In a perfect world, I wouldn’t be here.

So, this is it. My final goodbye (tuh, if only I were so brave). And here I am finding myself on a toilet, proving just how SHITTY life can be. I love my dogs, yet they are a source of guilt for me. Cookie is so cute, timid and damaged. I find myself in her and am glad I have been allowed a chapter in her life to help her see not everything is scary. Pebbles is so intuitive. She can always tell when something isn’t right. She uses herself as a weight, pressure to ease mine, as she sits on top of me. She also barks when she knows we’re arguing. She paws at me to pet her when she knows I need to feel texture, something soft to soothe this rash reality. She also brings me her ball, thinking that exercise will make anyone feel better. Hell, maybe she’s right. But the problem is that I just don’t have the energy to throw the ball anymore. I don’t have the energy to do anything anymore. Including live this wretched life that I was selected for. What did I do in the past to deserve this? I’m sorry, whatever it was. And here I am again, as it is almost 7 a.m., wondering how the day is stretching, running beyond me again. I am a mere hamster on the wheel, except for that I notice the mundane task of doing so and realize I have the option to step off. Everyone is too busy running, on autopilot, worried about the next step and I’m just worried about my last. I don’t care what you do with my body, but I want my story told when I am gone, okay (that and my dogs taken care of)? Tell everyone how I got here. And that is not to say I didn’t contribute my parts. I was a shit show from 19 to 25, hell with as much history as I had it had to manifest in myself somewhere, but now…now I am just a woman with a tendency for depression, with a history of trust issues who just wants to love and be loved in return. It’s still not easy, but that’s what I sought, simply.  I listen to the a/c fan whir in this room dimly lit by blue dragonfly lights at the twilight of 5 a.m. and feel as though I am either at a hospital or my grandma’s house (I went there when I was sick and she lit blue lights and blasted her fan). I like it because at least then I know I would be taken care of. I am ill, emotionally. Tell them all how I had no one to go to. Anonymous Reddit people provided more consolation (thank you). Tell them how you left me in my darkest hour (not to say that you had to be obligated to me, you stuck with me through a lot and I appreciate those times), and how my siblings just couldn’t read into me wanting to be invited to spend time too (it’s no one’s fault, please don’t take the guilt for this, I just want you two to live happy lives and although mom was horrible, she was young and she can’t help herself I want her to be happy too. I forgive you mom. I love you). Tell them how people who posed as friends hit me up, got my hopes up that someone could be genuinely interested in my soul, only to use me to get to you. Those people don’t matter that much, but then why does that shit hurt? People don’t know how much they can impact a fragile person. Tell them how Kay severed the cord; although, most people tend to do so with depressed people because it becomes too much. I tried to hide it from you, though —and it still happened. Which is why I don’t feel as though Julia could handle it. Why risk the last person I converse with? I’d rather keep it superficial (it’s not anyone’s fault, please don’t feel guilty). And then there will be the people who will criticize as usual and say I had those people to talk to, I just made excuses. No. Maybe you don’t get. Maybe someone who’s been here before will get it. Or maybe it’ll be like my fucking life and no one will get it. I had an inkling of a person I could expose my real raw self to without knowing they may expect some superficial “I’m okay though” response. I want to disclose that I’m not okay without the pressure of acting for anyone else’s comfort, or without being judged. No one can do that for me right now. No one. Hell, trying to get you all to understand is past the point of mattering anymore. Never mind. Tell them how I persevered, got my masters only to have my dreams ripped away from me like the dreams of immigrants (not that it’s the same, it’s not) finally reaching the U.S. border only to be met with harsh awakenings. Tell them of all the abuse. Every, last, bit. Tell them how every single mishap, underserving mishap —some of which has led to some that are deserving, has forced me to believe that I was meant to be life’s punching bag. Each jab taking something out of me. And now look at my life. It has dwindled down to nothing. Down to me being bedridden, without a job, single, broke, a bum, unwanted, fat, with nothing to contribute to society (or maybe something but I have been barred from offering what I have). I am nothing. My life is nothing. I want to close my eyes and finally feel nothing.

 

Tell them:

  1. Abusive relationships
  2. Cheating relationships
  3. Mom, oh mom
    1. Drug
    2. Gang
    3. Jail
    4. Domestic violence
    5. Psychotic breaks
    6. Physical and emotional abuse
  4. Castrating grandma
  5. Sectioned off as not one of my siblings
  6. Sexual abuse
    1. Grandpa
    2. Mom’s friends
    3. “friends”
  7. Public judgment
  8. Fake friends
  9. Harsh criminal system
  10. Everything, tell them everything!!!
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Love & Poems

My love life is like my poems right now

Fragmented

Not truly being able to be completed

Words…hearts…pounding against walls

Feeling blocked

But begging for bricks to fall

For true words to tumble out

Words that’ll explain everything

And for once make sense

Be open

Be open to me

Am I the only one in this duo who feels we’re meant to be?

What’s more to beg is…are you moving on from me?

I care

I know someone who believes

That if they were to leave

Thank no one would care five days later

Like her life is filled, full of haters

Who -for their own good -act like they care

Can you compare?

I know that there are times when I’ve been there

But four years with you is what I cherish

So I wouldn’t be embarrassed

To say that if I live to see you gone -I couldn’t bare it

Since you didn’t know

I thought I’d share it. 🙂

About Suicide

 

Having you leave me is like having half of my heart die off

Like trying to enjoy the view with the lights off

It’s not something I can bear to think of right off

Trying to navigate, “what’s the right thing to say? What is appropriate to do?”

Like playing minesweeper, avoiding all the bombs so I can make my way into the core of you

Trying to figure how to help you alleviate this, is a job I’m taking on with only half the tools

Trying to act like a clinician when I don’t even yet have my MSW

I could never sit back and watch this, and not think of anything to do

I relayed information to the clinician, but only after permission from you

What is the correct intervention –and when is it okay to cross the line?

How do I tread the distance between you feeling safe with me and me saving your life?

So many times, for myself I’ve texted, the suicide hotline

Tonight I am texting them again, but not for me this time

You are the future I see myself with

So if you were to go, my future would die

Seeing you in so much pain has me crying

I want to take on all your symptoms, so you can have some time

To reclaim all you weren’t given since childhood, to fill that “shell” of yours with something inside.

Day 6

My brother…

Different dad, same mother

But still siblings nonetheless

I love him like no other

But he’s back

Back in a state of suicide

Depression on his mind

Who told him his life wasn’t worth living

That his existence was a lie

In the hospital he lies

Lying about his thoughts of suicide.

It’s time for family to jump on board

This is it: do or die.

30 day poetry challenge

I’ve fallen off the face of the literary earth, ceasing to pay attention to the one escape I use when I need it the most.

Life has gotten the best of me.

So, in a last ditch effort to get back to what I love, I will be completing a poetry challenge. ^_^

Lets see if anyone can figure out the poetry challenge of the day simply by reading my pieces, then at the end I will post the challenges so you can see if you guessed right.

Cheesy? I know.