Tag Archives: anger

The Mask 

You attempt to cover your face, yet I see you for who you really are. 

You were once concealed by your lies, but now you are transparent. 

You told me what I wanted to hear. You were a shoulder to cry on. You were the friend I needed when I was in my most vulnerable state.

Everyone wears a mask. Our masks are often embroidered with what we prefer others to see about ourselves. Underneath the mask, however, lies our darkest secrets, our insecurities, our agonizing thoughts and emotions, our past mistakes and guilt. If we develop trust with others, then we lift our mask for them. 

Some people, however, would rather keep their true identities hidden.

For nearly a year, you wore your mask in front of me under the guise that you were unveiling your true self to me, and I was naive to believe that your masked self was your reality. 

Until one lie led to another, and soon your lies were too hard to keep up with. With all the deception, all the times you did not let me breathe or live my life, all the times you spoke of me differently with my back turned than you did to my face, and all of the times you had bad intentions behind the few things you did for me, you slowly removed your mask until you exposed who you truly were. 

I am empathetic and forgiving, but with your deception, sense of entitlement and ulterior motives with me being unveiled, I could no longer tolerate your poor treatment toward me that I had blinded myself to for so long because I had fallen under the spell of your mask. 

And after your betrayal and all the crap you put me through, you have the nerve to come to me covering your face in hopes to regain what we once had. But it is too late, you lifted your mask and now there is no going back no matter how much you try to shield me from who you are. The damage has been done. 

Advertisements

Empathy

Empathy is defined as “the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.”

Were you able to understand how I felt when I opened my heart to you? Or were you too busy shredding me of every bit of dignity I had left?

You did care about me, but only until you weren’t allowed to. You did love me, until the whispers in your ear commanded you not to.

I could feel the pain in your eyes when you left me, but in the end you chose your reputation over me.

If I only I could see through those deep brown eyes of yours who you really are. On the surface, you are a laid-back gentleman with a big heart that everyone gets along with. Underneath that guise, however you are much more in terms with your inner demons than you are willing to accept.

When you commit yourself to someone, you also commit yourself to their mind, heart and soul. When I committed myself to you, I felt a connection to every part of you. Even when I discovered that dark side of you that you will not uncover to maintain that image that you have, I loved you. I could feel that, beneath that layer, there was goodness buried within.

For that reason, I tolerated that side of you that would belittle my feelings and scream and curse at me in public until you made me cry. People would ask why I stay and call you verbally abusive, and I would always defend you whether you were present or absent. I would have liked to imagine it was the same for me. No matter what, I always saw you through rose-colored glasses, and maybe that good self you showed me during the year and a half we were together was a part of the real you.

Regardless, it does not negate the fact that you did not feel the same empathy I had for you during and after our relationship. You had broken many promises the day you left, and you continued to do so afterward. Everything I confided you with that you swore you would take the grave is now out in the open in spite of the fact that I still keep all of your secrets to myself for your sake, you have made it painstakingly obvious that you do express the same concern for how I am doing while I often wonder about your well-being despite everything that has happened between us, and you decided to give me a final stab to the back by saying that I exaggerate my trauma and use it to get attention. You know what the fuck I went through and how it still has an effect on me, yet you still turned it into a joke on social media with your friends.

After all of that, I repressed the pain I felt from your betrayal and cruel words because I felt it was deserved, even if I had given you empathy that you did not reciprocate in the end.

I was not perfect, but I did everything I could to withhold many things I wanted to say to you and protected you from the cruel words of others for your benefit. When you are blessed with empathy toward one’s feelings, you are also cursed with remaining blind to their poor treatment toward you because of all the excuses you have made for them.

I held these feelings in for too long to refrain from hurting your feelings even if you did not spare me the same pain, but in doing so I have kept myself from understanding my own feelings. As I continue to grant you empathy, I deny myself any. So I will continue to write about you until my fingertips tire of doing so.

How do you live in the present when your mind is still in the past?

Bad Day

Saturday I woke up with a smile on my face.

I got dressed up, put on my eyeshadow and lipstick, took pictures, put them on my Instagram, posted a prose on my Facebook page about finding the light when facing months of darkness, and headed off to work. My plan was that after work, I would attend a writing group I was in and then go to a party afterward. I had psyched myself up for that day considering how the weather and having a bad cold kept me indoors most of last week, isolated away with nothing but my anxiety and bad thoughts circulating in my head.

Perhaps my first indication that the day was not going to go well was that my insomnia decided that I only deserved a half hour of sleep.

The day started off as planned, in spite of sleepiness fighting it’s way to consume me. I fought it off with two cups of coffee, and made my way to work and to the writing meetup.

