Tag Archives: thoughts

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?

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Taking It Slow

I have never been great at taking it slow.

When you have anxiety, patience is not in your vocabulary. You must always be active in order to maintain inner peace. You cannot sit still for more than a few seconds without feeling like you need to be doing something. Stillness leads to being alone in your mind, and being alone in your mind means that it can race on and on, and there is nothing you can do to catch up with all those thoughts you’re having. When it comes to anxiety, there is no relaxation or tranquility, just your mind running on as your heart races and you experience shortness of breath just trying to keep up with it. Your mind is moving at the speed of light, and you can try to catch up but no matter how hard you try your brain will be miles ahead. Still I do my best to keep up with the constant train of thoughts my brain generates throughout the day, good and bad.

Speed can be beneficial in many situations, but there are also times where you may be advised to take it slow. Whether it’s someone who is trying to complete too many tasks at once, or experiencing a new relationship, or mourning the loss of a loved one, the phrase “take it slow” is constantly told to us. There is no right pace to move at so long as you do not try to move at an unrealistically fast pace when attempting to complete more tasks than you can handle in one day or expect to quickly grow accustomed to someone who played a major role in your life no longer being a part of it. As Confucius once said, “It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”

I have many goals set for myself, and I often find myself striving to achieve them all at once. I know that I have a long life ahead of me to complete them all, and I will come across many more goals I want to set for myself, yet I tend to hear this imaginary timer go off in my head as I remind myself of how much work needs to be done to achieve my goals. This imaginary timer convinces me that I have failed because I am already at this stage in my life and have achieved so little compared to others my age. Time is valuable, and before I know it thirty years will pass and I will be in my fifties grasping onto hope that I will at least accomplish something before I die. I fear if I don’t reach any of my goals now, I never will.

While I am overcoming that fear, I am still fighting the mindset I have of “now or never” when it comes to most goals. That mindset has been prevalent during the moving on process from my ex-boyfriend.

One piece of advice I have received when it came to coping with my break-up was to take as much time as I needed. Feel what I need to feel. Cry, miss him, hate him, grieve, feel relieved, reflect, look forward instead of back, think about him, occupy myself with other things, do whatever it takes to move forward. It could take weeks, months, and even years. Regardless of how horribly he treated me in the end of the relationship and how things ended between us, this man played a significant role in my life and I had been deeply in love with him. As unnatural as it feels to still be reminded of him and long for his presence at times when we have not spoken or seen each other for two months, it is in fact a normal part of the moving on process. Even when I reach that stage of full acceptance and finally move on, he will always remain in my heart and certain songs or places will always remind me of him.

Moving on from an ex-lover is not something that can be done in a day, especially if it is someone that you spend every weekend with for a year and a half, shared some of your best memories with, changed for the better for, and built a sense of trust and intimacy with. It does not help if you had promised to spend your life together and had come to believe that they were the one.

One thing that my ex-boyfriend and I had believed was that we would never be able to replace each other. We had always said no matter what happened between us, we would never be able to love someone else like we loved each other and we would never be able to relive what we had for each other. That is true in a sense where I will never be able to fall in love with him again. A part of me will always love him, but after the way things ended and what I came to learn about him after we broke up, I will never be able to look at him the same or love him as I once did. Whenever I do fall for someone else, I will not love them for the same reasons I loved my ex-boyfriend. They may have some of the same attributes that I loved him for, but they will not be exactly like him at all. I also will not be as naïve or as tolerant of some behaviors as I was with him. My ex-boyfriend and I had some good times together, and he did have his good attributes, but in the end, the bad outweighed the good too much to maintain a happy and healthy relationship. This was a fact that I refused to accept when he broke up with me, but it is something I have come to accept as a fact on my own.

We were not meant to be. We were not compatible. He was not the one.

I have come to accept that. I have also come to accept that if he showed up on my front porch begging for me back, I would decline. As hard as it would be for me to look into those big brown eyes of his that would once be hard for me to resist and say no, I cannot see us getting back together and being genuinely as happy as we once were. It could start off that way, but we would soon fall into the same rhetoric of explosive arguments and toxicity as we did the last few months of our relationship. If his anger issues and tendency to allow his friends to make his decisions as well as let them speak and treat me however they wanted did not change in the time we were still together, there is no doubt that it still has not changed. Old habits die hard.

