Tag Archives: reality

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! 

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Where Were You

(I haven’t been feeling good all day but I wrote a little something for 9/11)

​I remember when 9/11 happened.

I don’t remember it exactly as it was since I was younger but I remember it vividly. I was 5 going on 6 at the time. I had no idea what was going on, other than something was off that morning.

I was in first grade, and I remember my teacher talking about how something happened in Manhattan but I didn’t understand anything. Then parents started coming in and picking up their kids. During lunchtime my dad came to the cafeteria and took me home, which I found weird because he didn’t tell me he was gonna pick me up early. He brought me home and while he was on the phone I saw on the TV that the news was on every channel. I was terrified because I saw fires, explosions, and people covered in blood. As I said, I was still a child at the time so I didn’t understand how these kinds of things could happen. It was everywhere. Even outside I could hear people listening to the news about what was happening on their radios. I remember crying because I was scared, and even more scared because while my dad was home safe since at the time he worked night shifts (He wound up calling out, which was good considering that he worked near the World Trade Center at the time) my mom was stuck at work later than usual. She works at a school, and since they needed to ensure that the children got home safely first she could not come home until all the kids were picked up. It was understandable, but seeing all those people who were seriously injured on TV and the building falling down made me worry for my mom. 

My mom did eventually make it home safe, but that whole day was frightening. I was young. I didn’t understand death. I didn’t understand hatred. I didn’t understand why people do the things they do. It was the first time I was really exposed to how this world really is and how twisted some people are, how people will do things out of hatred with little care to the innocent lives of others, and for a long time after that I was scared that it would happen again. At the same time, I wanted to pretend it never happened. I would cower in fear whenever commercials came on as a reminder of what happened. I would get paranoid every time I heard a plane. I remember walking in the Times Square station with my family not too long after and seeing a memorial with pictures of people who died, including the face of one woman I saw on the news covered in blood. It baffled me as to how one second, despite being severely injured she was still on the news, but still had died not too long after. I wondered about her life, and about the lives of the others that had been killed. I didn’t know who they were, or any of their loved ones, but I do know that many people suffered losses that day. Many people saw off their husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, friends and so on just to never see them again. I may have been able to pretend it never happened, but they never will. Neither will anyone in New York City, or the United States, or anyone in the whole world. This was not the first terrifying thing to happen in the world, and it would not be the last either. 

It was there I finally learned not only about mortality, but about how cruel this world can be. 

Happy

Happiness is the American dream. The attractive, intellictual spouse and your own, beautiful house. Waking up to the sounds of your children running about and the dog you dreamed of since you were a child being for a walk. Getting in that car that you never once imagined you’d have and driving to your dream job that is the reason you have nine digits in your bank account.

Happiness is the smoke I puff out my lungs. Happiness is knowing I can no longer be hurt because I am and always will be alone. Happiness is waking up to no one by my side that I have to worry will no longer be by my side once they have made any use of me that they desired. Happiness is staying in that same bed an alienating myself from those people I call friends that make me want to tie a noose around my neck. Happiness is getting through the day without shedding a tear or a trigger to a panic attack. Happiness is those pills I swallow to erase these horredous thoughts from my mentally ill “psychotic” mind. Happiness is just surviving through another day without giving into those dark innermost desires I have in which I mask with this pseudo-happiness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 4: For my Ex-Best Friend/Ex-Boyfriend

There is one lyric that describes the relationship we shared perfectly.
“Maybe our relationship isn’t as crazy as it seems, maybe that’s what happens when a tornado meets a volcano…”
-“Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem ft. Rihanna
That was us, always facing tension, always trying to best each other at self-destructive behavior, always at each other’s throats. Yet I would be lying if I said I regretted a second of it.

You were there for me at the darkest point of my life. A time where my heart was in the hands of a boy who crushed it with his bare hands and when I lost someone I loved so dearly you were the first who I dialed because I knew you would go beyond the “aw that sucks” that everyone else said. You pushed me away from the platform edge when I was tempted to jump in front of a train last year and unknowingly saved my life. You gave me a shoulder to cry on when affection was the last thing I wanted. You taught me how to embrace acting childish and not be humiliated about it. You listened to all of my troubles and doubts and didn’t chastise me for being upset at you. You made our last day as boyfriend and girlfriend worth remembering and you continued to protect me from a distance even after we broke up. You proved you genuinely liked me for me and not just for what was under my clothes. Most of all, you were the first person to ever make me comfortable with being my real self and you showed me genuine care, which is very rare nowadays. 