The thing about bad days is that you don’t know when they will happen. Expectation leads to failure, that is something my ex-boyfriend always used to say and I came to learn that he was right (as much as I hate to admit it) the hard way. This day took a turn for the worse so quickly that I am still trying to process it.

I have had bad days in the past. I have also had time periods in my life where every day seemed like a bad day. Though it seemed impossible to do so at times, I would find myself mustering the strength to power through it all.

These past few months have been an example of a time in my life where I experience a plethora of bad days at once. There are a batch of good days thrown in here and there, but they are always followed up by those bad day(s) where I am faced with an overwhelming amount of bad news and/or experiences where I often wonder when there will be an end to the madness, and if I will even be able to survive long enough to reach that point without just giving up.

Still, I have lived twenty-two years, two months and eight days of my life so far. That is approximately 8,098 days. I am horrible with math, but out of those 8,098 days, the reality is that the amount of bad days I have had can barely even measure up to a quarter of my life. There are also the good days, the semi-good days, the semi-bad days, the neutral days, the so-so days, the pseudo-bad days (as in those days during my adolescent years where it felt like my life was over because I lacked the maturity to realize that what I was going through would not be significant ten years later), the lazy days, the boring days, and the days that made up the first few years of my life where I was too young to comprehend the concept of time.

Even with the bad days I have had and the periods of my life where I was faced with weeks to months of bad days at a time, the reality is that even if life has a habit of hitting us with what seems like an infinite amount of bad days, there is so much to look forward to. You could even find good buried within the crap that life throws at you if you stop looking at the empty half of the glass.

This is not to suggest that you are not allowed to cry, to scream, to vent or to lock yourself away from everyone and everything for a while. You must feel your emotions before you can reach the point of acceptance. Saturday was not my first bad day, and it won’t be my last either. No matter how much better I feel compared to that day, and how insignificant the things that were bothering me that day have become, there is always a promise of more bad days. As someone who suffers from depression, dealing with bad days along with the promise of more bad days to come has overwhelmed me.

I guess what I am trying to say is, bad days are always going to happen. You may wake up on the wrong side of the bed, you may come across news that ruins your day, you may face experiences that affect your life for months or years to come, or you may have a day where everyone and everything triggers you into a fit of rage. The most important thing is that you feel and release the emotions that the bad day brings to you through writing, tears, excersise, drawing, whatever soothes you. It is also important to keep in mind that no matter how difficult life gets, there is always a promise of better days ahead. You may not be in control of everything that happens to you and of the people around you, but you are in control of your emotions and how you choose to handle things and perceive life.


Announcements:

Usually I don’t do this, but I had three announcements I wanted to make.

1. For the next week, I will be releasing a blog or two each day. These are blogs I have written but never posted, ideas I had but never posted, or posts I have started but never finished. It’s not a series in a sense where they all relate to each other, I just wanted to start getting more of my writing out there since I have a lot of free time this month and I am starting to write more again after dealing with a block for a few months. I will say though, that while I did not really go into detail about the bad day here, you can the events of it mentioned in some of my blog posts I will be posting throughout the week.

2. I still have not forgotten about the book I have been writing, About Last Night. I am still working on getting the preview done as there are still edits to be made, but I expect the preview to be out this month. Once I have finished and put my preview on Amazon, I will post it to my blog and my Facebook page, Lisa Speaks Out.

You can read the description for About Last Night here:

https://lisaspeaksout.wordpress.com/2017/09/07/about-last-night-release-date/

3. Finally, I do tend to be very open in my writing about issues some have deemed as “too personal”, the reason being that one of the purposes of my blog and my writing is to release these thoughts and emotions I have held in or been silenced from sharing all my life. As a writer, I understand that I will receive negative feedback here and there, it happens to even the greatest and most professional of writers. Anyone who wants to put their creativity out there has to deal with not-so constructive criticism from people who will leave reviews and comments that are cruel. Part of being so passionate about what you do is accepting that risk and developing thick skin. I am building up a tolerance against people like that for when I begin to start publishing my work as well as when I start putting my blog out there more. I always welcome constructive criticism and feedback, and usually that is what I get on my writing. However, I have been receiving comments from someone who has been leaving me paragraphs in response to my most recent blogs about the break-up I went through in November, “In The End” and “The One That Got Away” on both my blog page and my Facebook page. I have deleted the comments, but the comments went beyond criticism. I will not discuss the content of the comments, but they could easily be classified as harassment. The comments were lengthy ramblings by someone who was convinced that my blog posts were about them and insulting me. I am unsure if they were written by the person the blog was about or by someone who does not understand that someone can write about situations similar to what they have been through but not be talking about them. I know that there will always be critics out there and I cannot stop them from expressing themselves, but I do not tolerate harassment especially in a place that is supposed to be a safe space for me. I did not insult anyone in those two blogs, just expressed my emotions about the situation to help me release repressed emotions and explored my genuine thoughts about my ex and what had happened so I can continue the moving on process. As I said, just as he can speak about me, I have every right to do the same. Whether or not this was him, or someone I do not know, I will not point fingers but I will say that in spite of what happened I refuse to stop writing and stop putting my writing out there. I may need to disable comments for a while. I have also considered starting a new blog and removing my Facebook page for a while. Again, I welcome constructive criticism and it deeply disappoints me that I need may need to alter what I have been working on for three years if this keeps up. I just do not welcome any kind of harassment throughout my page and my blog. For the time being, however, I will continue to post my blogs on here and keep up with my Facebook page, Lisa Speaks Out. I thank those who have been follow my blog and page, and for those who continue to show support in any way possible whether it be through reading, liking and/or commenting. Your support is much appreciated.

