Please Don’t Shut The World Out Again

I don’t know if this will help, and quite honestly I’m frightened to vlog, as the last one I did propelled someone to call CPS {everything is closed, no foundings were made- but it was extremely stressful and traumatic to go through}

My sweet husband is doing the only thing he knows to protect himself. And that is to shut his emotions off.
Perhaps this Vlog can help others in my situation, or their spouses see that it is never intentional, (hurting them emotionally) but the first step is to hold oneself accountable for those actions.
Only then, I truly believe that a person can begin to alter their emotional expression towards a loved one. 

I will always have selfish tendencies, as I am the only one who truly knows the abandonment I feel within my own mind. But I am here to cry out to the world, that I am here…

I promised him I would protect him. To never let him go back. And I feel I’m slowly failing.
My heart is with you Bear.

Take care everyone, and Stay Strong.

Beautiful Baby Girl, I’m So Sorry. {A Mothers Apology}

I’ve hurt Keira today.

My own conflicts with my mother from childhood are manifesting into our current reality.

And I hate myself for how I treat her.

If you haven’t read my post ‘But What About Me?’- I explained the plethora of diagnoses Keira has been given since the age of 3.

Developmental Delays

Speech Delays,

Social Emotional Regulation.

She is a borderline, we are certain of it. Knowing that has allowed us to validate the abandoned child within.

When Keira feels she is most alone, even though we are always present and near.

Her tendencies to act out above and beyond the standard curtain call if you will, is unreivalled by any other child I’ve ever known.

I am remembering more and more what type of child I was.

I had a vivacious tenacity to show everyone how talented I could be.

Any time there was a video camera around, I was front and center.

Along with that however, came a lack of validation.

I believe I had acknowledgement to things I was doing at the moment. But emotional validation? Where was that?

I am not posting about my childhood.

But I am posting that my childhood has severely affected how I parent Keira today.

She threw a tantrum today. Standard fit because she didnt get something right away.

I use a tactic of ignoring but validating her emotions at the same time.

”Keira, it must be frustrating feeling that way, but you cannot act like this, hold yourself accountable for your actions, and then we can speak together about your feelings…”

I’ve been making extreme progress the last two weeks with our daughter.

Today, I slaughtered that progress simply because I wasnt regulating my emotional state of mind.

I CHOSE to retaliate and attack.

Belittle,

Say hurtful things.

Taunt her.

What kind of a mother am I?

Who does that to their child?

After she finally came out (much cohersing) of her room, I asked her to watch the video from the day her father and I got married.

It was one of the happiest days of her life as well..

I kissed her forehead gently.

Told her many times how beautiful she is and was that day.

Validation for Keira is everything to her in her world.

Once it was over, we were both crying.

My daughters eyes were red and swollen. She had a pain within which I can only read.

She loves me. She only ever wants to love me and make me proud.

I humiliated her and broke her heart.

She told me I was tearing her apart.

Multiple times she said this in a state of hysteria, yet I continued to say things like ‘spoiled brat’ and ‘drama queen.’

My mother has left some massive scars from my childhood.

She never held me like I do Keira.

She was never affectionate.

A hug to her still to this day, is a light hearted tap on the back.

I’ve never told her this, but I loathe that hug.

I allowed the inner child who so strongly despises her mother but desperately needs her affection to take control of my abilities to be a mother.

Keira and I held one another and cried.

I apologized profuselfy and told her I was never loved this way so I’m still learning  how to lover her the way she wants me to.

Accountability.

On both our parts.

My daughter is wiser beyond her  years emotionally.

And  we just did social/emotional regulation all on her own…

She has no clue she is using DBT, she’s already starting learning she wants to be happy.

She doesn’t want to suffer..

Never take your childrens time for granted.

You never know when the last time will be that you speak with them.

Hug the ones you love a little tighter today.

Stay Strong.

The Day We Started Over

I wanted to share with the world a very intimate day of my life. Matthew married me after nearly 9 years together. I didn’t realize re marrying would make our relationship any different.
How wrong I had been. 

It is a beautiful memory. 

Take care, and as always, Stay Classy 😉

I’ll Never Forgive You. {Goodbye To A Loved One}

I’ve sheltered my hurt for too long.

There has been an anger within which gradually has been building up to such a degree that I am beginning to attack Matthew emotionally unintentionally.