Even the littlest of things you did, I cherished. You had the ability to make me happy that I could care less whether or not we were window shopping or watching movies just so long as I was with you. You got me to sit down and watch all three hours of Titanic in one sitting, you bought me chocolates when I underwent one of the most tragic moments of my life, you got me into movies such as Back to the Future or even movies I hated such as Jaws, you accompanied me to seeing my all-time favorite movie, The Breakfast Club, when it was in movies last year, you got me into binge-watching Friends when I despised the series at first, you helped me gain friends by introducing me to your own friends who are some of the most amazing friends one can ask for, you would make your way to spend as much time as possible with me every day. Even the things we did together and memories shared when we were just friends, such as when you brought me home when I got injured or when we were male and female lead in a play together, were significant to me. I can go on and on about all of our beautiful memories, but point is, whether we were listening to music on the subway at ten ‘o clock at night, or wandering around Central Park, or exploring that toy store you loved working at, I appreciated every moment of it. My two favorites were that night after your show where we shared our first kiss and that day by the Hudson River last night where we made it official. 

We were just like a movie where no matter what the girl and guy always find each other. Where the guy pines after the girl and it takes a year of her paying mind to other assholes before she realizes what’s been under her nose the whole time. Or that movie where the guy and girl break up but somehow in the end they always find each other and end up living happily ever after. We were like Ross and Rachel where no matter how much tension there was between us we always wound up in each other’s life whether romantically or not. 

Except, despite the story of us reflecting to that of a movie, it did not end as every rom-com does. In regards to our relationship, there is no rekindling of our relationship or hopes of reunion. 

I remember you once told me to stop focusing my attention on the negative and start looking more at the positive side of things and for that reason I have only posted the positive side of our relationship throughout this.

Still that doesn’t excuse you leaving me alone on the train in one of my most vulnerable moments of my life and excusing yourself for it. Nor does it excuse all tee tears you caused me to shed and your accusations of me getting upset at little things that were only little things to you. It doesn’t excuse you growing irritated with me when I could barely catch my breath enough to speak nor how you lied me into tagging along with your family to Coney Island then failing to understand why I was frustrated with you when we wound up just walking for hours and hours. It doesn’t excuse what you did to my sister at the family dinner or how you humiliated me in front of my family. It doesn’t excuse you for failing to accept that I was not religious as I attempted to accept your Christianity or dragging me to church. It doesn’t excuse the emotional pain you put me through when you demanded a break after only two months of dating and how you found any excuse to drag me to church when that was not my way of life. It doesn’t excuse your condescending attitude of yours or when you would act different in the face of another person and didn’t defend me against her poor treatment toward me, nor does it excuse your attitude when it all blew up that night where we released all our repressed negative thoughts to each other on the phone after I showed you support at a show you were in and wound up in tears yet again.  

Yet when I remember what we once had, those are not the only memories I focus on, but rather the ones that bring a smile to my face and remember that you were worth it. That when it comes to us, I regret nothing. I am happy that I was blessed at one point with a friend and with a relationship with someone such as you who allowed me to be more courageous in being who I really am and help me get in touch with my little kid side again. 

Sometimes I wish that we could rekindle our friendship. The romantic feelings have faded away yet it doesn’t mean the platonic love I had for you hasn’t. I still sometimes find myself wondering how you are doing, despite everything and despite my wishes that you just stay away from me. I sometimes wish I could just call you up or text you and we could just talk the night away like we once did and turn to each other in a crisis. That is not, however, the path life chose for us and reality hits me that the relationship we once had is all in the past. The tensions that have developed between us has prevented us from ever viewing each other in the same light again. 

I hope when you remember us not in that negative light, however, but rather as I do with my first relationship from years ago. I hope that you know my feelings were genuine and that I enjoyed every second as much as you did. I hope you live with no regrets and know it was not meant to be. I hope you know I wished to never hurt you with what I had done after we stopped talking. I hope your perception of me has not changed as mine had not of you and that when you look back at our memories, you will still have a smile on your face. I hope you know I will always care for you as you do me and wish nothing but happiness for you. I hope that as you grow and mature you find someone who will make you happy one day, because you deserve it. 
-Lisa Marie Wolf

Happiness

Sometimes I wonder if happiness exists. 

Or it’s all just an illusion to guise the fact that life is truly painful. 

The agony and despair some face on a daily basis makes you question if this life is worth living.

A life where I can no longer sleep at night because my mind is clouded with negativity. 

A life where I can barely go a day without tears in my eyes.

A life where I crave loneliness because it’s better than facing the cruelty people bring. 

A life where I can barely feel as though I am worth something no matter how hard I try to get myself to believe otherwise. People can tell me how beautiful and amazing they believe I am; I am still finding it harder to believe with every experience I face. 

A life where I can barely push myself through the day because it takes all my energy to even push myself out of bed into a world of depression and disappointment. 

A life where I have been hurt and tormented so much I am numb. 

A life where I have went over the limits of my strength and now am nothing but vulnerable and easily broken.

A life where I have so many mental scars I can no longer trust someone no matter how genuine they are. 

A life where I feel I can not reach out to anyone, not even my closest of friends out of fear of bothering or  them misunderstanding. 

A life where I am used, betrayed, bullied, and walked all over then left questioning if I deserve it.

A life where no one understands the impact of their words and treatment toward someone. 

A life where I am too delicate to handle this poor treatment. 

A life where no amount of pills or therapy will help. 

