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!!!
Advertisements

You’re okay

It hurts too much when
The thought of you hanging out with your mistress’ mutual friends
Distresses me
Even when she is states away
Because the thought that she gets to see you again -even on Snapchat -drives me insane
Because I want to erase everything ever associated with us coming out this way
You seem all too okay

Hustle

My career striving has been 15 years in the making

I’ve moved mountains, only to have more placed in front of me

I’ve been homeless, kicked out by a drug-addicted, manic-depressive mother at 17

I struggled through that, got two jobs and still my dreams were pressing me

Went to community college, survived DV

Made it into undergrad and graduated despite things

Got a DUI, bounced back

Grad school’s where I’m at

And now, yet again, despite intentions

Messed up systems keep pushing me back

They won’t hold me back

I’ve come too far

So I’ll do what I have to do

Sleep in a car

Take two steps back

But nothing will stop my drive to live a life from helping people

Like me and you

You’re not touching me

After two long weeks of writing, I told myself I never wanted to write again

Yet here I am

Eagerly pushing to pen out this piece

All because of what you did to me

You say have a certain respect for people when they’re sleep

Not me

You must consider me lower than a person

Must think I’m some kind of extra burden

You’ve been looking for a way out

Trying to pick a fight with me, I stay away

Didn’t even know I fell asleep on the couch

Until I feel lights on and hear you rustling around

In and out

Mind groggy, I’m sorry for whatever way I offended you when I asked if you can turn the lights out

But I was met with a foul mouth

“I’ll turn them off when I want”

I know it was a taunt

So instead, I decide to go to bed

In the other room

Yet here you come

This impending doom

As I lay back you snatch the pillow and I knew

I knew! I knew you were trying to fight

I gave you your space, but you still weren’t satisfied

You wanted me to suffer

Waking up this morning, I ask myself why

Why did I have to feed into that line?

Yet the other side

Is like

She doesn’t have to disrespect you, if you can withhold she can try

And then I buy

I stooped down low to your level, instead of saying, “girl, bye”

Like I’ve done the last three times

You, in your mania, tower over me

Provoke me

Over a pillow

There’s got to be something else

There’s got to be someone else

Or some underlying discomfort with the fact I went to sleep peacefully last night

It’s sad because, while I’ve thought 100 times about what I could’ve done different

You probably feel justified

Leo, right?

Ha

For myself, my expectations are not to respond to the taunting

Leave if someone’s on me

Let it go

Then…

Let you go

I’m tired of being the person who is always telling myself, “Amber, she’s mad just let it go”

The more I do it, the more you won’t leave it alone

Damn, I guess my grumpiness from being startled out my sleep got the best of me

There’s a thin line

There’s a thin line

And we tread it

Daily

You ever look at mass murderers

And say, “how did it get there?”

You see testimonies of people who knew them saying, “he was quiet, didn’t appear to be capable of doing that.”

I’m wondering how we got here again

My insides screaming, “that’s not me”

But last night it was

What was it?

Was it the tequila

How did we get here?

One night, one lie turned our world upside down

Can I attribute it to me not taking my medicine?

How diminishing

That I need that

Furthermore, that I cannot afford that

Society wants you to be a model citizen

But if systematic dysfunction has left your family with generations of depression and anxiety

They do not provide the means for you to do so

I feel helpless

 

A letter to myself

You are not useless. You are not a bad person. You are dedicated to those you love and to growing yourself and you should still love yourself despite your mistakes, because you are still figuring out what’s “normal,” because you never knew what normal was. You are human and you will make mistakes but you will grow. As long as you know that your mistake was of pure heart and you are dedicated to learning from that then no malice was done.

 If someone who you showed all your scars to can walk away during your healing then they don’t deserve to have you when you are healed, nor were they willing to wait.

The most beautiful flower blossoms late.

Why it’s so hard for me to leave

Banksy heart balloon

Leaving, for me it’s a scary thing

I’ve never really left anything

I can’t take credit for leaving my abusive ex-boyfriend

I tried, but I distanced myself until it was enough to push him to leave me

I never left my first job

I tried, but I just was absent for extended periods of time until they shut down

I never left my second job

I just acted however I wanted, until we came to an amicable agreement

The one thing that I did leave, without any fear

Was home.

And since then I’ve been on a search for where my existence belongs

Usually burying my heart into others

Until they’ve had enough and they dig it up

I tried leaving it alone

The whole relationship thing

But no matter what, I just… can’t… leave

Maybe I’m in love with the struggle in me

I’m always striving to reach new heights

Excuse me if my optimism tries to trump your pessimism

Or maybe it’s my paranoia

My optimistic future always my hope, but my pessimistic past to remind me

I want to let go and not feel, and then maybe I wouldn’t have to attach myself to a life with you

Attaching my family to a future with you

Just attaching period

Dealing with your periodic detachment

We always rehash it

Feeling like I fool when I don’t agree with you

You drag me with you as you leave

Clinging to the edges of your attire as if you were Jesus himself

I said I want to let go, to be lost, and in this moment I am lost in the now.

If only I could write forever…