I’ve also come to the conclusion now that if I do not express to the world how ill of a person you are and how you hurt our family, that I will eventually take that thriving hatred towards you and end up sabotaging my marriage or worse, fucking up my daugher (more than I already have emotionally) by neglecting her or passive aggressively belittling her when in reality, I want to hurt you.

It has been nearly two months since you defiled my child.

Matthew may be angry with me for posting this.

Someone I loved and trusted my entire life decided on May 5th, 2015, that our son wasn’t up to society’s standards.

We left our son in the hands of someone we had never questioned their safety or trust to go get our wedding rings tattooed to our fingers.

This person, related directly to me, took it upon herself to re- circumsize our son at 7 months of age.

Guy Danger was circumsized in the first week after birth.

The evening we brought him home, we had discovered that regardless of applying ointment before heading home, the gauze had fuzed itself to his penis.

After multiple calls to our OB and several attempts to free the gauze by means of warm compresses or more ointment, the only option was for Matthew to pull it free.

We were reassured he would be fine, but the image after has haunted me.

Our little boy crying hard, tears welling up in Matthew’s eyes as he comforted him; blood dripping down his chest.

It was the hardest thing I had ever experienced as a parent hands down.

Until May 5th that is…

I’ve tried to replay that day countless times, attempting to find a wormhole that would allow me to change history as we know it.

But we all know damn well that isn’t possible.

Rather than describe everything in solid detail from that day, (like the happy part where we watched each other place the last rings we’d ever wear on) I will jump to when Matthew and I went to pick up Guy.

My relative mentioned had been holding Guy. When I asked if I needed to change his diaper, she replied,

“No, but I will send you home with Vaseline for his penis.”

Confused by what she had stated, I naturally opened his diaper to see what was wrong.

I was shocked at what I had seen next.

His penis was severely swollen.

I reacted immediately telling Matthew that Guy had an infection and we needed to go to the doctor immediately.

The relative replied with a very calm and eerie demeanor,

“He does not have an infection. I fixed his penis.”

Even now as I am typing this out, my face is forming into the exact expression it had as those words seeped from her mouth.

Complete and utter hysteria was engrossing my mind.

And yet I stayed calm with my response.

So calm, I have questioned myself still to this day.

My heart was racing faster than I’d ever felt it beat before.

There was an overwhelming urge to hurt her.

But I just married Matthew…

We just admitted to everyone we knew how mentally ill I really was.

Call it a state of shock or an act of humility, but I told her very shortly and with a very calm voice,

” I would appreciate it if you would speak to me before doing something like that again.”

At that point, she proceeded to get up and walk away.

Meanwhile, Matthew and I started gathering Guy’s belongings to head home.

Her three children were in the kitchen and she was making them a snack.

As I was heading out the door, she was cutting apple slices.

Her head hanging downward and arms locked at an angle against her counter, she yelled at the two of us.

“I would never intentionally hurt your child.”

I explained to her that I never implied she would.

Her final statement is what drives my blood to boil even at this moment. It has been the impellent force which has thrusted me to attack Matthew and Keira unintentionally.

“He was deformed and nobody would love him.”

With tears streaming down her face and her children completely confused as to  why their mother was so distraught, we exited her home.

It is the last image I will ever have of my sisters face ever again.

The rest of the story since then is pretty well capable of summing up in a few paragraphs.

CPS was called anonymosly most likely by the M.D. who had examined Guys penis the next day.

The doctor had stated that slightly fused skin like that typically corrects itself.

He clarified against her reasoning (one of her sons had fusion in the first two weeks of life) that it didn’t negate correction should remotely be attempted like that at 7 months of age.

We knew our sons circumsicion had not healed to a text book standard.

It was indeed, slightly fused to the top his head.

Neither of us, after seeing how much blood was on Matthew’s chest the day we had to free the gauze, could follow through with pulling down to keep the skin from fusing on a daily basis.

But my sister decided he was deformed.

She honestly thought she was doing him a favor.

This delusional pre set of thoughts are nothing short of demented and disturbed.

We chose not to press charges for a criminal investigation.

Some of you may be asking why the fuck not?

We didn’t want to hurt the family (as a whole) any more than she had hurt ours.

Even though we hadn’t opened a case, CPS had to send it off as a criminal investigation. It had been forwarded (as of roughly 2 weeks ago) to her local police department.