In The End

How do you say goodbye to last year when a part of you still is holding onto the remains of what once was but no longer is?

How do you let go of yesterday when its memories are still imprinted in the back of your brain today?

Last week I had a dream where I saw you for the first time in two months. In my dream, you said the words I was dying to hear you say for weeks, “I am sorry, I want you back.” I was filled with pure ecstasy, until you disappeared. I did a double take, and yet the chair before me that you were just in moments ago was empty. I looked around, and it turned out that for my whole dream, I had been talking to myself. You were never there, but rather a figment of my imagination.

I promised to myself that I would never take you back after the pain you bestowed onto me. The pain you brought upon me the day that you chose to leave, lest we forget it was a few hours before my birthday party.

I was no saint to you, I admit that. I made my mistakes, I admit that. In fact, I wasted a month blaming me and only me. I only recalled how comforting your touch and kisses felt, how welcome I felt laying next to you every night, and how you were more caring and loving to me than anyone I have ever been with. I protected you from the cruel words of others before and after our break up. I believed you did the same for me.

Perhaps I had been asking for too much, or perhaps I was still looking at you through rose-colored glasses I looked at you. However, those glasses were shattered by your thorns.

They say that love makes you blind, well I guess I was blinded by how spiteful and deceitful you really are.

I had once betrayed your trust, and I was once a deceitful person myself. However, I changed all that for you because I believed you were worth it. I let go of my toxic habits so I could be the best person I could be for you. I could not erase my past mistakes, so instead I focused on fixing the present.

I had a past of being emotionally abused by other guys and suffer from serious abandonment issues, so letting you in and putting my trust in you was difficult. With each kiss, each moment of intimacy, each time you left a smile on my face, each time your touch would heal my internal wounds, each moment you protected me in your arms, and each time you made me feel special in a way that most people could not, you managed to find your way into my heart.

Before I knew it, I was so deep in love there was no way back up.

Once I was in too deep, I had became positive that you were the one. I was so positive, that I began to envision spending my life with you. I would dedicate all my time to you, go out my way to spoil you for your birthday and our anniversary, spend all my money on you, talk you up to everyone in my life, and do just about anything you asked of me. All I had ever expected in return was your smile. My god, your smile had truly warmed my heart and was the greatest reward of all.

What I had also gotten in return, was being exposed to that dark side that you have but won’t admit to. If you do, you will just say that I provoked it. That side of you that you kept buried within until the last few months of our relationship, had me feeling like I was walking around on eggshells because any little thing triggered it, would come out until you had successfully pushed me to tears, and got worse and worse as time passed. That side of you that would yell and scream at me in public, in front of my family and neighbors and even in front of your family. You would admit that you were wrong in doing so, yet your apologies were as empty as your promises to me because you still did it and decided that it was me that was making you so fed up, not the fact that you had serious underlying issues that you did not want to face.

You made sure to not show this side to your friends, so I can’t fully blame them for seeing you as a saint while deeming me as the issue. Some of your friends I was able to get along with, but many of them had decided that I was not good enough for their liking over the littlest of things, such as, “oh she doesn’t talk enough” or “oh she’s too emotional.” Did you ever notice how I never picked on them or talked down to them to their face as they did to me but instead tried to seek their approval because I knew how important it was to you for your friends and your girlfriend to get along, or were you paying attention at all when you stared at a wall pretending not to hear as they would disrespect me to my face? Did you ever really confront them about how they wasted their energy talking about me publicly on Facebook calling me toxic and saying I run away from the truth just because I blocked them because I was done with them poking their nose in and saying I scare people away while I was still grieving over the loss of our relationship? No, you did not. I wasted all my breaths defending you and telling everyone all the mistakes I made, hell I even made a blog the day after we broke up called “Broken” where I blamed myself for everything falling apart. I had implanted in my head that you were perfect and that I deserved what I did for betraying you in the past and because I had provoked your anger. Never mind that I had changed from my toxic behavior while you had not, that I had betrayed your trust once and never did it again out of fear of hurting you while you did not genuinely care to change your behavior despite seeing how it was affecting me, and that I did not yell or curse at you or insult you really but rather cried when you yelled at me and you still carried on. I let you make me feel small because I believed I deserved it for what I had done, because if I was angering someone like you then something had been wrong with me, and because I believed you were the best I was ever going to find.