Even with reaching the acceptance stage that we are not meant for each other, I still have not reached a point of saying with confidence that I have fully moved on. In spite of feeling as though I did throughout last month, the transition into the new year was my reality check that moving on does truly require taking it slow. The faster I move, the more likely I will fall once I am hit with a reminder of him that triggers those emotions toward him I still have buried deep with in that I have not yet dealt with.

Taking it slow will also become crucial when facing possible feelings I may have for someone new. I had met someone last month who stood out to me not only because of his appearance, but also because he had let off positive vibes and we had quite a bit in common. There was just something that drew me to him. I plan to get to know him better, and I plan to practice “taking it slow” as I am trying to do with the moving on process. In do so, I will not only be able to get to know this person and determine whether or not I want to give it a shot, I can also continue to have my focus on moving on so that if something ever does come out of this, I can know that I am moved on and not just rushing into something new. I do not believe he is just a rebound crush, I just do not want to take a step I am not sure that I am ready for.

I have never been great at taking it slow, but it is important to do so in order to maintain healthy relationships with others and with myself.


Announcements:

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.

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.

 

For My Special Someone

Who knew that something special could blossom out of a short encounter with someone who I thought did not even notice my existence?

The months leading up to when I met him were undoubtedly the worst months of my life by far. I fell into the deepest pits of depression and despair to a point where I believed there was no chance of climbing back to the top. My whole life was falling apart at the seams; between  being surrounded by loss and overwhelmed with loneliness, I could not imagine how “it would all get better in time.” Just as I near gave up at any chance of happiness, he somehow found his way into my life. He was the ray of light in the darkness my life was in early 2016.

Oh sure, a guy coming along being the thing that filled the empty void I kept feeling in my life seems trite, yet it was indeed him that pulled me out of that slump. From the moment I met him at the first social event I went to after months of isolating myself from the world, I could tell he was something special. I do not believe in love at first sight, but I do believe that when we met, just by hearing him talk and by the way he approached other people, I knew there was something delightfully unique about him. I could tell he was a beautiful person, inside and out.

Despite the vibes I got from him, I never imagined it was my life that would be affected by him. When we met, we hardly spoke and I assumed it would be the last I ever saw of him. I was used to crossing paths with attractive men and never heard from them again. This one, however, I knew was worth pursuing out that bunch. He was genuinely a sweetheart by the way he talked to his friends and the way he hugged me when I left despite the fact that we barely spoke to each other at all. I did not remember his name, nor did I want to be that creep that asked my friends who he was. Somehow, by chance, I found him and added him on Facebook, and that is where it all began.

What has ensued after that day in June was the best months of my life so far. A month of getting to know each other, and six months of loving (liking at first) and laughing until my cheeks hurt.

In July, I had a crush on him that I refused to let out despite being unable to stop thinking about how he was so protective over me despite barely knowing me and how adorable his laugh was when we first spent a few minutes together as he walked me home from work. Then, when I was sure the crush was unrequited despite the fact that he was displaying conspicuous signs of interest, he kissed me and thus changing everything between us. At first, I was skeptical to let him in as I was used and emotionally abused by every guy I had ever been involved with, but he was easily able to prove otherwise.

Once I let him in, he proved that I had made the right decision. As opposed to being some girl he wanted to fuck around with until something else came along, he began to show me off to his friends as his girl and keep me around as much as possible. It almost seemed too good to be true; a guy I liked had been proud to be called mine and genuinely enjoyed my presence. He would do anything to make sure I was safe as well by doing things such as walking me home and running to my side the moment danger arose. Despite his sense of humor, he managed to stay tactful around me for my own sake, something that no one had even cared to do for me.

What really tugged my heart strings was watching the smile across his face whenever I planted a kiss on his cheek, and whenever he talked about how happy I made him. Never in my life had I felt so special; I had the ability to make someone else actually feel happy!

It was by October, I realized I enjoyed even the littlest things about him. How focused he is on something once he starts it, the way he is able to make one of the biggest downers in the world go to bed smiling, the way he lights up the room the moment he enters it, the way he is so passionate about skateboarding, the way he respects his own family, the size of his heart, and how his smile warmed my heart. At first, I was fearsome of it happening, but I finally accepted that I was indeed in love with him.