I’m going to say right now I have no clue if there were any consequences to her unforgivable actions.

She lives in a community that houses higher income families.

She has been in a field in which her career choice allows her to earn up to six figure salaries.

I know in my mind and always have, that she will walk away with a slap on her hand.

But let me ask you all this…

If it were you, and your son asks you when he is a teenager, young man, or grown adult-

‘Mom, why is my penis scarred?’

How will I be able to answer that?

Could you ever forgive a person for such an act?

I will not.

I never wish to see you again.

If nothing came of justice, then I certainly say, this is punishment enough.

Punishment in exposing to the world of how truly superficial and monstrous you can be on the inside.

My heart goes to the loss of my brother-in-laws relationship as well as the relationships with my nephews and nieces.

I can move forward now knowing I can’t hurt Matthew anymore. Because I figured out the trigger and have now eliminated it with this last sentence.

Be true to who you are. Never hide even the most irate thoughts, especially from medical professionals.

Those thoughts could be the make or break to your own life, or the life of someone else.

Take care,

Care Crisis Hotline

866-4CRISIS

Making Love Is Bullshit. Sex Is Just SEX.

Now that I have your attention, I would like to elaborate on why I titled this blog post specifically that way.

I love sex.

I live for sex.

It is by no means a shameful thing for a woman (nor a man) to have confidence sexually and openly speak of it.

But what is SEX?

Sexual Intercourse, or Sexual Acts, are actions performed with another person for sexual pleasure. {Source via i.word.com and wikepedia.com}

Hmmmm, sounds like a good time to me.

So why has the world deemed sex to be such a private act which requires love, devotion, and emotional connection? Why is it that Americans especially, demand to be in a monogamus life which constricts their abilities to be open to others?

Hence, the term Love Making.

Now I wish to elaborate on WHY I think this is bullshit. Having one partner in a marriage or committment emotionally is a great thing to strive for in life.

Let me be clear, I have nothing against those who choose to be monogamus. My husband and I believe that together.

But when you go to the core of sex, what really are we doing it for?

Reproduction and Pleasure.

The act of mating or essence of physical pleasure.

Reference to The Bloodhound Gangs song ‘The Bad Touch’.

Its  has downright dirty and appaling lyrics..

But I can bet your ass that you’ve pondered having dirty mindless sex (if you don’t do it already) at least once in your life.

There is NOTHING wrong with that.

Masturbation is a release.

Why does one masturbate? There is no massive explanation, or reasons to shame another for doing so… its simple dude.

It FEELS good.

Endorphines are released during sexual pleasure.

Someone like myself, who battles a rather intense mental illness, relies on sexual release, be it with another person, or at the assitance of my own hands.

Sex releases frustration. Emotions which are suppressed on a daily basis from ourselves, our loved ones, friends, and to blend in with society.

If you can pause for just a moment and reflect on your life, I am certain you know at least ONE person who lives a double life.

Whether you’re a six figure well polished person who gambles at night without their wife or husband knowing, or if you’re an average 9-5 joe who lives like a high roller on the weekends just because….

We as people unfortunately CHOOSE to live double lives because we are afraid that people will not accept us for who we truly want to be.

I do not judge anyone for that type of life….

You know why?

Because I’ve lived a secret double life all these years on this planet thus far.

Up until just last month.

Matthew and I have shown the world who I truly am, all personalities and qualities, GOOD or BAD.

I made the plunge to show family and friends.

Many we’ve lost or they’ve gone rogue.

I do not blame them.

I am by no means an easy plate to carry.

But after the initial shock of rejection, Matthew and I felt an essence of freedom which has never been experienced.

Freedom from oneself.

I understand the main meat to this blog is why sex is just sex and not ”Love Making.”

I say that because if we pour emotion into an act that is stritcly for reproduction and pleasure purposes, then WHY or HOW could it possibly be pleasurable if we kill it by expecting the partner to handle our emotional loads along with theirs…

#Perspective

Stay Classy. And GET SOME

(HIS SIDE) The Learning Curve

I am beginning to understand why i had shut my emotions off. 