I hoped I could change you. Silly Lisa, did you not learn in the past that you cannot change someone that is not willing to change. When it came to you, I just believed you were not changing because I was not enough for you. When our arguments became explosive and I finally screamed back at you just a few days before we broke up, I spent that night being terrified you would leave me because I yelled at you. You, however, had been screaming at me for months, taunting me with those words, “well why are you still here?” and telling me to leave in a condescending tone because you knew I would not, and had been doing little to defend me against your friends who found any reason not to like me and mock me to a point where I could hear them do it in the background on the phone one time. They did not know me, however, and you did, so you had the power to put a stop to it. You did not, since you let your friends make your decisions and you always put them first. Ever notice how when your friends insulted me, you did nothing, but when I pointed out your tendency to prioritize your friends over everyone else you would explode at me and back them up. One time, you even resorted to yelling “shut the fuck up” at me when I had been calmly explaining to you your tendency to put your friends first. I also recall them going off on you a number of times over nothing as they did to me, but you did not do anything more than constantly apologize to them.

They never have been exposed to how disgusting your behavior and attitude gets when you are angry, and maybe that is why you respect them so much. When I would say they judged me without trying to get to know me, you would retaliate that I did not know them well either. They clearly don’t know you well either, and you like it that way. You would rather keep up your reputation with them so they can stroke your ego and attack your “bratty” girlfriend or anyone that calls you out on your bullshit. So who is really the one that runs away from the truth?

I cannot deny that you did do a lot for me and change me for the better, I will always love you deep down and I will always hold onto the good memories of you and I, and I know that deep down the break up had cut a knife through your heart as well, but I refuse to allow myself to take the blame or keep quiet to protect you any longer. I always made excuses for your anger, for your immaturity, and for your lack of respect. I always claimed it was because of what you deal with in your personal life, because of my past mistakes, and because some of your friends manipulate you. Only after our breakup did I not only begin to open my eyes to how poorly you treated me at the end of the day, but also I was exposed to a side of you that you kept hidden from me.

I was defending someone who used my past he claimed to not judge me for against me by deciding that I had to be making up texts of one of his friends calling me names such as “slut”, “autistic”, and “white cunt” as opposed to accepting that one of his beloved friends were probably harassing me. I had screenshots and it was so bad that I had to change my number, but you did not care. Why did that surprise me though? I mean, you did dump me just before my birthday party while I had been planning yours five months ahead. You also took no time and hesitation to block me everywhere less than a week after we broke up. You seemed to have no issue cutting off contact with someone who had gotten close with, loved, and trusted you. You spent a year and a half of your life with me, yet it took you less than half a week to burn bridges. I would love to say it was difficult for you, except that was the last I ever heard from you. I had been trying to make sure you were okay, and you just cut me off then went on about your life without a wonder about me.

I also would have loved to believe that it had been for my own sake as you had sworn, but that too is hard to believe when you had made me a joke to your friends and publicly put on a Facebook post of yours how I am such an attention-seeker and how I exaggerate the impact of the trauma I have been through. For someone who is so hung up on his friends, you sure don’t keep tabs on the fact that one had told me what the fuck you were saying about me. I guess even with all the yelling and screaming you did to me, you still cowered away from telling me certain things you really felt about me by waiting until you blocked me to say all that.

You know all the shit I go through, and you know how guilty I feel about my past and how hard it was for me to come out with it, yet you still humiliate me by making me a joke and calling me a name on your Facebook when people know exactly who you are referring to. I may be putting this out there, but at least most people who read this won’t know who you are.

It’s still quite pathetic how I actually fear what you’ll think and whether or not this blog will hurt your feelings if you ever happen to stumble upon it. Still, I write this simply to start coming into terms with my own emotions, because I have been putting your feelings before my own for too long. Because the immense amount of pain I have felt should not be released just in the form of tears onto my pillow due to both me grieving the relationship and your cruel words, and because I refuse to be denied my right to express myself any longer.

You did love and care about me, at least in one point in time, but it does not negate all the hurt and the heartbreak you’ve cause me.

