Avoidance

Any day now, I will get a new laptop and it won't be as slow as the one I've got now. Just kidding. That is so low on the priority list right now, but it would be a nice thing to do. I don't remember the last time I used it, but I'd probably use it more if I refurbished it. Anyway.

I made myself drive to the coffeehouse I've met Megan at a few times now, and I am making myself sit still and type and drink a latte. It's been a while since I've done this, and it was my heart and soul when I was in school. I gave myself time to write a lot more back then, but I also needed it to keep my creative inspo flowing. Today is heavy. It seems like it's heavy for the barista that took my order, too. "Living the dream" was his response when I asked how he was. We all know that is code for "I really can't say how I am." I hate phrases like that. Just be obscurely honest. It's rough day, but I'll be okay. My instinct is to seem like I am really well, not necessarily happy, but strong. My latte cost $7 with a tip, so you can perk up for a second, buddy.

I'm avoiding why I'm here. Why am I at a coffee shop, making myself pause and drink a latte, and use this stupidly slow computer? I need to talk. I'm going to cry. I don't know if I'm depressed. There are some things about how I am now that I don't know if I am apathetic or if I'm depressed. Do things that made me happy not make me happy anymore because I don't care about them or has my imbalanced brain told me otherwise? I guess I should simply try to live in the moment and not overthink about it. If something doesn't matter right now, then I should just keep moving and not make an ordeal out of it.

Part of me doesn't want to put in the energy to talk about my brother or my sister. I've spent years wringing myself dry trying to be empathetic and placing effort, energy, love, and investment in them. But I can't do it anymore, and it's for various reasons. I can't compare them because they aren't the same, but they still manage to treat people like shit whom they supposedly value most. He is a lazy, coward who lives in self-pity and regret. She is a bully who lives in denial and thinks gifts and attention will fill the emptiness and guilt living in her body. I don't care if their feelings are based on valid experiences. They use how they feel and what they think to inflict pain on others, and they use guilt to try to control. You will not guilt me. You will not use me.

I held anger and hurt so deeply in my body, and I still do this. I try to bury it and beat my body into submission. I used to self harm, I used to punch my own chest, I used to over workout, and I still push myself into submission. But I am trying to surround it with healthy goals and healthy thoughts. The difference now is I go to the gym to build myself up, sort through heavy feelings, and make true progress. I am obsessive about it, but it's been in my life for 6 years now.

Maybe this won't turn into a rant, but I know it's good for me to write when I am heavy. I don't write songs anymore, but I still write poetry. It's much more direct and raw than ever before. Maybe that's the message I am supposed to be getting to, being more direct and raw. I don't mean that I will verbally attack them, but part of me doesn't know. I want to have the courage to address the issues head on, and I know that when I am forced to, I don't back down. People underestimate me. My family definitely does, but they will learn, and I know they are learning already. I was viewed like I was little, tiny, baby, fragile, undetermined, broken, selfish, fake, weak, quiet, passive, changeable, easily swayed... Nope. That isn't me. It's strange how the one person that was viewed like this, so tiny and impressionable, is the one that everyone wants approval from. That's why they try to make me smaller and cuter and sweeter than I really am. They want me to like them and always be looking up to them.

I don't fight for people. I love for them. I've had to take up so much space trying to fill in the cracks where people didn't love me enough. And I'm done. I'm done doing that. That's when my best friendships were realized. People who made me want to fight to hold on, who made me want to fight things out, talk things out. I've stopped trying to keep the peace with people I love most and been more direct and raw. It's scary, and I still get so much anxiety, but I confront them. (Thank God not all my friends and I have had to fight, but I do at least talk that shit out now). But I will never be in a place like that with my brother and sister. Unless, some divine miracle were to happen, and healing and real growth were to blossom on their hearts. 