  As we move forward the flood of emotions is starting to level off,and i realize that i may not be as prepared as i thought. Ashleys BPD makes her do selfish hurtful things sometimes this is not her fault. Now I knew this or at least I thought knew this and therefore it would not bother me. When i had the emotions of a tree stump this was not a problem but now that everything is turned back on it is bugging me more than anticipated. This brings up conflict inside of me,  I love Ashley and do not want to get mad at her for something she has no control over yet. I have a need to protect myself and the only way I know to do this is by shutting down again but i refuse to have this as an option. The only other thing I can think to do is ride it out till my feelings become a little more calloused and hopefully find a happy medium, I don’t know what I am going to do. I am going to finish my day at work and think on it some more I will keep you posted on whatever i decide to do.

I Don’t Know How To Not Be Selfish…

I’ve done it again. 

  

I’ve hurt Matthew. 
I have been so consumed by myself and then my daughters emotional state of mind that I am once again, forgetting who the real victims are…
Our loved ones.
My husband shut his emotions off years ago because he realized him having feelings was an emotinal trigger for me.
I regret his decision to this day.
We got married May 4th 2015. 
That day, we decided after nearly 10 years together, to start over.

We’ve made it only one month and I’ve given up. 
He’s right. 
I was caving tonight.
No matter how many fucking times I acknowledged I was going me, me, ME… I still went back to just that.
How do you learn to be selfless when your entire life had been a center stage show? 
Matthew deserves better. 
He speaks of my fear that he will always leave me, well I actually confess that I frequently consider leaving the family myself.
Not because of him, but because I truly see that he could have an opportunity to be with another person – some day – who could give him the things to which I cannot.
Stability. 
Emotional solace.
A reciprocation of selflessness.
Do I believe we were meant to save one another? Yes I do. But I don’t know exactly how I am suppose to save him.
Life has the most unexpected ways of unfurling.
This is not a pre meditated choice to “throw in the towel” if you will.
It is a thought to which I’ve no intentions on acting upon.
However, I will always see that no matter how desperately I am attempting to place attention to his emotions, I will always undoubtedly fuck it up by circling back to something that is wrong about me.
This post was intended to speak about the people who love us most and what really happens when they are in the crossfire. 
Go figure I’d go narcissist and turn this blog post into a pity party.
See the acknowledgement?
Accountability.
I’d like to tell you what I’ve been versing to my daughter today during her episodes.
Keira, we must hold ourselves accountable for every action in life, good or bad.
How we handle that accountability determines what type of person we want to be.
Refusing to accept something you decided to do is a text book definition of a coward.
Cowards do not improve.
Cowards choose to give up. 
To give in.
My daughter had tried to give up too many times. So much, that I was saying the same Goddamn thing my husband said to me tonight…
“Must be nice to have a free pass.”
I wanted to deck him when I heard that come from his mouth.
Please let me clarify, it wasn’t because of the fact that he was mocking me. On the contrary, it was because that is exactly what I wanted to tell our daughter.
She gives up, I get to give up.
Pretty fucking childish and petty outlook for parenting skills, but it makes sense to me.
So track back to Matthew.

 I am not angry with him. He needs validation emotionally just as much as I do, IF NOT MORE. 
But when I have tunnel vision, there is no stopping the pity train. 
It blows full steam ahead.
He let me cry on him tonight.
I cried harder than I’ve cried in years.
But it always turned back onto me.
Mentally ill people can be selfish inconsiderate assholes.
I’m sure fellow mentally ill people reading this are getting triggered or offended.
I still get pissed when people say I do things for attention, or boo hoo it’s all about you.
People are telling me the truth, just like my husband had been telling me all these years.
To find a proper balance where your loved ones can feel nurtured and then not have to “walk on eggshells” like so many of us hear or feel, –THAT- is the ultimate achievement in my eyes.
I’m hoping DBT will help with this. I swear to you I’ve been attempting mindfulness and social emotional regulation. 
I won’t apply it until I administer my coping plan. Perhaps it’s time to do as I say not as I do- but apply that philosophy right back at myself.
I love my husband.
He is a warrior.
I call him Bear.
It is a nickname I’ve used seldomly in the last decade but is used in times of dire distress.
My husband is Native American. 
He belongs to a clan in Canada which his lineage do not have rights to. 
Similar to other tribes, if you are not active in the clan, you do not have tribal rights. 
I’ve never understood why a man who is 1/4 Cowechan would so easily give up on fighting for that heritage.
But you see, his Grammy is the Princess of the clan, and she has fought alongside her brother for years only to be denied that which is rightfully theirs.
I see now that Matthew does not need his Clan to validate the type of warrior he is.
Like a bear he is strong. 