A life where I cannot express any of this out of fear of being deemed as crazy or crying for attention. 

A life where I no longer remember what happiness feels like or if I ever felt it at all. 

Or as an ex of mine once so delightfully said, 

“No one wants a depressed, insecure girl who whines all the time.”

I have came to the conclusion that some of us just aren’t meant to be happy. I ponder at times if I am one of those people. 

My Reasons Why-Part 3

Part 3-“Jason” 

 When we are young, we are taught that when a boy is mean to you, it means he likes you. Most girls learn the hard way that this isn’t true. Some girls never learn. Why do you think that so many girls chase after assholes? If this, “guys being jerks to you because they like you,” was true, then a lot of boys must have liked me when I was younger. 

 Especially this boy we’ll call “Jason.”

 My first crush was a boy in Kindergarten. I didn’t understand what liking meant yet or how to handle it. That’s probably why I would kiss him on the cheek without permission, which would get me in timeout and the boy was pretty much freaked out after that by me. Every little crush I had after that I just kind of ignored because I was supposed to believe boys were gross. I was also too embarrassed to after what happened with that boy in kindergarten. 

 Then came Jason. 

 Jason was in my class fifth to eighth grade. For the first three years he was just another boy in my class. He and I never really interacted except for when he would occasionally joke around with me. Despite being in the same middle school class, us talking was rare.

 How Jason became the first boy I ever really liked, I don’t understand. All I know is that one day I noticed how attractive Jason was. He had the cutest eyes and he was a funny guy. Now that I look back at it, I question why I even liked him, but twelve-year-old me didn’t care. I would get nervous around Jason, feel butterflies at the slightest touch, and when he was around I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. I would think about what it would be like to date him. People would get tired of hearing his name leaving my lips constantly. 

 The only problem? As I stated, we never talked other than a few jokes here and there. To him, I was just some girl in his class. I was extremely shy and had no friends until eighth grade and I was really unattractive so it’s not like I could stand out. I mean I wanted to, but I didn’t know how to get his attention. When seventh grade ended and I knew we wouldn’t see each other for a few months, I made a Myspace with the sole purpose of talking to him. He accepted my friend request but still I was too nervous to speak to him. When I finally did, no response. I was disappointed but determined to grab his attention somehow that summer.   

 Jason and I had shared one conversation. One of my friends, who I’ll call Christian, had messaged Jason. At that time, I couldn’t understand why Christian had done it but apparently he was determined to prove that Jason was a jerk and decided to prove it to me in his own twisted Christian way. I woke up one morning to a message from Jason on Myspace. I remember Christian mentioned making a Myspace to talk to Jason but I didn’t think he was serious until Jason messaged me in capital letters telling me to leave him alone, why was Christian messaging him making fun of him and asking for his age and that he doesn’t know me well or want to get to know me. This crushed me. My first time liking a boy and already any chance of something happening was ruined. Christian did me a favor, but I didn’t know that at the time. I was too wrapped up in my infatuation and convinced that Christian ruined it for me. 

 Jason apologized after I sent him a message begging him for forgiveness. He accepted with a much calmer message and we talked a little bit so naturally I assumed everything was okay between us.

 Until he got a girlfriend. From there, it all went downhill. 

 It was the beginning of eighth grade, the year full of ups and downs. Ups because I became best friends with a girl in my class so I opened up more and began to stand up to bullies in my grade. This girl was a reflection of me and I find it a shame that she and I lost touch. She helped me get through eighth grade immensely.

 Since I started standing up to the bullies, the intensity increased. I had textbooks thrown at me, called every insult you could think of, and I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without being the butt of people’s jokes. I was always the quiet one so aside from my best friend I didn’t speak to anyone really. For this reason, I failed to understand why I was the target of severe bullying. I didn’t mess with anyone and before that year I didn’t talk to anyone. I would cry and wonder why I was so ugly and awkward. I believed these insults toward me. 

 The fact that a boy I liked joined in on it was even worse. 

 I honestly can’t remember how. I do remember that Jason began to dislike me because of the Christian situation. Even though he was okay with it online, he began to join in on the bullying in school. Jason would refuse to sit near me, force me to not look in his direction at all, and accuse me of being nosy. I remember one day this girl joked about Jason taking me to prom. At this point, I had done nothing to Jason to deserve being humiliated, yet Jason decided to take the opportunity to mortify me by screaming, “Ewww,” and pretending to gag. No one laughed and one girl even called him out for it, but I was overcome with a feeling I had never felt before. That feeling of defeat, of rejection, of self-loathing. This would intensify through the course of that year. 

 There was also the time where Jason cursed me out on AIM. Jason found out I liked him. Our whole eighth grade class did. Between my big mouth and the big mouth of a “friend” I told, Jason’s girlfriend found out. This “friend” also didn’t fail to leave out what I said about Jason’s girlfriend out of jealous rampage. Now, Jason’s ex-girlfriend was a nice girl. She was popular but not cocky about it and very forgiving toward me for my poor treatment toward her. Jealousy was new to me and I didn’t know how to handle it. I may come off as crazy in this story, but I was twelve. I was naïve and socially awkward.