Hurt

When did I get misrepresented as this impressionable piece of clay? I know that we start that way when we are children, but we watch and listen, we grow and become. There seems to be this belief among some that I don't form my own opinions, and that I am easily persuaded toward this way or that. No, I am not as stubborn as the majority of my family, and I am not spiteful or aggressive like most of them either. I am not less because of that. It isn't necessary to me to fight for fighting's sake. It isn't important for me to have all my thoughts heard, understood, and accepted. I realized a long time ago that I am the only one who will every fully have my own back, but it isn't just me. We are all that way, and yet people refuse to accept that. It's useless to try to make someone be okay with something they've decided they aren't, and it's nonsense to try to push someone into doing something they don't want to do. Yet my family talks to me like I have to be pliable and changeable toward their wills and their whims. They talk to me like their feelings and beliefs are facts, and they justify their anger, meanness, and pettiness. It is not my problem that they can't separate themselves from their identity in their beliefs. It is not my job to cater to each one of them. I won't pick up the responsibilities of 5 other people. This isn't a college group project; this is supposed to be a family.

I was not truly important to you until you thought we could be on the same team. All you have ever wanted from me was a devoted follower of whatever bullshit you ascribed meaning. Excuse me if I don't blindly attack someone once I hear all sides to a story. Sorry I don't say sorry and beg for forgiveness when I know I am not wrong and it is a matter of difference of opinion. I have a lot more agency here than most of you have been willing to give me. I have been making my own choices for a very long time, guilt stricken and anxiety riddled, and I've made it here. I never asked for your opinion and I haven't offered mine. Why can't differences just be accepted and we can exclude ourselves from each other's social media or personal beliefs to keep the peace? Unity is more important than black and white thinking. Honestly, if it were up to the jaded part of me, I'd thrown in the towel, and move to a place none of you could ever find me again.

This is me making a promise to myself to always stand up for me. I will not let them knock me around again. I will not let them silence me. Their manipulations and ploys to guilt me into being who they want or doing what they want will not have a hold on me. I will not play into their hand. I will represent my name, and my name alone. I will stand up against mistreatment and pettiness, but I will not sign my name onto anyone's roster. I didn't choose for them to have the problems with each other that they have. I didn't make those choices to talk to them the way they talk to one another. I have hurt them before, yes, but it hasn't been from maliciousness or purposefully trying to make them angry. I am going to be my own person and I will hold myself accountable (which is more than what anyone of you can say because you just sit any justify yourself or you say god keeps you accountable). I am not afraid to be wrong, but mostly because I don't proclaim every fucking thought I have or belief I have as right for the masses. I don't need the approval of temperamental people or a maybe real/maybe not real temperamental god. I'm exhausted at being pushed to the middle. I am not glue. I am not the binding of this book. I didn't ask for any of this, but here we fucking are, and here I am being forced to play a role I never wanted.

No more. I choose me and my mental health. I will choose to play the role I want, and I will shut you down if you try to manipulate me or impose your guilt on me. I am not a brainwashed toddler anymore. I am not an overwhelmed, emotional 12 year old anymore. I am not a self-harming 19 year old anymore. I am not a depressed, questioning 23 year old anymore. I have taken my time getting here, and you will not shake me down. I will not crumble under the weight of your feelings, opinions, and desires. I have been crushed and reformed into a diamond, and now I am beyond your grasp and cannot be broken again by you. I am tired of being afraid to speak up, and I will say what I think when I decide. I will let you down, and you will have to grow the fuck up.

Does This Count As Therapy?

It's started to stay warm consistently now, and with the warmth comes reflection and energy. Let's be honest, I am generally always reflecting all year 'round. I haven't paused to write here for over a month now, and I think I should try to work out some stuff going on in my mind. I have been writing poetry more often, and I am happy about that. There are often things that pop into my mind that I have to just put out, formulate, and create into poetry. (Ary is trying to get me to play fetch with her now, which is unfortunate timing.)

I first want to address how awful my body image and self talk has become. And it isn't constant. It comes in waves, ripples, and sometimes tsunamis. I don't know what it is exactly that makes some of these periods so bad and then go away. I'm paranoid. I don't want to become like some of the people in my family that have bad relationships with food, nor do I want to repeat in my head "don't be like x person" because I could end up pushing myself into a bad place still, by becoming the opposite and not eating enough. I've only ever wanted to find balance, and I know that sometimes things will be wobbly and not exact. But I bully myself when that happens... when the scales tip a little. I'm terrified of getting a big gut, especially since I am already prone to intestinal issues and anxiety builds up so much tension in the gut. I want to enjoy life and enjoy foods I like, but I also want to take care of myself and not punish my body. And then I don't, but I punish my MIND.

