’t believe in divorce or walking away when committing to someone. I believe you can love a single person your entire life.

And I refuse to lower the standards I’ve been taught to have simply because everyone else around me is lowering theirs.

And maybe the way I date and the things I look for in someone is old fashion, but maybe generations before us got it right in ways we still need to learn how to.



Open Topic

Why “Surrender To Win” Seems Like A Contradiction.

The words “surrender to win” do not make much sense at first glance, but the concept is a key component of addiction recovery. In terms of combat, surrender means to stop fighting. It is associated with losing and with giving up to an opponent. In terms of recovery, surrender becomes “surrender to win” because of the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual benefits that will be gained. For an alcoholic or addict, the notion of giving up alcohol or the drug of choice is terrifying. Once an individual has become dependent on alcohol or drugs to be a constant companion and to help alleviate fear, tension, insecurity and resentment, the idea of making decisions and taking action without relying on substances is intimidating at best. It seems impossible. The fear of facing withdrawal symptoms, which often can be quite severe, also turns people away from seeking treatment. In surrendering the battle with alcohol and drug addiction, however, the end result is winning. By giving up, or surrendering, lies, deceit, financial and legal troubles, physical illness and emotional confusion, an alcoholic or drug addict begins the journey toward winning back a productive life.

When Addicts ‘Surrender To Win,’ They Gain Freedom

When alcoholics and drug addicts decide to seek treatment and “surrender to win,” they have everything to gain. By learning that they cannot control the thoughts and actions of others, they are free to work on themselves. By learning that they can redirect their thinking and restore their physical health without the use of chemical substances, they are free to make new choices. By learning about the underlying emotional issues that have contributed to their addiction, they are free to explore new relationships and healthier ways to communicate. By learning about the spiritual deficit that accompanies addiction, they are free to experience a world of greater depth and meaning.