 I didn’t deserve anything Jason did to me that year. I just liked him. I couldn’t control my feelings or what Christian did. I regretted not keeping my stupid mouth shut about liking Jason. He was my first real crush. Had I known telling a few friends would result in the whole eighth grade knowing, I would have kept my mouth shut.

 I knew I was mocked behind my back, but I had no idea that I was so repulsive and hideous that Jason was teased because I had a crush on him. Skinny, pale, pimply faced, awkward, weird Lisa likes Jason. Hahaha, let’s laugh at her. Poor Jason. 

 For a long time after I would keep my mouth shut about my feelings. When I liked someone, I never told them because of how badly Jason reacted and how humiliating it was. Even now if I develop the balls to be open about my feelings to someone when I like them, I keep my mouth shut to everyone except close friend who don’t know the guy so that I am not the butt of everyone’s jokes. 

 Okay, so I embarrassed Jason by liking him. Did I deserve him cursing me out on AIM? Did I deserve the first boy I ever really liked calling me ugly, scary, dirty, pale, weird and any other name he could think of? Did I deserve having jokes about part of my family being Jewish and being white thrown at me when I did nothing wrong? I didn’t even insult him. I tried to be nice and went as far as apologizing and pleading for this to stop. I know now that Jason didn’t deserve an apology but I liked Jason and my naïve brain tried to spare his feelings and needed his forgiveness. I needed forgiveness from a guy who called me a psycho and informed me that I was considered the ugliest girl in school. The next day, he gloated to his friends as if cursing me out was something to be rewarded. I didn’t matter. I had no feelings.

 This bullying resumed for my final year of middle school. One day I decided I couldn’t take it anymore and fought back. The insults, the cursing out and the humiliation all began to overwhelm me. I don’t remember how it started, but I remember this one day, Jason and I began dissing each other and I just started coming up with comebacks. Jason and I went at it for hours until it turned into a fight of paper balls and me smacking him with a book. I was proud of myself but the bullying didn’t end there. For the whole year, Jason and his friends made it their goal to make my life miserable. They would attack any little thing I did even if I was just sitting down minding my own business. When it came to class presentations, I couldn’t speak without one of Jason’s friends doing something to purposely disrupt me. Near the end of my senior year, almost all the boys and some girls hated me for no reason. A game was made where you had to avoid anything I touched because I was “dirty” and if you touched it you would become as dirty as me. Even people who I never even spoke to joined in on this sick little game. 

 The worst part? I still liked Jason. I don’t know what possessed me to keep liking him at all. Maybe these were early signs of my tendency to like guys who treat me like utter shit. Jason made my last year of middle school hell, but I still clung onto feelings for a guy that was repulsed by me and insulted me in ways worse than any other boy has. Jason would violently throw balls at me in gym class and make fun of the way I spoke even if I wasn’t talking to him. When Jason’s friend made me cry because of an insensitive holocaust joke toward me, all Jason was worried about was whether or not he was in trouble. Jason was the worst kind of asshole and why I continued to crush on him and hoped he would quit bullying me, I don’t know.

 Of course, that didn’t happen. After I graduated middle school, I never saw or spoke to Jason again. We were Facebook friends for a while but we never spoke. Looking back on Jason, I wonder what I ever saw in that kid and why I continued to harbor romantic feelings for him despite the severe bullying he did to me. 

 The sad part is that, even if I didn’t like Jason and he and his friends found another reason to bully me, it still would have hurt just as much. 

 They tell you that sticks and stones may break your bones but names will never hurt you. Personally, I’d take getting hit with a dodgeball by Jason over him reminding me how ugly and weird I am every day. I’ve heard that bullying wouldn’t exist if everyone would just ignore it, but how would I ignore nearly half my middle school class calling me names and teasing my every move for no reason? I was already bullied heavily during all of elementary school, did I really need it to follow me throughout middle school? 

 For a long time, I believed that I deserved it. I believed that since everyone seemed to have it out for me, I must have been all these things there were calling me. Now, this isn’t true because I never did anything to deserve the bullying and a lot of them did it to fit in. However, that fact alone of being so repulsive that it became cool to bully me made me wonder why? Why did Jason feel compelled to bully me when all I did was like him? Why did anyone feel compelled to bully me?

 Even if seven years has passed since this happened, it still haunts me. I’ve grown to love myself a little more, but it hasn’t been an easy journey. Sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror, I still think of Jason’s words along with the words of the taunting middle schoolers and hate myself. 

 The worst part of it was that none of them would care about the long-lasting impact their cruel words had on me. They can just move along and sleep well at night, not caring that what they thought was just a little insult to them ruined a person’s self-esteem and perception of herself. 

My Reasons Why- Part 1

Usually, when you think of your first heartbreak, you think of an ex or a former love. You never expect your first heartbreak, your first disappointment, the first guy to hurt you to be a family member.