When I was younger, my mom would compare me to my siblings whenever I said or did something she didn't like. She'd say "You're being like Jeffrey" or "if you do anything like x sibling, i'll kick you out" and that shit has stuck with me to this day. I've been reading a book my friend B gave me, and it's really revealed bullshit cycles that played in my growing up years. I resent that I was ever compared to my siblings. Since I was a child, I wanted to be my own person and not have anyone crowd into that space, but I wasn't allowed to have that space. I didn't have the space to be open and out about the stuff I dealt with, the things I felt, the experiences I had, the thoughts I had, because I couldn't be openly "rebellious" like all my siblings had been. I could only show I wasn't okay when the hurt made sense to my parents, but when I ached and self harmed, and when I felt heavy and filled with darkness, I had to conceal it. There was no space for that. I hated being told who I was and how to be, but I couldn't show any other colors in our family. That's what I thought. I thought I wouldn't be loved if I showed that I wasn't black or white. I've always been gray, and that may never be okay with my parents. I know Holly resented me for be gray, though she wouldn't really understand what that means without  me explaining it a bit. I wasn't direct, I wasn't HER, I held back, I bit my tongue, I kept so much to myself, and I controlled my image. I was controlled yet emotional, I was withdrawn but personable. I remember being 14 and engaging with new kids to our church because I thought "I'd want me to talk to her if I was her."

I'll only do what I have to do to survive. I will always take care of myself. I've wanted to assert my individualistic personality and my independence since I was 14, but my mom wouldn't let me. I wanted to start taking responsibility for myself, and I wasn't allowed. I wanted a job. Nope. I wanted to get a job so I could pay for my own cellphone. Nope. And then I was given one but with all these strings attached. My texts being monitored, my phone calls being monitored, the numbers I contacted were managed. That was why I wasn't allowed to get a job and pay for my own phone. I wanted to definitely get my own phone plan when I was 19, and I wasn't allowed. And I get it now. My mom wanted to be able to keep tabs on me always. She could go through all my phone records. And she always assumed the worst. She literally accused me of staying out all night with a friend of mine who was away in SC for college, when I told her I was in Greenfield at my friend Rachel's. But she didn't like that story. It didn't fit her poor victim cycle. What horrible children she has. They are such liars. And they wonder why we hid so much from them. They set us up to be disobedient liars. I could never come to them with the truth about anything. I'd vent to my mom about how a bf treated me, and somehow it would be twisted and be my fault. Always. I'm making myself mad right now.

Over dinner with my partner, my mom tried to play this game of "wow i was such a sweet, loving mom because i couldn't let my poor baby be without a pet." Are you fucking kidding me? So you couldn't handle me being sad that my pets were being devastatingly murdered on our front porch by cars. That makes sense? But I never asked for a replacement to Ada. So you provided a way for me to have a pet. Cool. You made me think my sister was going to molest me and left me scared to be close to her for years. So, that's nice.

I need to stop for now. I'm getting myself worked up.

I Could Title This "Fuck You" but That Isn't Classy

I want this entry to have a purpose, and not just a mindless rant. But when it comes to my thoughts, I guess it is never mindless. Something is wrong with me. I'm mourning the loss of things that I haven't put a face to or a title to or a name to. There is the obvious list of people or things, but there is more than that. I don't think I've avoided addressing this; I think I've had so much on my mind that I just haven't gotten to it yet. I'm sitting still now, and ready to confront a few things.

I started reading Rupi Kaur's second poetry book, and something really jumped out to me: how much hurt Craig caused me, and how damaging it was to me. Maybe I'm repeating something I've felt or said before, but I recognize that I had these huge hopes for him and I. I truly thought one day, eventually, we'd be together because I understood him. But when I make myself think back to that last time I saw him, all the little details, and the way he treated me... I know there is pain and un-bandaged wounds. I have reread poems and little things I wrote about our relationship, from YEARS ago, and I don't understand why I ever thought for one moment that he had changed, and that our dynamic could ever be "normal." How did I ever believe him after the years of manipulation and mistreatment that I RECOGNIZED? I must've really had my blinders up. That's why what he did sneaked past me. In his email, he claims things never happened that did, but for years he would tell me to remind him of all the things that happened because his memory was awful. So, how is it that his memory of what he did (or didn't do as he says) could be reliable since it never was before? THAT is how I know I AM NOT CRAZY, and that he is a liar.

