I can’t be Me…

I’m trapped.

   
I’ve given up on writing.

I’ve given up on even feeling.

I have to wear a mask everyday. Not by choice.

It’s what is necessary to my daughters mental health and well being.

People consider it me being strong and are proud of me for controlling my demons…

This is not control.

This- this is Purgatory.




I’m never going to wash the filth off, cleanse away the bad.

It’s a part of me.

Always has been, Always will be.

I can’t show the world my pain like I had before.

My deepest desires to mutilate and see blood dripping from my face.

They see me as an unfit mother.

CPS was called once already because of my blog.

So now I bottle my pain and stuff it deeper each day.

Because I know I cannot show the world to help the adults/teens and keep my status as a sane mother and caregiver to our little girl.

I am the only one who can take care of Keira.

Matthew tries but even he admits she can’t have a successful life without me.

Go back to “But What About Me?”  It started there.

There’s no other way of putting it but to say I am gone.

I am mourning the loss of myself.

Cutting and self sabotage has been a part of me since I was a kid just slightly older than Keira.

I’m certain she will have these battles throughout her life but if I don’t allow her to see that it is what her mommy does, than I am sure she has a lot less of a chance at creating these outlets which are by no means healthy,

But are exactly that. Outlets.

A release from the pain.

People troll the Internet to find a weak spot on me and fuck up the life this little family has.

If I show me, at my weakest, and one of those persons decides to call Child Protective Services again, they will have most certainly condemned Keira to a life of pain and failure.

I Am The One. 

The one to care for her. Show her when the time is right, the horrors of battling your own mind. 

So that she may seek comfort in knowing; she may certainly be the only one (out of millions for that matter) who hallucinates at her age.

This, I cannot tell her we have in common.

But the brutal inner battle  between good and evil, I do understand. 

And she will seek solace in knowing her mother has battled that (and still does) her whole life.

Stay Strong.

Scarlet My Dear Old Friend… We Meet Again.

Disconcerting. 

  
This image may appear that way to those who do not yet fully understand me.

I gave in. 
I had to see the trails of red pour against my decrepit face.

It’s truly magnificent. 
I see my inner beauty through my eyes when I look at my reflection after mutilating.

I can assure you, I speak in the most sound mind right now.

Why am I choosing to expose this to you all?

I need to. 

I need to show the world for those who cannot yet do so.

For those who fear judgement from their family, and those who care about them most.
When all they’ve ever wanted is to be accepted, loved, and nurtured for who they really are.

I have no shame anymore.

Take it or leave it, this is me.

It does not contradict how I take care of others.

I punish myself and myself alone.

I can now go about my day functioning with a semi wise mind.

But what hurts me the most, is this..

How much longer do I hide the truth (of how I got hurt) to my sweet little girl?

The time is coming near for that conversation, but I have a strong feeling that she already knows the answer.

Stay Strong.

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.