I had my flaws in the relationship, but it does not negate how I had loved you with every ounce of my being and did my best to ensure that I supported you and kept you happy. In your eyes, however, it was not enough to keep from dumping me at the worst time, calling me names afterward, and from lashing out at me in the worst way possible.

Last summer, I remember I took you to an event at a karaoke bar the support group I am in was having. We sang “In the End” by Linkin Park to close out the night before leaving. Whenever I hear that song now, I can’t help but find it a terrible coincidence how many of the lyrics, especially the chorus, “I tried so hard and got so far, but in the end, it doesn’t even matter” wound up being so fitting.

 

The One That Got Away

Nothing this week went as expected. 

 It was supposed to be a week of parties and celebration. Yet somehow, everything went south so quickly. 

Being really sick, Arguments, a terrorist attack happening right near my job, and broken promises. 

My 22nd birthday was on Wednesday. I had planned to be taken out by my boyfriend and yesterday have a party. Wednesday itself was not a bad day. I went to work, then went out with my boyfriend. Except something blew out and now he is not my boyfriend anymore. 

I have experienced plenty of breakups and fallouts in my lifetime because I didn’t just lose a boyfriend, I lost a best friend too. Someone who knew more about me more than anyone else. Someone who I knew every side of. Or at least I thought I did, I didn’t expect that he would dump me on the day of my birthday party, just two days after my birthday and on one of the worst weeks I have had in a long time. 

I keep blaming myself. I keep thinking of what I could have done different so that he’d still be mine. I feel like I could have been a better girlfriend and that I overreacted too often to many things. I keep blaming myself for everything going wrong, simply because that’s what happens when you get left behind. 

Except I did change a lot for him. I did do everything I could for him. As cliche as it sounds, everything I did in the past year I did it for him. Everything I became and everything I did was all for him. 

And now he’s gone. 

Everyone always leaves me. I’ve lost most friends in 2017 than I can count on both hands, yet losing him stung the hardest because he was everything to me. I loved him harder than I had loved anyone else, and he taught me what being in love was really about. I still love him deeply. That’s why I can’t even trash talk him, because I care too much to do such. In just a year and four months we developed into a couple that overcame so much together. Things were far from perfect the past month, but I genuinely believed we could work through it. I knew things weren’t easy for him, so I kept doing my best to bear with him and stay by his side, knowing that he needed someone there. Even when we argued the other day, I stood by believing that he and I would get through it because that was us. We were always there for each other and always made it through the worst of times. I had considered leaving before, but put it aside because in my eyes he was always worth it. 

I’m still in love with him, and I still keep blaming myself. Even with my friends kind words when I went to my birthday party last night, which he dumped me before and I spent the whole night breaking into tears wishing he was there. It was supposed to be my night where everything finally came together

People may think I’m ridiculous for posting this, but I still am trying to figure out what happened and why it had to happen this way. I still keep trying to figure out how just a week ago he was at an Open Mic supporting me and now a week later he’s gone. I’m still mourning the loss of someone who meant more to me than any person I been with, someone who was there for me during my Worst, who supported me when I was hospitalized earlier this year, who would make his way to meet up with me the nights I get out of work late, who influenced me to change all my bad habits, who spent his last dollars on me and who saved up just to take me out just the other day, who would spend every weekend with me and take me to every party, who would hold me in the midst of breakdowns and talk me up whenever I put myself down, and who never judged me, who just two weeks ago promised he’d never leave me. 

He’s gone. He’s gone and even if he said it was goodbye I’m still doing my best to face the reality of it. Some would say he’s just a guy and not worth it, but he’s meant so much more to me. Dammit, he still does. 

But he’s gone. He’s gone and with every tear I shed and every pain in my chest I wish he was here, like he always was, to hold me and comfort me. 

I believed he was the one, but he’s the one that got away…

Inktober Day 10: Ode to my First Love, The Snake

So I posted “Poison Apple” last week and said that it had a part two, well this is the part two. It’s the aftermath of my “Poison” drawing. If you haven’t seen it check it out. It’s my Day 3 submission 

“Ode to my First Love: The Snake”
“After she took the bite, what ensued was months of manipulation and deceit. He had blessed her with words no man had spoken to her in years. Words that, at the time, she wanted to here. Still, words were meaningless without action, and despite her spreading her legs for him every week, he did not seem to keep up with his promise. In fact, the more she had given her body to him, the more he drifted away from her. The more he presented her with the feeling of closeness that intimacy brings, the more she fell for him against her own wishes. She attempted to stop herself, but she lost that internal battle. She sucummbed to the effect of the poison he had filled her with that summer before and fell hard. He was not there, however, to catch her. Instead he began to limit their hangouts to only messing around and saying that he had feelings for her but she did not have what he was looking for. Still, she clung onto him, he did have a piece of her no one else would ever have after all. He knew that, in fact, he knew that she was head over heels for him. He also knew that she was nothing more than a fuck he could keep around until he got bored, so he decided to string her along for his needs. He wrapped his slithering body around her and continued to fill her with his venom to keep her attached so he wouldn’t lose his little play toy. When her demands for commitment he promised to her became to overwhelming, he decided she wasn’t worth it. He left her to give someone else the one thing he promised but never gave her, a relationship. At that time she realized not only had she been played, but that she did love him but his “feelings” were never there for her. Her first love never loved her back, and the poison he filled her with killed her internally.”