Multiple tribes respect the bear for many reasons. 
It represents courage, strength, protection, and also provides the means to nourish the tribe by sacrifice.

I’ve only ever seen Matthew as my bear.
And even though our children will not have rights, we will let them know that they can still be proud of who they are, they just don’t need the label to prove to the world how incredible they can be.
My heart has calmed.
Speaking highly of Matthew raises my spirits.
Hope is rekindled.
Tomorrow is another day.
Mornings are my most treasured part of a day. 
You know why?
I haven’t allowed my mind to fuck up how I feel. And every day starts out with me happy. 
Be true to you. 
Stay Classy.

But What About Me?

I’m screaming inside…..

  

The adrenaline and anxiety within my chest are a chemical reaction which are bound to create monumental disaster.
It’s been building. As you could see based on my selfish phase rant yesterday, I am now in full blown survival mode.
I will not go to the gym tonight, but I desperately need to lift.
My daughter is mentally ill. Matthew and I are convinced she is also a Bordeline. 
See, most of you do not know that our daughter has been in and out of specialists since she was 2 years old and we had noticed devlopmental delays with her.
Our daughter, firstly, was born very ill. Unbeknownst to the two of us, I was not a carrier of anti bodies for HSV type 1- the common cold sore.
Given that lack of knowledge and not administering antibiotics prior to inducing labor allowed this virus to attack my unborn child’s brain.
Vaginal birth increases the death rate for newborns born with HSV. 
Matthew spent the first few days of her life struggling to take care of me (I was extremely ill with the virus attacking me as well) and running to the other side of Norhwest Hospital to Keira in the NICU. 
She was on 13 leads. I haven’t remembered much as it was traumatic and blocked it out.

She was transferred to Seattle Childrens hospital once Northwest decided it was out of their hands and they were losing her. 
To prolong time, they placed her into a medically induced coma, which Matthew signed off for along with a complete blood transfusion.
Getting sick to your stomach yet? Let me continue..
Keira almost died. She was on anything and everything to keep her alive. Breathing was at over 60% assistance during her coma and was on dopamine and morphine to suppress squirming pain even in her deep sleep.
My doctor. Dr. James Allen Joki – is nothing short of an American hero. 

I do not acknowledge him for his contributions to NASA back in 1968-69 where he helped design a proper suit for Astronauts to go into space with like most Americans do (Houston, we have a problem.. James Joki was 1/13 people on a team to fix that problem) I acknowledge this man for being a hero and saving our daughters life. He figured out it was cold sores. He ran up to children’s hospital on his own time to tell them in person that they needed to treat Keira for herpes.
He is a hero not just in American history. But in my lineage. Because you see, come September 9th, 2015 will be 29 years since he saved my life.

Yes, he delivered me. My umbel local cord strangled me and my mother gave birth to a still born. He resuscitated me. He is nothing short of incredible. 
James Joki delivered a total of 4/6 of my mothers girls and has also helped deliver 7/10 grandchildren in my parents line.
People such as James A. Joki are not honored nearly as much as I feel they should be in society. Selflessness is a quality few can possess their entire lives. But because of this mans selflessness, he saved our daughters life.
I realize I went off the beaten path by writing about him, but as I said, I always write in the moment and it all pertains to the whole picture.
Keira has damage to her brain from severe viral trauma. We’ve attempted to have CT and MRI’s to see specifically what part of the brain was assaulted. Children’s Hospital denied us a scan at the age of 3. Their reasoning, it would be inconclusive data as to if it were caused by a seizure or the HSV.
We would have known. That was the first time the medical industry let us down…

Since then, we’ve had no less than ten different diagnoses for Keira including, but not limited to:

-Receptive/expressive speech delays

-Oppositional Defiance Disorder

-Disruptive Behavior Disorder

-Autism Spectrum Classification 

-Possible Aspbergers Syndrome

-Sensory Processing Disorder

-Auditory Processing Disorder

-Mood Disorder NOS (not otherwise specified)

-Anxiety Disorder

Puts a lot into light. Now Matthew and I are certain our daughter has Borderline Personaity Disorder just like her mother…
The medical society refuses to throw around such a diagnoses for children so young, as it is a very serious diagnoses and most people do not show traits of BPD until late teen/ early adulthood.
The day we gave up on help from the medical world for Keira, was the day after I had finally broken down and placed her into Seattle Childrens Hospital Psychiatric Unit. 
I waited for 18 hours through mental health evaluations the day prior. Keira was slipping into a psychosis I’d never seen before. I am certain it was triggered by a hormone surge due to pre pubescent body functions.
Because she was positive for a cough RSV rotavirus, she was placed in isolation within the psych unit. 