Why do we hold on to unrequited love? Why do we seek the approval of those who reject us? Is it because we like the challenge? Do we really think we should have to fight for someone to love us back? Should we have to burn ourselves in order for someone else to see that we exist? Why did I give so much of myself, and didn't demand to be refilled, refueled? I had the right to answers and had the right to demand them. I gave up my rights. I allowed you into my life. Over and over. There was always this underlying plot that we'd come together in the end. That should've never been in place to begin with, but also you destroyed any chance of reconciliation. You never respected me, as you claim in your email. You never treated me with respect. People aren't objects or play things or devices used to fulfill your desires. But yet you still live like those things are true. And I let you do it. When I stopped loving you, I didn't see you as a threat to my well-being anymore. I was mistaken.

I hope you are suffering now.
I hope my words repeat in your head,
and I hope you've driven out everyone from your life.
You deserve to be miserable and alone.
You deserve to have your mind torture you until it explodes.
You ripped into my wounds over and over.
You forced your way behind my walls,
and demanded access to all secrets, to all wounds, to all thoughts.
You asked questions no one had the right to know the answer.
You invaded.
You are immoral and disgusting.
Your soul has rotted.
Your mind is filled with decay.
You destroy instead of build.
Your breath is toxic.
I hope life continues to break you.
I hope your knees give out beneath you,
and I hope everything you've built will crumble.

It's Sporadic

Two weeks ago, I came here to talk about things that were happening. Capricorn season is not my favorite. It caused me great anxiety in different years of my life, but coming into this year didn't make me panic, despite the drama that was going on with my parents. It's not like it's actually over; we're just not going to talk about it for a while. I'm just happy that I'll be rid of the car and one less thing they can hold on me.

Since the first day I remember life, I wanted to put my mom at ease but I also wanted to be my own person. I have early memories of making intellectual choices in how I communicated or how I wanted to be perceived. I always thought about wanting to be just me. Simply me. It isn't that I made myself into something I wasn't. I just didn't share what I wanted to keep for myself. I realized that the only person who would listen to me was my mom/parents, but only if I was perceived as doing the "right thing." I know I always had my own kind of moral code. My gut always knew. I would always somehow know something wasn't right. It'd take me a while to figure out why my stomach would hurt, but now I know it's when I wouldn't listen to my intuition, and also because I have bad anxiety.

It's in the business of an empath and Cancer sun to reflect on the past, and learn from it, and sometimes be all nostalgic. It's mostly to learn. I know I have obsessive thought patterns. I replay so much in my head. I want to be a better person from all of the bullshit and good shit I've experienced. And I also want to be honest with myself, not taint what really happened because of NOW circumstances. Unless time is linear. Whatever that means. I wouldn't be surprised if this reality is actually a simulation. When I die, I wake up.

I just had this thought. We watched Return of the King yesterday. Towards the end of the movie, Frodo & the other hobbits are sitting back at their home pub, drinking beer. And you see this look on Frodo's face. It's as if it says "After all of what I went through, I'm at the same bar I was before all of this." And he couldn't get over that feeling he didn't belong anymore. That his life before that journey was gone for good, even though he could go through the motions of it. He had experienced such darkness, pain, and evil, but came out. And now he's sitting with his dearest friends, but he isn't one of them anymore. I don't know if it truly correlates, but that's how I feel. When I go "home." I've been through way too much to just come back here and act like I'm that person at the beginning. The old Hannah can't come to the phone... "oh, cuz she's dead." I was never meant to belong, just like Frodo wasn't meant to be a regular ole hobbit.

I found a poem just now at the back of my journal that I started in 2007. Added a couple entries in 2008 & 2009. But the poem is from 2013. I think it's about Alex, and when I had to let him go. 

I've got nothing else to say right now.

Raise My Coffee Cup to the New Year I Suppose

Well, fuck. It's been several months, hasn't it?  My computer is so slow due to needing so many updates, and the last time I used it was to post the last blog. Back in July. I don't write as much as I used to because I really fill my free time/alone time with weight training. All my poetic thoughts are still inside of me, but I just gave myself a break this year, I suppose, from really dwelling on things. I think that comes from J's influence and energy, since he doesn't focus on the past like at all. I do want to always be moving forward, but I know that reflecting is part of my identity, and I should do it occasionally still to keep myself in check. I'm the only one that comes back here and reads this, but I haven't done that really this year. That's okay. I'm going through difference phases of life all the time, every year, and I don't need to relive often. I'm the weirdo that just stood up at the coffee shop and stretched and did "steps" so I can get my 9 hours of activity in on my fitbit. That's who I've become now. hahaha. It's important to me. OK.