Heartbreaks don’t have to be based on romance in my eyes. They could involve betrayal and agony caused by someone you love dearly in a non-romantic way. When this person is someone close to you, someone you have loved with all your heart since the day you were born, someone you looked up to as a role model, the pain that they cause could very well count as heartbreak. A heartbreak is derived from someone who you loved but they let you down.

That is exactly what this person did. I loved this person with all my heart and still do, but he still let me down immensely.

When I was a child, he was the first man I loved. He introduced me to so many things and places, he spoiled me and he seemed to be the only person to understand me. In a world where I was bullied and a loner, he was always there for me. If I ever felt down I would remember that I was his little princess. All of my childhood memories consist of him. Him taking me to parks, to his workplace, going on school trips, and taking me around the city. We would have our own special days where I would take off from school and him from work just to spend time together. Every year we would go to this nice vacation spot in New Jersey where we would go to the beach and go on the rides. He always stuck up for me and went out his way to make sure I was happy. We just had that bond, which is rare with most of my family. I idolized this man so much that not once did his flaws become apparent to me.

Even when he made women cry, or when he would break things out of anger, or when he lashed out, I still saw him as perfect. He was so good to me and he never got physical with anyone so I thought nothing was wrong. Just like how I learned from this man the different parts of the city or about great musicians and how trees live long lives, I learned how to express anger the wrong way.

Obviously now I know it’s wrong, but with me being a child back then, I didn’t know any better. I assumed that he knew best. I tried to follow his footsteps in every way even if I began to notice he was becoming more and more alone and that his mistreatment toward people wasn’t fair.

I’ll now fast forward to when I was fourteen. By this time he and I would still spend time together from time to time but there was also a good distance between us. At this time I was a teenager and already he had stopped carrying me around and calling me princess, and rightfully so because I was fourteen and that wasn’t him. This story will not include any sexual or physical abuse because he never did any of that. There is verbal abuse, which hurts just as much, but that’s for later.

Anyway, I noticed for years that he began to let himself go. He stopped taking care of himself physically and that worried me. He also stopped going out and dropped one of his best friends out of the blue. He and his friend went all the way back to childhood and in my earliest memories he would go over to his friend’s house a lot and they would talk on the phone for hours. We would go over to his house just to watch boxing or hang out in New Jersey. The fact that he dropped this friend without any warning or argument seemed sketchy.

Since I loved him so much even though we were growing apart, I tried to talk to him. I tried to keep that bond going but it wasn’t the same. Gone were the days where he would take me out, gone were the days of conversation, gone were the days of sharing his intelligence with his little did-you-know’s. He lived with me, yet I saw him less. He spent more time alone in a room than with anyone. Going out with him was having my headphones on and praying he wouldn’t lash out or make a crude joke about someone. Conversations were just him making fun of people, which became a bore once I grew older and wanted serious talks and advice. His jokes became disturbing to me. When I came to him for advice, I would get mocked or ignored. A thought began to haunt me. What if he wasn’t perfect but rather an overly angry man who mistreated people and had a childish mindset? What if he had serious issues I overlooked because I was so blinded by my childhood perception of him? I was so fixated on the idea that he was perfect. Looking back now, I realize there was so many red flags to prove he wasn’t.

When this realization came over me, I was devastated. This was like finding out that your boyfriend who you have been with for a long time wasn’t who you thought he was but ten times worse because this was someone I knew all my life. I wasn’t ready to accept who he really was. I refused to let go of hope that he would become the man I saw him as when I was a kid. Sadly, that wasn’t the real him and I learned the hard way that once you see someone’s true colors, there is no going back. When I tried to talk to him, he dismissed it and told me he didn’t care about himself anymore. This disturbing comment, though I didn’t understand it as depression at the time, told me he wasn’t okay and that there was nothing I could do but watch the man I love fall apart and turn into a complete stranger.

One of my worst experiences with him took place in mid-2012. He, for a long while, was feeling sick and had pains in his body. Him being him, he ignored the pain until it became too unbearable. Then one night in August 2012, I was about to perform opening night for this play I was in at the time. After the show, I was informed that he was rushed to the hospital. While I was doing final rehearsals and my makeup, he decided he couldn’t take the pain anymore and rushed to the hospital. Naturally, I cried and cried. I visited him and saw him as vulnerable as can be for the first time ever. The man who I viewed as strong and flawless was lying on a bed in a hospital, too weak to speak and connected to IVs. He was hiccupping and far from himself. I tried to stay strong but I ended up running to the bathroom to break down.

What he had was called diverticulitis. It’s a disease in your colons caused by the consumption of too much unhealthy crap like fried foods and lack of fiber. The diverticulitis kept him in the hospital for two months. Excluding one week where he was sent home because he believed he was cured. He ended up facing sickness and unbearable pain again. I visited him twice but couldn’t get myself to anymore after a while. At one point they had to keep him isolated because he developed something contagious which was even scarier.