The morning she went up to the unit, was the day I first heard my child say she hated me. Not as direct as you would imagine. It was worse.
As she tucked herself into her bed, she looked up from her book she had been reading and said very quietly,

“I’m happy now, you can just leave now Mom…”

My heart sank into my butt. She didn’t want me there. What was more frightening is she felt safe. More safe than she had ever felt in our home. I’m not speaking of physical harm, listen to my words…

My child was screaming. She was always screaming. 
But we never listened… Just like my parents never listened to me.

I deserved that smack across my face with that simple sentence. 

She did not want me to come back and actually requested one of my sisters to stay the night with her. How would you feel as a parent.

What about me? No time to coddle my inner child so on I went.
The following day during our family meeting which was suppose to kick off a 5 day stay in the unit, was nothing short of appalling.

The psychologist and psych on the team decide their diagnoses was that Keira was a misguided child and we would benefit from parent management training classes.

Medical diagnoses- spoiled brat and we are fucking failures as parents.

And I will end this rant about Childrens psych unit by quoting what the psychologist had said as their reasoning…

“We can’t force you to leave. You’re already approved through insurance for the week, but really, you should just discharge today..”

Matthew and I had looked at one another silently mortified, and I said in response,

“She just started feeling safe here, what sort of message would we be sending her by pulling her out after telling her she was in a place to be herself?”

The psychologist smiled with a passive aggressive fire and stated,

“Little parent syndrome. Guess what it comes down to, you’re the adults and she’s 7… That’s all.”

We walked out of that unit without even signing a spec of paperwork. The receptionist was in utter shock that we were doing that, however we were told there was no papers.

I’ve been Inpatient twice in my life. It is a fucking pain in the ass to discharge. What sort of psych unit allows you to walk off so non chalantly?

I’ve left out many years details in between but that the was final time the medical industry would ever let us down.

We are alone for Keira. It is up to me to take care of her mind.

The person who decided to call CPS against me for mutilating my face, probably refuses to see what Matthew and I have done for Keira and she isn’t even through the first decade of life.

My inner child is screaming. She needs to be coddled. Which brings me back to this morning…

Keira had her first major psychosis episode in over a month. She is battling thoughts of self harm, some more obvious others I don’t quite think she understands yet.

Self hate runs deeply within her and partially due to seeing me sabotage myself throughout the years.

She attacked me. Unintentionally, because she feels utterly alone. No different than how I feel when I’m at my worst.

I’ve dedicated my life to helping Keira through these times- placing my emotional well being on the back burner until she is stable once again. She finally came to after nearly 2 hours of anger and frustration only after I apologized with a simple sentence.

“I’m sorry I made you I’ll. I’m so sorry I can’t make it go away.”

We are the same. It will always be me and Keira against the world. Matthew will always be there to help but even he can see now, that I truly am the only person who can remotely get through to her when her mind is so far gone.
So what about me? 
When does that little child within get validation and comfort?
I will always feel abandoned by my mother and father. For being the parent of a child suffering from the same illness you grew up with creates a hatred so deep that it tries to counteract any progress with forgiveness I’ve had throughout the years. 

I’m sorry to my parents for telling the truth. 

But they say.. 

The truth shall set you free.

 

I’m Sorry For Being Me

I’m a selfish douche..
  I speak of others being the victims of mental illness such as our loved ones- caught in the cross fire of our own self pity and agony.
I will always succumb to the pathetic party of boo hoo- you don’t understand.
I’ve always been positive and uplifting on the blog so far so if I truly follow how I feel and do not censor, then I will most likely piss off a number of people today.
Yes I am going to say you have NO IDEA what it’s like to be me.
Yes I am going to emphasize that my life is harder than most people’s fucking lives combined.
Absolutely I will piss people off by saying I’m never going to get better, most likely neither will you.
We are alone.
It’s the final act that replays with no show of curtain call.
I will always be slapping a mask on to live this life. 
Being who I really am, like this PATHETIC self disdain I am presenting to you all today- not only makes people feel uncomfortable, but they stop speaking to me all together.