I'm avoiding what I came here to talk about. I shouldn't avoid my thoughts. I never thought I'd feel this, where I am, and I guess I don't want to admit it "out loud," but the only person I'm hiding this from really is myself. I used to be so afraid that my parents wouldn't love me anymore because of "losing" my faith. But I realized that they never loved me for who I am. I've spent all this time learning and understanding them from afar, trying to find ways to understand and empathize with who they are even though it's so different from me half the time. Yet somehow everything is about them. I can only pinpoint all this really on my mom because my dad is so passive and doesn't speak up to how strongly he feels most of the time, but I know it isn't far off from her. She's just a bit more brash and rude, and he's a bit more passive. And I think I've tried to embrace more how I'm feeling when I'm feeling it, identifying where it's coming from. But with certain things, I just don't want to focus on it, I don't want to go there, and I don't want to process it because I know how much it hurts. I don't suppress it, I just kinda want to leave it on the surface, but I will keep myself in the dark ocean where it's safe and mysterious. That isn't a better method.

I've also been avoiding reading C's emails. Some people are tempted to obsess over people that have hurt them, or that they've hurt, or people who we've grown apart from ... But I just don't. I haven't been even the slightest curious as to what he had to say. I just assumed it's something I've read before. He lives life in a circle, repeating the same mistakes and the same lies over and over. How could he produce something I've never seen? He never has. Besides, I told him I hated him without reading his message, so it wouldn't change that fact. He doesn't know. And that's okay.

How many times have I said here that if someone found this besides the audience that looks over it from time to time already...how screwed would I be? Just imagine, my parents finding this. That would be so so so interesting. But they'd see how I was so terrified, and how I was so sick of all the unnecessary guilt and shame. Not that my words would really reach them. They'd still write it off, like they do now. My existence and experiences aren't valid to them. I can't find my own purpose, my own happiness, my own moral code, and it all has to be because it's their fault. God is still amazing and they were bad messengers. Why does everyone assume it was just Christians that ruined Christianity for me? Sure, some of the people that really broke me down were Christians. I won't put that in parentheses because they WERE Christians. They REALLY were. But this is the problem, that belief system brought me pain and grief and disappointment to the point where I wanted to kill myself. I begged for death. It gave me fake highs and REAL REAL lows. When my emotions went away, so did my beliefs. That's how I knew it wasn't real. There was no God in the silence of my mind. In the stillness, there was me. I got myself through that, I took myself to therapy every other week, and I got myself out of bed without anyone pulling my hand. I pushed myself to search for the truth, and found so many holes. I did the work. I wasn't looking for an out. It would've made my personal life SO MUCH FUCKING EASIER to have been able to still believe. They really think it's as simple as just wanting to do what I want, and to fuck outside of marriage. How fucking ridiculous is that?! It's as if they never knew me. Wait, wait... they didn't. I was always intended to be a carbon copy of them blended together. But I'm not. Do they even know how HARD IT WAS to realize that something I based my whole life on was now senseless and meaningless? I had to rebuild myself. It was far from easy to "walk away."

After what my mom did and said to me, I am never going to be so passive and "kind," She tried to guilt me, but that doesn't work anymore. You have no fucking hold on me and my morals. You taught me how to say mean things to myself and feel sorry for myself. But I taught myself how to STRENGTHEN THE FUCK UP and shut those thoughts down. To stop being so "humbly" pitiful. If you just accepted me for who I am, you wouldn't be so grrrriiieeved. If you just thought to yourself for one second, "Wow, Hannah is a human being. She's been living on her own for over a year now and hasn't asked for money or to come home once. WOW. She's doing a lot better than I expected since I know she always had a hard time saving money. That's good for her. Wow, she's working 6 days a week. That must be rough. I hope she's eating enough and eating well. I am so happy she has John in her life. He seems to really balance her out." But no. You think about the negative all the time. You repeat to yourself that "Hannah is selling herself short. Hannah is immoral. Hannah threw away my beliefs. Hannah is living in sin. Hannah probably spends all her money and is irresponsible. Hannah is gonna get pregnant and have a bastard child."