Sorry for the flood of art on WordPress, I’ve just become so obsessed with art and am improving so I want to share it as much as possible. For those interested in more of my art, follow lisawolfs_artgram for more. 

I still haven’t forgotten about my book, About Last Night. The preview will be up soon 🙂 

Inktober Day 10: Not a Compliment 

I really need a scanner 😦

This is one I was looking forward to for a while, mainly because I had never drawn animals before. Also because I wanted to give a message.


 

Day 10-1: The Cat (Female) from Anthromorphic People prompt

“Not a Compliment”: “I was ten years old when a guy first looked at me sexually. I was eleven when a guy on the internet who stalked an older friend of mine preyed on me because I was “cute”. I was fourteen when a Senior pulled me onto his lap at a high school dance. I was also fourteen when a guy stalked me home for the first time no matter how much I ignored him. I was sixteen when an guy grabbed my ass at a party and attempted to take advantage of the fact that I was drunk, and that same night the ‘friend’ I came with just laughed at this and left me to fend for myself. At seventeen I was called ugly and a bitch by guys online just because I wouldn’t send nudes. I was eighteen when a Professor that I trusted had become too friendly with me. I was also eighteen when a “boyfriend” I had at the time blamed a few guys making lewd comments toward me on the fact that I was wearing shorts. I was nineteen when someone another student in my college at the time had stalked me through Facebook and my classes and I was told that it wasn’t stalking if he wasn’t directly behind me. I was twenty when I was catcalled in the hallways at work and when I reported it, another girl who overheard said he only did it because “I’m pretty.” Earlier this year, I was harassed by a “friend” from high school and a guy on the train followed me and threatened to beat me up if I kept ignoring him and pulled out a pair of dirty panties from his bag. I am twenty-one going on twenty-two and I still face these harassments on the street, the “hey sexy”s and the lewd comments about me as if I am a piece of meat. It is not a boost to my self-esteem, and it is not a compliment. I am a human, not a cat, so don’t make kissy noises at me.”

For more, follow my art instagram, lisawolfs_artgram 🙂 

About Last Night preview coming Soon! 

Regrets

Regrets.

We all have them. No matter how much you preach, “every mistake is a learning experience,” you have to admit that at least once in your life, you have done something that would make you want to jump in a time machine and stop yourself from doing if you could.

What is that regret for you?

When people look at me, they see mystery. They see a reserved girl who keeps her circle small and, while socializing with a few people every day, she rarely lets anyone in. It might make one wonder if she has any skeletons in her closet worth exposing. Some may say yes. Others may say, “no she is too sweet for that.”

Indeed, I may have a good heart that is filled with empathy and understanding for everyone good and bad, but I would be lying if I said I have never made any mistakes harmful to anyone else.

Words I want to take back that I never can. Lies that even I believed at one point. Friends I had lost due to these lies. Actions so vile I cannot even speak of them. All over someone who has no relevance in my life anymore, but did have a huge presence in it years ago. All for someone who was not worth my time and sanity. All for someone who did not care for me, but I had so desperately wanted him to that I cost myself some of the people who actually did.

All for sympathy.

Earlier in 2017, I reached an epiphany. I did not want to be that person anymore. He has been long gone out my life, I am in a much better place than I had been the past few years, I have better friends and a boyfriend, a job I love doing, and I have the ability to express myself creatively. Why did I spend my time running away from myself by creating this life for me that did not exist in the face of my close ones? No more lies, I decided.

“The truth will set you free.” This saying could not be more relevant as I finally opened up about my past. All the lies, guilt, and cruel words came pouring out my mouth to anyone affected by my actions. As I did so, the weight I carried around the past few years finally lifted off my shoulders and was carried away into the wind as I watched it drift away from me forever.

I could say that this brought me peace, and while I left that negative lifestyle behind and some had found it in their heart to forgive me, some had not.

Including myself.