Despite undergoing a good amount of weight loss and going through a terrifying two months at the hospital, he still failed to take care of himself. I was sickened to watch what he had become and I still cry for him but at some point I quit trying to push him to take care of himself. I only hurt myself in the process and they do say that you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. I mean at least I can say that I tried.

Over the years he has gotten worse. Not just health-wise, which I won’t even talk about because it’s too unpleasant, but also in regards to the fact that his insults have gotten worse. He uses words to hurt the whole family. He would try and defend me. If he made me cry or insulted me for things like my depression he would apologize and blame it on having a hard day at work or something. I would think about it and compare it to abuse. Even if he has never hit or beaten any of us and there has been no sexual abuse involved, it’s still abuse. Eventually the apologies stopped because I stopped defending him. He began to see that I was no longer the naïve little girl that sided with his abuse. I would always feel pity for him and still do. I will always love him, but I can only do it from a distance. I long to be able to spend another day with him or be able to turn to him for advice without him judging me or acting cold. I long for him to start taking care of himself because even if he doesn’t care I do. I long to have that image of a happy loving family I’ve always had in my head with my parents, my sister, and I fulfilled. But the more time passes the more I realize that it’s never going to happen.

I can pray, I can beg, I can hope all I want. He’ll never go back to who he once was. That strong, perfect man I once knew is gone and he’s developed into someone I don’t know. All I’m left with is these memories of who he once was that hurts too much to think about. What hurts even worse than anything he says to put me down is the reality that he will never be the man I once knew again.

The Wolf

Lisa Marie Wolf 

Her face remains implanted in my head. The oxygen mask, her gasps for air, her constant moans of pain. I remember the feel of her bony, wrinkly fingers in mine. I still recall the haunting look in her sleep-deprived eyes. This face, I think in the deep dark parts of my mind, is not how I want to remember her.
She was never a fragile woman. In her life, which spanned to nearly nine decades, she accomplished many things. She came from the Philippines and gave birth to five beautiful children. She overcame many hardships and developed into a strong and beautiful woman. Despite living a difficult life, she managed to be a selfless mother and grandmother. If you asked her for the world, she would give it to you. That was just the kind of woman she was. She helped everyone whenever they needed it. She was the glue that kept the family together by putting together family parties on the holidays as much as she could.
This is the woman I want to remember.
The woman who started it all. The woman who created and kept together a family of wolves. She was a leader. A strong, courageous woman who put everyone else before herself. The woman who would tear apart the whole house looking for a blanket until she found one just because you told her you were cold. The woman who would keep feeding you even if you weren’t hungry anymore. The woman who gave and gave because she genuinely wanted to and not because she had to. The woman who stayed strong for so many years.
She is a fighter. She is a wolf.
She loves her whole family with all her heart. She wants every one of her siblings, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to be happy. She is just generous like that. She always made sure everyone was enjoying themselves and will forever continue to make sure everyone is well-fed and taking care of themselves.
She is the splitting image of what everyone should be like. Kind, strong, dedicated, and hard-working.
No matter how frail or vulnerable she becomes, that is the woman we will remember her as.
The woman who is smiling that beautiful smile in her photos? That’s her.
She is a fighter. She is the leader in our family of wolves.
-LISA MARIE L. 

Cleaning Out My Closet 

Well I felt the need to post this because it’s an experience I’ve been wanting to share. I shared an experience through a blog involving this same guy back in April, but this is viewing my experience with him in both a different light and with a new moral. Months have passed, I no longer have any contact with him other than having two or three of his friends on social media, and I have had time to cool off about the whole situation.

I’ve cooled off enough to accept my faults in it, to forgive him for my own sake, and to say everything I am about to say.