I don't care what you think anymore. I learned that I can't care about what you think anymore. "I'll never be who you want me to be. I can't be who you want me to be." Megan told me to space myself from them for a while, and I agree. Hell, my bosses told me they didn't speak to their parents for 5-8 years because they wanted to get the point across to them to just FUCKING STOP. That you either accept me for who I am, or you get nothing. I don't know if I am ready for that kind of move because it seems a bit petty. But I did donate the book they gave J and I to where I work. hahaha. And I got books I'd actually read in return.

~ Wow it got cold in the coffee shop randomly...brrrrr~ I always get hungry at the coffee shops I spend a significant amount of time at, so I CAME PREPARED TODAY! I brought raspberries, banana chips, and sea salt dried chickpeas. One of my goals for the new year is to lower my body fat percentage, so I need to snack better. For some reason, my self control has been a bit out of sorts when it comes to food this last year. So I really need to refocus and push myself to be disciplined. And it's not like I'm asking for a lot of restriction, HANNAH. Just like, don't eat a bunch of sweets or two bowls of cereal when YOU JUST ATE a chicken and pasta dinner. OH MY LAWD IT'S COLD IN HERE! One girl here took her coat off and is wearing A TANK TOP. HOW?! This entry has become very random. I'm okay with that. These are how my thoughts work. So, I'm just being very transparent.

Second cup of coffee time. They aren't big mugs. But it's so good to drink GOOD coffee black. I don't remember exactly the last time I sat in here. Maybe months. It feels good to be here. It's no Colectivo, but it's good enough. I remember when I was in school, I'd take a Saturday or Sunday and drive far off to a coffee shop away from campus, and spend hours there. I'd work on homework, write poetry, and write in this blog. That version of me seems so far away. So long ago. My sister has had two kids since then. I'm going to be seeing at least two of my friends from school in January that I haven't seen since I graduated. I'm relieved for that. I have grown and changed so much since then, but I know my core self is still the same. I will still connect with these wonderful women in the same way we bonded back then. Over random activities and adventures, and drinking wine, and doing yoga and working out, or listening to music, talking about astrology and beliefs, or playing music, talking about boys in our lives, and girls that caused drama. They validated my existence when I was struggling with who I was. They encouraged me. I hope when I see them that I can be an encouragement, a delight, and a refreshment. That sounds weird, but I don't know another way to express what I mean. I just want to be a good friend.

Okay. I think I might do it. I might read that email. - - it's been 45 seconds since I decided I was going to read it, and I'm getting anxiety. Maybe I shouldn't. BUT REMEMBER HANNAH. He has no power over you and he won't know you read it and you are in a safe place. You're okay. I've never been more aware of my anxiety until this year since I haven't been depressed ( like felt heavy) in  a long time.

Well, I read both and my whole body is shaking. because anxiety is great. it was a note telling me he still thought of me. that he moved back to his hometown. Wow. It's so interesting to read what he said, and then knowing I didn't read it, see my response. But you know what, I don't care. He realized where I had fit in his life, and it was too late. "As always, I'll respect what you need"... BAHAH WHAT A FUCKING JOKE. He's delusional. Our relationship was so unbalanced and problematic and toxic. And he only ever imposed his thoughts and feelings onto me, and then removed himself as soon as I started to lean on him. So, I'd fall and I'd break my bones. He mentioned missing our conversations but not missing me as an actual person. He misses what I gave him. I don't feel the need to actively hate him, but he really hurt me.

And honestly, I'm glad that J doesn't want to have conversations the way he and I did. Well, it's not that he doesn't want to, he just doesn't think that way, so he doesn't communicate that way. I always knew how much I cared about C, and what I thought we could be and have. But he was so absorbed in his own thoughts. There was a rough lesson I learned in that whole painful process. If someone doesn't know how they feel about me, but I know how I feel about them, then that's it. I walk away. Because I'm not going to stand here, knowing how I feel, while they are uncertain and unsteady. I think that's my Taurus in Venus coming out. And that's what would upset me so much. How can you really see me, SEE ME, loving you so fiercely, and yet be so uncertain? And I realized, no more. Never again. That got through to J. And it's never gotten through to anyone before him. So, that's how I know he loves me as I am. I don't feel insecure anymore, and I don't worry about it when we fight about similar stuff that we broke up over. We have a foundation, and it's going to last for a while.