And on birthday, he came out with it too. He loved me. I was loved by him. I did not have to question it, because he has proved it every single day since then. He is always by my side and willingly going out and doing things for me whenever I need something. He has emotionally supported me through the worst of my panic attacks and events in my life. He has been one of my few motivations when I ponder if I should keep going with life. Whenever we argue, we always find a way to pull out of it in a mature way. He has proven to me that he has eyes for me and only me, so fear of him being disloyal is never an issue for me. I could list every thing he has done for me, but I could go for paragraphs.

He is everything I have been looking for for years. He is what has been my rock through all the crap life has thrown at me, and he is the reason why I view myself in a bit more of a positive light. I could not imagine my life if I had never met him.

For that reason, I promised myself to protect him and be by his side through through it all. I want to be there to emotionally support him and help him see himself through my eyes. I want to be by his side no matter what happens and help him get through the toughest of times. I want him to know just how precious he is to me, and how he is loved by everyone even if he can’t see it.

I love you baby, happy half-anniversary.

My Thoughts Day 1: My Anxiety is Slowly Killing Me

What is anxiety?

Anxiety is not just simply the feeling of being anxious, nor is it just the feeling you get when you have a math test later on, or when you are about to speak in front of a group of people. Anxiety is a mental illness, much like depression. It is a disorder in which you excessively feel uneasy and worry over current and future events. When you have anxiety disorder, your typical response to most conflicts is to overthink obsessively and worry yourself sick. When everything becomes overwhelming, it can result in a panic attack, or in some cases something close to a panic attack. What makes anxiety disorder distinctive from that feeling of being anxious is both the response to it, and the fact that when you have anxiety disorder you obsess over whatever you are worried about, whether it is a big conflict or something trivial.

Another difference? You cannot control anxiety disorder. No matter how much you want to, or how much you try to control your thoughts, you just can’t. It’s like telling someone with bipolar disorder to control their mood swings, or telling someone with ADHD to learn to control themselves; it’s just not possible.

Some people do, however, disagree with this. They will say that anxiety is not a disorder, but rather people upsetting themselves over little things. Everyone has problems, but are able to get over it. People who claim to have anxiety disorder are just people crying for attention because they don’t know how to handle their problems.

I have an example from the past of dealing with people with this ignorant mindset:

Early August 2015. Warm summer day. Canal Street, NYC

I am with my ex-boyfriend and his mom, giving their friends a tour of Manhattan. We have been walking around with no break all day. We went from walking the Coney Island boardwalk, to the Staten Island Ferry and back, to walking from South Ferry to Tribeca. They were hoping to walk Chinatown and Times Square next, but my feet were tired and I had work the next day. They were walking in an extremely fast pace as well so that did not help my aching feet. The sun was also ready to set, and I hated travelling on the subway alone at night. One would think that after keeping me out on my feet all day, my ex would have had the decency to take me home or make sure I get home safe in some way. Oh no, he was going to send me off alone because, despite making me go around Brooklyn and Manhattan with his friends, he decided he couldn’t part ways with them for just a little bit just so that he could ensure I made it home okay. Not to mention that he thought all that travelling and walking we did was not too much, and his mother seemed to agree with this poor treatment toward me.
So here is what I thought:
Wow, my safety is not important to him or his mother.
Are you fucking kidding me?
How do they not see that they are wrong?
I feel like I walked all over New York City. All five boroughs.
He really doesn’t care about me, does he?
He seems more invested in his friends despite me taking time out my day to travel around all day, and visit tourist spots of a city I have lived in all my life with people I don’t even know. While we were on the ferry and at the 9/11 memorial he barely even paid me any mind. What I am doing for him doesn’t mean anything, huh?