We all have that one person or thing that changes us for the rest of our lives. We may experience other things that affect us, but nothing will ever affect us quite like that one person/thing. It will cause us immense pain before finally teaching us a valuable lesson that will cause us to mature.
I believe I had that experience already.
He was in my life for a brief time, yet he affected my life in many ways. Now I know for a fact that I am not, and probably never will be, that important to him. I may no longer speak to him but there’s no doubt he never thinks of me, speaks of me, or considers me as an important part of his life. I would not be considered worth his time enough to write a blog post at 4am on a summer night about me. I am probably just another notch in his bedpost.
Knowing this, why bother writing this? Am I hoping he will see this and come back to me? Is this a way to get revenge on him? Do I hope he feels at least a little remorse?
My answer? None of those. I have no desire to get back at him for all the emotional pain he caused me nor do I want him back in my life again. I just want to share my experience in hopes that it will prevent people from making the same mistakes I did. I would also like to make a certain cause aware that many people are blind to.
I met him in Summer of 2014. I was 18, he was 25. Already, the conflict becomes clear. I, however, always thought of age as a number. Boy, was I right about that in a different way. One moral that we can already pull from this story before it even begins; older does not mean wiser. You could be 25, 47, or even 68, and still be very immature to a point where there are teenagers that have more brain than you. Your actions and lifestyle determine your maturity, not a number.
Anyway, I met him a little over a year ago through a mutual friend on Facebook. I liked a friend of his at the time, but he seemed to be interested in me from the moment we became friends on Facebook. Now, during this time I was in a vulnerable state. I was recently assaulted by a professor and suffering from extreme depression. He knew all this before we got into anything. Still, he made advantages toward me and told me what I wanted to hear. He would constantly compliment me and give me advice to feel good about myself whenever I was down. I began to confide in him more than my friends because he always seemed to know what to say. He also swore he liked me and even that he wanted to be with me at some point. Time passes, I ended up liking him back. I fell for everything he said simply because he told me things I wanted to hear from a guy then. I did not care or find it strange that this guy who had never met me in person and knew me for a very short time already spoke of dating me. He even went as far as joking that he was better than his best friend that I had a crush on. I just lacked so much self-respect at that time that I allowed him to manipulate me and was naive enough to believe he meant it.
Just like me being so naive and me having a bad self-esteem caused me to allow him to take me for granted in hopes that he would like me.
That’s right. I became one of those girls who give themselves willingly to a guy in hopes of him liking them.
For many weeks throughout last fall, I continued to allow myself to be used by this older guy who I liked a lot but had no intentions of dating me. Now this creates the argument of whether or not he used me, which I am sure he will forever say he did not, and it creates the argument of the fact that I had the ability of making my own choices.
I’ll make this clear: I accept the fact that I messed up too. You know what? I’ve accepted that since whatever happened between me and him ended. I will never say he was the only one wrong. I will accept that I should not have messed with him in the first place when everyone warned me to stay away from him. I will accept that I should not have slept with someone and expected him to date me after. I will accept that I should have known he was not looking for anything serious when he said he just wanted a friends with benefits (from anyone in general) before we even got involved.
I accept all that.
But, it takes two to screw up, and my faults here are not as extreme as his.
In addition to manipulating a young girl, he was also aware of me and how I am. He knew that I had a low self-esteem. He knew that I had been assaulted earlier that year. He knew that I was inexperienced. He knew that I liked him a lot and was expecting more, which he had somewhat promised.
Knowing what he was dealing with, he should have stopped it. Sure, I had the choice to. Yet there is one thing that is forgotten here. I did not know better. I repeat, I did not know better. He can go ahead and argue that, as he said so sweetly to me, ‘He was not aware I was not capable of making my own choices,’ yet he does not realize that it has little to do with my ability to make choices. It’s that there were plenty of things about me I made clear to him that he chose to ignore. So while I made the mistake in choosing to ignore that he was not looking for anything serious when we got involved, he chose to not take quite a few things into consideration:
He chose to ignore that due to my self-esteem, I would fall for anything he said. Oh wait, he did not ignore this. He used it to his advantage.
He chose to not put things to a stop when he saw I was catching feelings. I made this obvious, and even spelled it out for him. When I even finally went off on him for things not going as he promised, making it clear to him that I was not comfortable with us not going anywhere other than friends with benefits, he still kept it going instead of deciding to be honest with me or putting it to a stop.
He seems to have ‘forgotten’ everything he said before I gave him what he wanted. He also seemed to make things up as I began to accuse him of using me. He ‘forgot’ that he did say he was interested and that it might go somewhere. He ‘forgot’ that he never said no to us doing anything. He ‘forgot’ that he slickly started it all by doing things I was not comfortable with before I gave in. He claims he asked me if it was okay if we never dated, when he did not. What he did do? Drag along the idea of us dating in the future until he had got what he wanted from me for a while, then claim that he has decided that he is not interested in dating me. Even after, he continued to do it and claimed that it was my fault because he was not a, in his words, a ‘mind controlling mind controller’ (because he has such a way with words) unable to grasp the idea that I may just have strong feelings for him that I could not help. Even if he did so-called like me and did not feel as strongly about me as I did him, a person who truly liked you would stop this because they care about you too much to hurt you, correct? I was too naive at the time and believed he genuinely liked me.
He chose to have me travel to his house in Brooklyn when I live far from there alone at nighttime when it was dangerous on the subway. Oh sure he took me home, very few times. His justifying for this was that he was not allowed to take me home because I lived too far. A 25 year old man could not take a young girl who lives nearly two hours away home once a week but could go to parties until 4am.