Well, I guess I've released a bit of what has been sitting there on the surface. Almost done with that second cup of coffee, but I don't think I'll get a third. That would be a bit much. I can't believe it took me four months to actually read that email. I used to jump on what he'd send me, but not anymore. And he said he was done trying to contact me. OH you are NOW? I thought my ignoring you was obvious enough for you to stop?? If he had just given me space like I had asked for, this could've been handled much differently, but he's never respected my needs. And every single time I got a voicemail and then an email... It made my anger grow so deeply. It took root, and became grounded into my stomach. He should've left me alone. I can't blame myself for how I reacted. Just because I read it now, I shouldn't judge myself or be hard on myself. He needed to know that his thoughtless actions have consequences, that his selfishness will cost him.

He isn't the only person that lost me as a friend this year. Well, technically he lost me last year, but it's "more official" now. Ha. How can someone say they KNOW they didn't do something when they also say they don't remember everything? Hmmm. That makes all the sense in the world. No more being friends with people that give me anxiety, that I have to serve to constantly, who I have to be who they want me to be, who make me feel like I have to be silent, who make me feel overwhelmed, who never let me talk, who play mind games, who treat me like a product... I'm not going to join in on the toxicity anymore. If you burn me, I WILL DROP YOU. If I can't be my real self around you, I won't go out of my way to be around you at all. I don't care who you are.

Alright bye for now. 

these are Delicate Matters

Some parts of my life are a blur. The times I felt too much or didn't want to feel at all are like very distant dreams, and I can only see them through thick, colorful glasses. I wasn't a "normal" child. While reading the Empath Experience my friend B gave me, I recognize that I never mimicked others so tremendously that I didn't know who I was. I've always had depth, I've always connected better with older people, or really just older souls, and I always had an interest in spirituality, deep emotions expressiveness, creativity, writing, and nature. The more I learn about my Empathy, and also take into account my natal chart, I was shaped to be exactly who I am so spectacularly. I am a moon child, a Cancer sun sign, with the moon as my planet, and I was born on a Monday. I see the moon and feel peace, and I don't dread Mondays (more like Tuesdays....) I also am a Libra moon, and Libra's generally seek peace, balance and harmony. They weigh out the options, and take their time to assess situations, and choose what will create the greatest good (or try to) and finding the truth is very important to them. Libra represents weights/balances/scales. Creating calm in my life, finding calm, and identifying what gives me anxiety and seeking to relieve it has been a driving factor in my choices. What's interesting is, as a Libra moon, that makes sense. As a Virgo rising, the anxiety I deal with makes sense. And then add in being an Empath, it's just a perfect recipe tied up with a bow. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but I was born at the precise time I was supposed to be born in order to deal with being who I am.

While I'm reading some of the first chapter of the book my friend gave me, I'm a little nervous to really dive into my abilities. Just reading these introductory paragraphs leave me in tears. I'm not losing my shit, but just tearing up. Like wow. It's so good to know I am not alone in my experiences, my intense experiences. But also, what does it mean to really empower myself with this skill? I think I developed depression as a coping mechanism for feeling too much, because when really traumatic things happened, I just couldn't handle it. I think I sensed my dad's depression, what he told me he experienced when we first moved to Indiana, and I adapted to it? It's just a theory. I remember writing a poem about being raped, my mom finding it, and freaking out. I was trying to process what happened to my sister, and I only heard bits and pieces of the story, but I knew she had been abused to some degree. Yes, I was only 9 yrs old when all these things were revealed, but I understood. I saw my dad weep, and I knew it was something so devastating that my father, while an emotional being, wouldn't hide weeping from us anymore. I don't remember my dad every showing us him tear up, even though I know he would cry when he prayed intensely. Well, at least I know that in later years, when we moved to Indiana. I don't know if he actually did that when we lived in PA, before what happened. The only lie my mom every inadvertently told me was to view moving to Indiana like a vacation. She knew it would be hell, but she wanted to keep a brave face, and not seem so defeated as she was. But I knew she was devastated, and I knew she was resentful toward the universe that she was losing the first place she really called home. Maybe that's why I was so hateful towards Indiana, and Hoosier things for so long, My parents never wanted to be here either, and I could sense that in all of us. I just didn't know I was picking up the others' vibes and emotions.