These thoughts didn’t just cross my mind just once, nor did they leave when I tried to argue with him and he just wasn’t getting it throughout the day. Neither was his mother. In fact, she was encouraging his behavior toward me on letting me leave alone. I felt so overwhelmed, and all those horrendous thoughts I listed above kept replaying in my head like a broken record. My heartbeat kept increasing rapidly, and I felt like the sun was suddenly beating directly on me. I tried, however, to ignore it.
Then we went from Chambers to Canal street to get to Chinatown. On the way there is where it happened. Where I argued heavily with his mother as my heart felt like it was going to rip out my chest from beating too hard and where I felt like I was drowning in sweat. Still eager to prove my point, I kept on going until he lost his patience with me and threw something then walked away.
Then, the flashbacks played in my head. The flashbacks of growing up witnessing my father do the very same thing when he lost his temper quickly. Him lashing out on my family and I so easily, along with his habit of throwing and breaking things when he lost control, caused me to become frightened whenever someone lashes out on me or starts throwing things around out of anger.
That is exactly what happened. Except I did not just cower away from the scene in fear. I began shaking and tears began falling down my face. He had stormed away, but his mom noticed, and questioned why I was crying. My mind had eventually blanked out, and I only remember the following events in bits and pieces. I remember leanung against a rough brick wall because I could not even figure how to stand up anymore. I remember sobbing so loud I felt everyone around me was staring at me. I remember feeling like I was having a heart attack because the pounding of my heartbeat was so hard it was causing me immense pain. I rememeber it suddenly felt like breathing was too difficult to do and each inhale and exhale became stronger and stronger. There was sweat dripping from my forehead and palms, and the temperature felt like it increased to two hundred degrees. I recall the images of my ex in front of me with his mom and all my other surroundings flipping on and off as I attemped to pay attention to my surroundings like that bullshit Facebook post advises to do to ease out of a panic attack. I remember trying to push out words, but my heavy breathing made it impossible to talk. As I slowly began to come back to my own self, I had to resist the urge to both punch my ex in the face, and to jump in front of traffic in the nearby street.

Saying that I wanted to punch him may sound cruel, but my anxious mindset had automatically turned to inflicting violence on anyone who got even the least bit loud with me. I did not punch him, as I slowly began to regain control again, but who could blame me when he was urging me to answer him, and getting visibly angry with me that I did not when he saw how I was gasping for air?

Even if this was over a year ago, I do recall him saying these words:

“What do you have to be so anxious about? You need to chill.”

I also recall his mom saying this:

“You are too young to be getting upset like that.”

While it upset me, I should not have even been surprised. I kept wondering why someone so close to me that I have been there for could even think something so ignorant and have the nerve to speak so negatively against me for having this right in front of my face. I also wonder why someone who is a grown adult and a mother could honestly believe young people can’t have problems or be allowed to get upset over things. Then I remember that some people are just so closed-minded that they do not understand, or make an attempt to understand, something that does not affect them. It is like when someone tells another person with clinic depression to just get over it and go out more; some people have ignorant beliefs about certain things they don’t know personally about.

When it comes to people who are ignorant about mental illnesses, I keep them at a distance. If they cannot shut up about their ignorant beliefs, I drop them like a boom. As I wrote in a previous post, “Special Snowflakes Versus the World,” everyone is entitled to their own opinion. As long as you do not shove that opinion down my throat, I will respect you whether or not I agree with it. I have had many friends who are closed-minded about my mental illnesses, and while their views on it irk me, I leave them alone about it as long as they do not judge me about it. I also have vowed to myself never to date someone who says nasty things in response to my anxiety again, and is anything but helpful when I imevitably have a panic attack.

I have a lot of supportive friends and a boyfriend who is understanding of anxiety and very patient when it comes to panic attacks. They subsided over the past year, as I started seeing a therapist shortly after that incident with my ex, and I started back on medication last October. The worst panic attacks I had were when I underwent a lot of stress during my last semester of college, and when I was in my uncles car back in February to say goodbye to my grandma when it was time for her to be buried. While I had my medication and methods of coping with anxiety, such as writing and painting, it was still hard sometimes to ignore anxiety. Anxiety may be incurable, and you just have to learn to live with it, but lately it has gotten worse. My last dose of medication is gone, life finds a way to slap me in the face with a load of crap at one time, and my depression has found a way to kick me in the ass in such a way that my interest in anything I was passionate about to help calm my anxiety is gone. The fact that I have been able to keep my attention on this post for so long in one day amazes me.

What is it that I am so anxious about, as my ex had once so delightfully asked? Well, to close this post, I present to you an anxious thought train of mine. This final piece of my post derives from a time where my anxiety takes over, which can either happen due to a certain event, someone seriously upsetting me, or just when I am alone at night trying to sleep and the thoughts find their way in. The following thought train is an example of the last one.

A thought train:

*I am a disgrace. I don’t deserve to be happy, why do I ever think I will be? I want to apply to NYU, but what makes me think I will ever get in? If I don’t then I am a letdown to my family who wants me to better myself for the future but I just can’t do it. I have a great scholarship oppritunity to help get me into NYU but I can’t seem to get anyone to help me with recommendations and the application deadline is Tuesday. Crazy how I always help people and they never help me. But maybe that is the reason why. Maybe I don’t deserve any help. When you help people it should be selfless, and yet here I am expecting people to drop what they are doing to write something for me about how great I am. I am not gonna finish thay application in time. Maybe I did not know about that damn scholarship until yesterday, but maybe I would have if my lazy ass had started looking for scholarships sooner. I am a disappointment to my mom, my sister, and everyone I care about.