He chose to get me into a messy situation and then abandon me. I do not want to discuss this situation anymore, but I will say that though we were both to blame, he did not take the fault. He did not want to use something that could have protected us from it happening even though he should have known better. He manipulated me into not wanting to use it either. While I accept that I should have known better, he, being the more experienced one, should have been more aware as opposed to being so careless about it. To add insult to injury, when he put me in this situation he wanted me to make a decision about it I was uncomfortable with and pressured me to a point where I broke down many times. When I put my foot down and made it clear I would not do it, he left me to face it alone. Such a man.
Other awful things he did to me that I admit should have been red flags of him was never introduce me to his friends and never went out his way to find something we could do outside of being in the house. He also never once would offer to spend money on me at least for food when we were out the first few times. Oh, but he liked me from the start right?
None of those things, however, can beat the overall heartache I experienced from this situation. All I did was fall for him, and I never asked to. You can’t make someone fall for you, but when you are dealing with a naive girl with low self-esteem you should know better than to try and pursue her just to get what you want and leave. I did nothing to him. I gave him more chances than he deserves because I caught feelings beyond my control. I took a lot of pain and still managed to be nice to him because I believe he was worth it. I travelled to another part of New York City to see him. I did not lash out on him. (I eventually did but this was months later after things between us were over) I tried to reason with him even when he said rude, insensitive things that made me cry such as, ‘I certainly don’t want a girl who gets mad over little things’. He made rude comments too when we got ourselves into that messed up situation, being inconsiderate to the fact that I was facing consequences more than him and him still being a little brat about it all because I did not do what he wanted. I needed his support, yet he would say things like ‘if you want to complain about it then you can go through it alone’ and stating that it was my decision to go through with it and therefore I deserved to deal with it alone and he did not have to deal with it. He was always a big gamer and I wasn’t, so I dealt with him making me not feel good enough just because he wanted a girl who loved gaming as much as him. I dealt with his insensitive sense of humor and jokes that made me cringe. I dealt with him hardly acknowledging my existence at his house most of the time to a point where I enjoyed talking to his friend who lived with him more than I enjoyed talking to him. He would use the excuse of him being bad at conversation, yet I am introverted as well and I would never have done that to him. I also waited for him for months, all because I genuinely liked him and was naive enough to believe that he would feel the same way. In addition to him suddenly losing interest in me after I gave him what he wanted, he also used the excuse that he was not ready for a relationship. What does he go and do not too long after this? He gets involved with another girl. This relationship also began during the time we were in that mess of a situation, confirming it meant nothing to him. Imagine being put through all this by a guy you liked a lot just for him to use you but give some other girl a chance. For a long while, I felt like I was not good enough and that is why he gave her a chance but just got what he wanted from me and then kicked me to the curb. I found it interesting too considering his perspective on dating involved him saying ‘people could have sex and date, and the dating still means nothing.’ Oh, and he got this girl to attempt to talk me into doing what he wanted in our situation. That made me finding out they were together a hell of a lot harder.
Point is, though, I liked him. He was the first guy I liked and trusted since an ex-boyfriend of mine from years ago. I had not fallen for someone as I did with him in such a long time. To have him treat me that way knowing how much I went through and knowing how I felt about him made me so furious and hurt that I lost it at times and even questioned my own self-worth. I felt like I hated him, but deep down I knew I still liked him a lot even after all that and that hurt even more. For the first time in a long time, my heart was broken. He managed to break my heart in a different way, however. It was so broken I felt nothing but agony and anger. Any other guy who hurt me gave me closure and came to their senses and apologized to me, then proved they were sorry. He did not.
And I don’t think he ever will.
So here I will say something shocking: I don’t hate him. And though I said the complete opposite to him out of rage months ago, I don’t regret what we did and I am glad I met him.
I know it sounds crazy, but what he did to me and put me through taught me valuable lessons. Because of Rico, I was able to accept that there are fucked up people in this world that will never see what they did to you. As opposed to getting revenge or attempting to force them to see their faults, you have to just let it go and let karma get them. He taught me that as opposed to giving guys chances when they hurt me to an extreme, I should just let them go for my own sake as opposed to trying to change them. He rid me of my naive mindset and allowed me to open up my eyes to the reality of the world. He put me in a situation that, though the outcome was tragic, allowed me to mature as a person. His using me taught me not to give myself fully to a guy in hopes that he will like me and not to fall so easy. I was able to learn to accept that I can’t get everyone on my side even if I am right here.
So I thank him. Without him, I would have still been the naive girl I was a year ago. And I would not have learned that you need to get hurt sometimes or make mistakes on your own in order to learn a valuable lesson. The guy I once regarded as a waste of my time is now the one who will always serve as the person that changed my life. He’ll never know it, and that is okay. I still do not wish to have anything to do with him, I just view our past situation in much more positive light.
I am also writing this as a way to raise awareness to guys like him who took advantage of young girls with low self-esteem. It happens a lot more often than people think, and very often it comes off like the girls fault when in reality someone cannot help that they lack self-confidence, and it is not their fault that the guy manipulates them. It is not as extreme as rape, but it has the same concept as to the guy using the girls vulnerability to his advantage. (and yes, though I say girls I know it can happen to guys too, so guys in this situation can always replace ‘girl’ with ‘guy’) But anyway, it is time to put attention to men who are so desperate for sex that they are willing to manipulate a young girl with low self-esteem and emotionally damage her, then make it look like it is her fault. And I hope my story will somewhat help that cause.
I am much stronger now thanks to this experience. And I would hope the same for anyone who has faced this as well.
So thank you.