It makes sense that I eventually have come to hate certain people that I do hate. The energy they give off is so revealing to me of who they really are. I hate them for being soul sucking leeches, and no one else seeming to pick up on it. They overwhelm me, and being with them for more than a day just bogs me down, and I have actually cried from it before. When I was surrounded by certain people a few years ago for 4 days straight with no down time, I started crying while we all sat in the living room. I hid it because how could I explain, Hey I'm so overwhelmed by your high energy and life sucking personalities that I am actually in tears..? I am grateful that I have had a job where people have been awful to me and I learned to really toughen up and speak up sooner, and not be afraid to be anxiety ridden but speak my truth anyway. I've learned that a lot this last year. Yes, I hate how I've been treated at my job, but I also have grown that this experience was necessary, too. That is the good thing about myself; I try to find purpose and meaning and lessons in all of my experiences. I learned how to really sift through my memories and experiences in a beneficial way because of my counselor at school. She taught me to look at the key phrases I use that stand out, and to dig deeper but also to give myself space and grace to heal.

Being an Empath sometimes means understanding so much about the people around me before they know if for themselves. I have learned to just fully trust my intuition and not to be so anxious about others responses. It's not that I HAVE TO BE RIGHT. It's that the energy I pick up is never wrong. It isn't me... The people I experience omit enough energy off themselves, that it is what I am really seeing and talking about, and it isn't my own opinions most of the time. It is was I see and experience, and it's outside of me. I have learned more that while things are personal in how people/ "friends" treat me or react, most people are selfish and too focused on self preservation to really care about how something effects others until they are confronted about it. Our initial reaction is to double down and defend ourselves. I only defend myself when I know 100% something isn't true. I want someone to dislike me for what is true about me that they don't like, not for a lie or a misconception they created to make themselves feel better. I also realized that I want to be a specific type of person with all people, and I won't be close to people who make me feel like I can't be that person. I did cut off a "best friend" recently because I realized I was just not myself with her, and she wasn't the type of friend I wanted anymore. Being friends with her had been a negative experience for a long time, but I tried to justify it because I knew deep down she cared about me, but it was always on her terms, and never how I needed to be cared for. It was selfish. I'm not here to say I am so much better, but I am blessed that my Empathy has forced me to pay attention to how the people I'm closest to need love. I don't get to choose how B or J or N needs to be loved. Their energy shows me what they need, and I have to comply, otherwise I'm failing my duty as an Empath. I have this ability for a reason. I need to take care to listen to my intuition and senses.

All these thoughts I'm working through and typing out reminded me of something B recently said to me. "You are one of the most selfless people I know..." I used to take things a lot more personally than I do now. I really have seen that most people are too caught up in their own schemes to really notice what they've done, and how it hurts someone else... the ripple effect. I don't excuse the behavior, but I understand it. There is more to this treatment than just being mean or hurtful to me, or neglectful or whatever. And I think once I somehow realized that we all do what we think makes sense outside of the consequences that can occur, that helped me really remove myself from others choices and understand them better. The hurt and pain is still there, but now I know why. So, I stopped needing to ask why someone did something, because I learned sometimes there really isn't a clear answer in their own hearts, and I would probably be better off not knowing, or just reading the vibes and leaving it alone. But I made ground rules for myself in my intimate relationships. And I won't stay close to anyone who won't comply. You might think that's selfish, but it isn't because I want equal, empowering, honest friendships that are deep, helpful, nurturing, seeking balance together, and being empathetic (in the general sense and not to my depth/degree). What I want for myself is something that others should have too! We should learn how to care for each other how we need, and not just how we want to do something. I won't be with someone who wants codependency, or flattery, or wants me to bend to their will. That takes away the realness.

I also know that at a certain point, past experiences or memories cannot be brought up again to use against someone if I decided to not address them. If I chose that it was best to let go of something, it needs to be let go of. If I hadn't figured out what to do yet, and it spans over a period of years, that's different for me. This isn't about justifying grudges. I seek resolvement, but sometimes it is very hard to find resolvement when the issue is a consistent wave, crashing down every year but never giving me enough time to work through what I feel. When I say "what I feel," that includes much more than just my emotional reactions.

I may add more to my thoughts here later, but I need to pause for now.