I turn 21 in eleven days. 21 and all I have is an Associates’ degree and no clue with what I want to do with myself. My phone battery is at thirty six percent. I want to continue with this post and post it today. I know I said that the purpose of this was to prove the significance of freewriting but I want it to be perfectly written. Who am I kidding though? I am not the best writer, no matter how hard I try. I know I am good, but there are so many good writers out there, so what makes me think that I am so special? I am mediocre compared to most, so I probably won’t make it out there. I don’t want to be famous, but I do want my writing to speak out to some. But how can it when all I do is write rants and personal experiences on this blog once in a blue? I am 20 years old with no plan, no future, and no idea of how I’m gonna pursue what I want to do. My life is a mess. Should I even say more?

Ah yes. I need glasses. I can barely see what I am typing because my reading glasses got crushed in my bag. But I can’t afford new ones. I can, but then I have no money saved. Money seems to be one thing I am anxious about. It shouldn’t be, but it is because I need stuff and because I am one of the worst savers in history. I need so many things. I want to save money for my birthday too…oh what does it matter? No one else seems to care much for it. People want to make requests on what I should do but no one cares to try and help out but me, my boyfriend, and my mom. My sister would probably help if she could. That is beside the point though. The last time anyone even did anything for me was my close friends taking me to a buffet years ago, and a friend of mine that took me out to a chocolate resturant two years ago. Oh wow, look at how ungrateful I am. I complain so much but now that I think about it people do care about my birthday. My best friend came with my family to a resturant last year and got me a giant teddy bear. Here I have the nerve to complain no one cares or tries. Its no wonder I feel selfish; I am very selfish. I do help people, some of which don’t help back, but I have close friends who care. I have a mom thay cares, a sister that cares, a boyfriend that cares, friends that care. I should be happy with that, but Im not. All I ever do is complain to people and then get angry at them for the littlest things, just like my exes said. I would not be surprised if one day, everyone I know and love just left me because I am pathetic in every sense and complain about everything. I know it annoys me, which is why sometimes I want to do whatever I can to make it all go away. No, those kind of thoughts are selfish too. You see Lisa, you are so annoying and selfish. So selfish. Just shut the fuck up already.*

Most of those thoughts may seem ridiculous, and I am sure anyone who cares about me that will read this will want to slap me for thinking such insolence, but that is anxiety and what it does to the brain. It is like my normal self leaves my body and is replaced by some overly obsessive worrier that repeats the same negativity over and over and lists everything wrong with my life, even if nothing is wrong, and causes me to see nothing but negative outcomes in everything. That whole thought train was my anxiety speaking, and what I deal with on a daily basis. I wish it would go away, but it wins every battle and takes over my head too often. It keeps me up at night, it causes me to need reassurance from others constantly that everything is okay and they don’t hate me, and it causes me to have those panic attacks that seem to go on forever when I am too overwhelmed by everything.

Now tell me anxiety disorder is made up and can be easily controlled.

 

 

My Thoughts…(Announcement)

One issue I have noticed when it comes to writers, is that we focus so much in creating something perfect. While editing and revising is indeed necessary, sometimes even in the writing process, so much attention is focused on being perfect that the final product does not come out as great as it could have been. When I write creatively, I do outline, but I also release my thoughts freely and worry about editing and cutting things out or adding things in later. I find that the best thoughts and stories come out when you stop being so anxious about what you are writing from your mind freely and not worrying about perfection every moment you write.
That being said, I will be working on a mini series called “My Thoughts” where I share experiences to prove a point, and to further prove the point I will add a section that is unedited and unrevised, as it just directly will come from my mind. This shall make more sense when the series is released, and it will be released tomorrow, 10/21, through Thursday, 10/27. My first post deals with anxiety, my experiences with having it, and a look into what a thought train is like for someone with an anxiety
For those interested, please look out for a link to the first post on WordPress tomorrow which I will post tomorrow, and to follow the rest of my series and my other blog posts, like my Facebook page, Lisa Speaks Out
For the time being, you can check out my latest post ranting about Donald Trump.