I’ve unloaded on friends and family for years. Cried on too many shoulders, some of those which decided to turn the other way.
I do not blame them. I abused their relationships for my selfish indulgences.
I do not expect these many people I’ve lost to ever want to come back.
Self hate is an extremely unattractive attribute. It doesn’t matter how sexy I feel, how much I lift at the gym, or how rediculous I fucking act, in the end, I will go down with the entire ship once the tip of the iceberg grazes the side.
I am counteracting most of everything I’ve ever said to anyone out in the world the last few months. But do as I say not as I do right?
I’ll apologize in the end, which most likely won’t sound genuine after this seemingly obvious attack post on myself and everyone.. 

I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. But if you truly feel how I’ve felt, you’ll know that you really aren’t alone.
Be as good to yourself as you can be.

Fight Or Flight

I can’t sleep.

I am in a state of confusion.

As I sit here in bed in the dark next to Matthew with my brow furrowed, I attempt to place my thoughts into a reasonable form for you to understand.

My mind is questioning recent actions.

Matthew and I have a few people following the blog.  I understand its not many to some, but for us, It means more than anyone could possibly understand.

I was going to write about the night I went to the ER after CPS was first called with allegations against me from my Vlogging. (You can find them on my YouTube.) I’ve pulled the Vlogs from the new site, not because I am ashamed of them, but they were adamant triggers attempting to fuck my world up every time I laid eyes on them.

They are still there for a reason. They are there for you.

I can’t dive into that evening yet, I realize this blog post is more about expressing my emotional state of mind currently, rather than trying to revisit that evening. However, I have every intention to write about that entire scenario. Just not yet…

This isn’t something I’ve been intentionally neglecting, I just have a way when I blog, I have to be ” in the moment” if you will. The whole reason Matthew had encouraged me to keep writing initially was because it was HELPING.

As I stated in previous blogs and also some Vlogs, (which I’m not even fucking sure if I can do anymore; the video about another mutilation episode was what made a person allegate against me) I went 27 months without cutting.

From a person who has suffered from self harm her entire life, that was a triumph. I felt like I had finally tamed The Beast.

For those of you who battle BPD, or Bipolar, Anxiety, Depression, etc; I can’t help but ponder if you’ve felt this way. A feat so victorious –

”I’m better, you’ve done good. It was all an act like everyone said and you can stop now…”

Too many times have I said this to myself.

Far too many times through the God for saken years have I let myself down because of this statement.

And as I sit here becoming even more frustrated, I guess instead of beating around the bush, I need to ask you this- whoever you are reading this…

Have you ever even once, legitimately felt like it was an act and how petty it was for you to have done everything as a means for attention?

See, I’m going to counteract that question by telling you what happens EACH TIME after this is said in my stupid ass head…

An episode.

Call it a pre medidated set up for failure… I don’t know. But I’ve been around enough medical professionals and therapy throughout the years that I am pretty fucking sure they would say that.

Hence the mental illness status people.

I suppose I am more than just irriated this morning. I am beginning to loathe myself.

Some of you suffering from BPD or Bipolar cannot yet acknowlege your triggers or see when a sabotage is about to come. Fuck I don’t even know if you even call your lows or episodes a means to “sabotage”.

But I see what’s happening…

I’ve been reaching out with Matthew.

Well, some of you have reached back.

This is exactly what we wanted. To see that our words weren’t falling upon deaf ears. But like always, I find a way to shoot it down with extreme prejudice. Yep, I said that right. Because the angry persona I have who says fuck it all, is creepin up my ass and doing a damn good job of puppeteering. I cannot express enough how much I loathe and seek comfort with that person.

Shutting the world out,having intense animosity, and at the same time fearing being utterly alone is a curious experience indeed. But like the sick sadistic fuck head I am at times, she is one of my best friends.

She is a personality I fear. But she is also a personality that makes me- Me.

I’ll take my leave for the day. I need to hug Matthew and make sure I have gotten all this out. I feel like I will be alright.

You know why? My brow isn’t constipated anymore and I have a smirk on my face.

Stay Classy.