The things I did were harmful and wrong, yes, and while I am not trying to justify it, there was worse things that people have done to harm others. That is what people who know of my past had said. Not to mention that I am only twenty-one and still am just at the beginning of my adulthood. Still, betrayal from a best friend is one of the worst kind, and cruel words have such an impact on someone similar to being sliced by a thousand knives, and while I had not physically harmed anyone or took anyone’s life, I still had caused people emotion pain and took advantage of their trust, and that is something I can never take back.

I have changed. I am more appreciative of those around me, I am mindful of the words I say to others, and I am much more truthful with everyone. What I had done is far in the past now and I have become someone that the dark side of me I had for years would never recognize.

Still, the guilt often sits in the back of my mind and rears its ugly head in every day. My past still haunts me to a point where it sometimes becomes a struggle to come to terms with the fact that I am not perfect, that I have done regretful things to others, and that my past does not make me a horrible person or make me any less of the good person I am within.

 

via Daily Prompt: Sympathy

My Lessons Learned: Part 1

INTRO

They say that getting hurt is an essential part of life and to live life with no regrets. They also say that it is always darkest before the dawn. Throughout the twenty-one years of my life I have lived so far, I have learned this to be true the hard way.

PART 1

It all started with that boy with the hazel eyes and the blonde patch of hair in his Mohawk. He was my “high school sweetheart,” my first boyfriend, and the first guy that taught me what happiness was. He stole my first kiss on the two train during the Spring of 2012 and nothing was ever the same for me again. All those years of being that ugly duckling that no guy would even consider giving the time of day quickly changed into having someone who actually wanted to be called mine and made me feel like I was actually worth something. Our first four months together was full of laughter, kisses, and memories that are now distant yet still remain implanted into bits and pieces in the back of my mind. There was also “I love you’s” exchanged, but we were sixteen and naive. What did we know about love?
As quickly as our beautiful relationship blossomed that Spring, it died out once that horrendous Summer ended. Our two-hour long phone conversations every day where we talked about everything and nothing turned into forced five minute conversations that ended in my tears. His sweet, gentle tone turned into a cold, bitter one that left me questioning if he had grown to despise me for some unknown reason. Whenever he was near, I would find myself noticing those hazel eyes of his that were once locked on me began averting elsewhere. Seeing each other every week turned into him making excuses to be away from me for three weeks until school came near and facing me would be inevitable for him. Then, just a week before my senior year began, he hit me with what I had been warned by my friends was coming but I was too in denial to accept.
He dumped me.
Oh, but he didn’t do it in person, I wasn’t worthy of that. He did so by having me travel to a play of his downtown one hot day in August after deliberately avoiding me for three weeks, hardly acknowledging my existence by having me sit on the sidelines with a depressed face as he took pictures with other women, then sending me home while I was in tears alone in the middle of the night by myself on the train. When I finally obtained the balls to confront him about this on Facebook, since he refused to answer my calls to even at least make sure I was home safe, he made it as though everything was my fault and for a long time I would believe it. I was too shy and boring, he said. He wanted a girl who he could have fun with and didn’t cling onto him all the time because she was too socially awkward to stand on her own two feet. After he was done with his side of why he was leaving me, he decided he had no time to hear what I had to say. He simply left me on seen and changed his relationship status to single, and that was that.
For him, anyway. For me, it was devastating. My first relationship came to an end. The one person that made me genuinely happy for the first time in my life left me with nothing but a broken heart. The week following the breakup was full of starving myself because my stomach ached at the sight of food, and being awake until five in the morning with tears in my eyes as I obsessively stalked his Facebook in hopes of signs of closure and that he missed me.Instead I found him writing about the importance of moving on in life, and dedicating that one Fall Out Boy song where they sing in the chorus, “I don’t blame you for being you, but you can’t blame me for hating it…”, to me. I was convinced that he truly had forgotten me and that five months together meant nothing to him. All the kisses, laughter, and I love you’s meant nothing because I was not interesting or sociable enough for him.
When senior year began, I decided to wipe away those tears and put on a bold demeanor to prove to him that I didn’t need him. Despite the fact that I was still talking in my sleep about him, and resisting the urge to both slap him in the face and beg for him back, I still held my own when facing him in the halls as we walked passed each other as if we never met. That is how it was until one day in the cafeteria, three weeks into the school year, his eyes were planted on me as I talked and laughed away with new friends I made. He then approached me, hugged me, and asked me how I was. In his face, I kept my cool. For the rest of the day, I obsessed over that one interaction wondering if it meant anything. I should not have wanted him back after he abruptly dumped me and expected me to move on, but I didn’t care. All I knew was that he made me happy once, maybe he could again and we could put the horrendous break-up behind us. Having a good heart makes you believe that everyone else does.
That false sense of hope clung onto me that whole senior year. When he and I would have brief exchanges in the hallways or at lunch, the hope would remain. When I dated someone else briefly while I still had him on my mind, and he walked around sulking at the sight of me in the arms of another, hope would remain. When he apologized for hurting me after seeing me sulk around the school for weeks contemplating suicide just around the time I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety, hope would remain. Even when he would call me boring, or when he teamed up with his ex to bully me for moving on to another guy, or when he mocked my weight to other people, I still clung onto hope. When I saw him, I saw not the guy who hurt me, but rather the boy with the hazel eyes who admired me and treated me with such respect the year before.
Then came my last day of high school, quite possibly the last day I would ever see his face again. The day where I would pour out my feelings and determine whether or not we would rekindle our old flame.
Oh silly, naive, Lisa. If only you would accept that once a flame is burned out, there is no way of reviving it. You can create a new flame, but it will not be the same. That is exactly what happened with him and I. He got me alone, and apologized to me for everything he put me through. This is the one thing I will always give him props for; giving me the closure I needed to hear to fully move on. Oh sure, I made a fool of myself by pouring out how I felt about him and how I wanted him back. I also kissed him, but the kiss was everything I needed to tell me that whatever was left between us had died out. When I kissed him, I no longer felt my heart skip a beat but rather emptiness. I no longer felt like I was locking lips with someone I loved, but rather someone who had betrayed me, and left me with little explanation. No matter how hard I tried, I could not relive the past and undo the immense hurt he caused me. He was not that sweet boy I dated a year earlier who cared about me deeply and made me feel valuable, but rather someone who dumped me on Facebook and took six months to fully grasp what he did wrong. Nothing was going to change that.
That was my closure. That was what got me to move on. There was also his confession that he was “crazy,” which made little sense to me until the next year where events took place in which I will not write of. Despite the lack of using his name, what had happened was something I will not disclose out of respect of him and everyone involved in the incident. I will say that when I learned of what happened, everything came together and the asinine reasons he gave me for leaving was merely an excuse to let me go for my own safety. He wanted to protect me from himself. That was enough to allow me to gain all the closure I needed to fully move on and accept that he and I just could not be together under certain circumstances.
I would come to learn, however, that sometimes you do not have the luxury of receiving closure from the person. Sometimes people will just do you dirty, and then leave you to pick up the pieces yourself. There is nothing you can do in that situation, but cope with the pain yourself until you can fully move on. You also will have to learn to live without closure, and instead accept that the person did what they did because they are a remorseless piece of shit. More on that in chapter 2.

