Dear me

Dear Me,
Why is that you find it so hard to justify doing what is good for you?
How come when you know you are so unhappy that you are struggling so much to do it?
If you do what you need to are afraid of hurting another? Are you afraid of the repercussions? Because really you are dead now, truly.
Do you believe that living in this unhappy existence will prove that you never give up?
How about for a minute put someone else in your shoes..what would you tell them??!!




Giving is something you can give of yourself to another. It doesn’t hurt if it is freely given. The reward is helping another or just making someone happy. It is full of love. No expectation of return is expected or needed.

There is another kind of giving that injures the self. It is the kind that is taken without regard to anothers well-being or hurt. It is the kind that is given by force.

Behaviors like neglecting your own needs is something that can be learned. Having no bounderies or personal rights as a child, I thought it was always my purpose to give myself endlessly. It was not asked, it was expected.

I didn’t realize I had the right to have my own space or make decisions for my life. These simple things are everyone’s basic rights. Wow. Imagine how freeing it is when you have never had that and suddenly you do. It is shocking, almost frightening. But then you realize this is what it should have been. I am okay. I can do this. I need to. Be free. To grow.

It is a process. I know it must be because I keep stumbling. I torture my self with- “you don’t deserve guilt.” I am easily manipulated by people pleasing and down right hurtful controlling behavior that makes me feel like nothing. I am getting it though. Day by day my strength for self perserving is reaching new places. Honestly, I am dying inside when I continue to live this unhealthy giving behavior. I can feel it destroying me. I must grow to survive. I am seeing things much clearer. But, seeing is not always believing. So step-step- step.

I carried a tray full of glasses while he carried gun. I had to keep all the secrets that kept my mother, brothers and pets alive while he watched in drunken mockery. I can’t save anyone. I was the hero. I don’t want to be the hero. I can’t save me.

Here I am

There are days that you want to give up the fight. To keep going when everything seems so unbelievable unbearable seems impossible. Mostly these things are surrounded by dark thoughts of days that progress to years with flashbacks and feelings of hopelessness and the terrifying feeling of being in ones own skin. The further I sink the further I withdraw from what could potentially help me. I find myself compromising with anyone and everyone I deal with. “Yes, whatever makes you happy.” I hate being

a doormat but at the same time it seems healthier than self harm or restrictive eating. I need to find, I long to find, the happiness that I can carry around with me wherever I am and whoever I am around. I want it so badly, to have inner peace. The very answer lies within myself. I know it. I
just need to believe that I deserve it. My three most often repeated words, “I am sorry.”
Sorry for not fixing myself. Sorry for being abused. Sorry for being depressed or anxious. Sorry for not fixing everything that I messed up.
Stupid words and stupid thoughts. Like as if someone can be to blame for everything that goes wrong on in the world…a very difficult thing to understand. Thoughts that have gone on and on since it was my fault that I was too sexy as an 11 year old.

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