 

 

My Thoughts

On the one hand I want to keep going to see what life has in store yet on the other I want to just give in to that blade and those pills that tempt me but yet I cannot bring myself to do so because that fear of eternal darkness consumes me before the blade touches my skin yet at the same time I crave a taste of death maybe it tastes sweeter than this hell of a life and my god how much it will pain my family and the few remaining friends I have but perhaps they will be better off without a burden such as myself yet I question if I am just being selfish or maybe it’s the reality of things because I am equivalent to a pest to those who love me and nothing more than someone you shove into your busy schedule when you need something from me to those who I wish would actually care about me but what does it matter because I have to be kind-hearted though that’s what I have been all my life the moment I shed tears or vent I am merely seeking attention yet if I shit rainbows and speak so monotone suddenly I am too shy so I suppose I cannot win in this hell of a life where I am nothing but worthless and lonely and fuck I just wish that I can freely release my tears and feel loved and relevant and not be someone wearing a mask that depicts a smiling face when all I am is dead and broken inside and I question if I will ever find love or if I will just be viewed as a vulnerable, pathetic girl that guys will use to pleasure themselves and move along or if I am just an unlovable person and if I will ever get anywhere in life and if I will ever stop eating my feelings then feeling fat and repulsive afterwards and also a nights sleep would be nice too instead of closing my eyes and seeing babies stripped of life or questioning if I am loved in any way, and if all these thoughts will continue to consume my mind and if anyone would care or if so-called people who care will continue to ignore or not take seriously cries for help but best believe if something were to happen their eyes will shed phony tears and they will convey fake remorse because that’s how life is, just like Holden Caufield says, everyone is all a bunch of phonies and all anyone ever does anymore is hurt people and God do I wish I gave no more fucks but I know deep down its not who I am for I have too big of a heart and all I ever seek is the good in everyone and all I ever want is to grant people happiness but no one ever seems to wish that for me so I guess I just have to face the harsh reality that not everyone was destined to be happy and the ones who were are just the ones who don’t deserve it and do not feed me with that it gets better bullshit because my life seems a guaranteed eternal sadness and I seem to be despised because all I ever do is get hurt when I have not done any sort of malice to anyone but it doesn’t matter anymore, I am just so tired that I want to close my eyes and end this nightmare of a life where depression consumes my body and soul.