Posted in What is this about?

The Beginning.

Shattered dreams still glitter… Just with teardrops, Rather than Magic

I don’t remember when it started. I just remember the internal fights and mood swings. Throughout my younger years I never thought I would actually grow up. I know. Every kid on the planet thinks that same thing. However, I always thought that I would not survive that far. I had this voice inside that said, “What would it be like when I’m gone?” I would imagine scenarios that always ended with my death. Only mine. Even worse, I would hope for it.

For me the idea of death has always been one of ultimate relief. I’ve even told family, “Don’t be sad if I ever go. I’ll be at peace.” I think they always thought I was talking about religion. No, I wasn’t. I was talking about being free from the burden, which I feel is life.

As I grew up, I realized I had to figure out a plan. I had to live. It wasn’t a choice, it was a requirement given by birth. I had to take care of myself. For a while I tried, but I was met with failure. Again, and again. Often the failure was a consequence of my own decisions. That just compounded, and made that weight on my shoulders worse.

So, this is my story. I’ll share little bits because I know that I FINALLY WANT to live and make better choices. I, also, want others to learn from me. Just because I made these choices or did these actions. Doesn’t mean that you have to. It just gives you the opportunity to see how it turned out for me.

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Grieving the Loss of the Living

Hello Dear Readers,
I admit I’ve not been in the greatest of headspaces the last month. Optimistically, I haven’t had any intrusive thoughts since I left the hospital. I’ve been grieving the loss of a relationship, though, and it has not been an easy ending. At least on my part. He’s fine, or so it seems. For me, however, I took the separation pretty hard. Over the course of the last few weeks, I’ve cycled through the stages of grief (along with different coping mechanisms) like a pinball. Grief is not linear at all for me. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, hit me at different times. Each one has been a thorough introduction. I’ve not had a single drive home where I haven’t cried- until last night, but it hit me on the drive-in to work. I’m trying to work out why it hurts so much, and why I fell so hard in the first place. I was in a good place, and I was ready for a relationship. I wanted something real, stable, and dependable. We were only together for 7 weeks. It would have been longer if he didn’t change his mind.

I truly did fall in love with him. I allowed myself to open up and let him in. It was a conscious choice. I remember every moment like a picture or home movie. I think that is the biggest part I’m struggling with, remembering all the good times and the feelings associated. The swell in my chest when I looked at him still comes when I remember his face, the way he’d smile and raise his eyebrow. I remember watching him get both big tattoos, and the way his arms wrapped around me on (what would be) the last night we saw each other. I don’t know how to forget or turn it off. I can for a moment at work, or out for short amounts of time, but the memories haunt my dreams and the in-between times (just waking up, or just before falling asleep).

I don’t think it’s fair, how he can just move on like that. It is what it is, and I even though I want him to come back… I don’t know if I could. I hold on to these small moments, but I can’t forget the fact he left. Then, the aftermath. The harsh words, and gaslighting. My sister-in-law says I should forget him and move on. That I deserve so much better, and I do. With how much I loved him, though, I’ve already forgiven. I just can’t forget any of it. I’m stuck in this limbo of my brain and my heart. I think I’m finally ready, though. I’ve made myself a promise. On Friday, I will go to the bar (I know alcohol is not a good coping tool) and I will have 1 drink for every week we were together (7 isn’t an unusual number as of late), and I will allow myself to mope. Until I drink enough to forget, from then on, I will force sober me to forget every day after. This is the last week of grief.

Even though I’m the one hurting, he still lost. He walked away from something so pure, genuine, and real. I needed to change my perspective on life, and I did. I am 5 weeks and 2 days without any suicidal thoughts or urges. Even through the loss of him, and how badly it hurt, I’m at least happy to be alive.

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She loved you.

I want to preface this by saying this is a rendition of one of my favorite songs “If You Love Her” by Forest Blakk. He’s an incredible artist, and I love the song. I just changed some of the words to fit what I’m going through.

She gave you her heart
And you broke it.
Your arms were once a place she felt safe in.
She’s the best thing you almost had.

She’s always had trouble
Fallin Asleep.
And she likes to cuddle
While under the sheets.
She loves pop songs and dancing,
And bad trash TV
There’s still a few other things.

She loves love notes and babies
And giving gifts.
Has a hard time accepting
A good compliment
She loves her whole family,
And all of her friends
But YOU were the one she let in.

You took it.
When she gave you her heart.
Then you dropped it.
Your arms were a place she felt safe in.
She was the best thing you almost had.
She loved you
But you couldn’t love her
On days when it felt like the whole world might cave in.
Stood by your side, 
And you lost it.
She’s the best thing you almost had.
She loved you,
But you couldn’t love her back.

You kissed her with passion,
Whenever you met.
Ran your hands through her hair
When she lay on your lap.
When she didn’t notice how pretty she is, 
Though you told her over and over,
I guess you forgot.

When you took it.
She gave you her heart,
And you left it.
Your arms are no longer 
A place she feels safe in.
She was the best thing you could have had.
If only you loved her right back.

If only…
If only…
If only…

You loved her on days when
It felt like the whole world was caving.
Stood by her side, 
You could have made it.
She’s the best thing you’ll never have.
She loved you,
But you couldn’t love her back.

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The Goal of this Page

Hello Dear Readers!

I just wanted to pop on and talk about why I started this page. When I started this page two years ago my goal was to have an outlet for things I need to say and put out into the world. It’s also been a source of processing traumas both from early in life, to current situations. The other goal is to raise awareness of early signs of developing disorders in children. The emotional stagnation of previous generations and the forcing of authoritarian order have led an entire generation to change the way they look at life. This generation is now coming into adult years and has formulated how to improve the lives of those around them.

Part of that formula is noticing when they’re experiencing and helping children process trauma. No one explained things to us when we were children. We were expected to handle life situations and process them on our own. We were called soft, spoiled, and entitled for simply wanting explanations and answers. When we accepted the lack of interaction, we were then called lazy and bums. When we struggled, we were met with scoffs and “pick yourself up.” Our cries and complaints fell on deaf ears. Our solutions are dismissed, and our attempts at being heard get drowned out by older generations who claim we “know nothing.” Yet, we are one of the most educated generations.

I had some things to say and talk about, so I made this blog. You guys have grown this page, and I thank you for that. I hope it can provide insight into how a “Zellenial” views the world and the events behind shaping those views. Listen to your children and explain what is happening in their lives. Use terms a child would understand. By raising our children in healthier environments, than which we grew, we can ensure the best outcome for the future.

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What I never got to say…

Hello, dear readers, in the last few months since my last post I had managed to enter a relationship and he, subsequently, ended things 8 days ago. I did not find out until 6 days ago but, I digress, it left me with things I wanted to say. We all have those moments, I think, but I need to say them.

I wasn’t looking for anything when I met him. In fact, I really didn’t have any plans to continue talking to him after that first meet. He was nice, but I still had my heart set on someone else. Looking back, I wish I had listened to myself. Anyway, we talked for a couple days and I invited him over. We had dinner, he brought flowers, we talked about our lives- family, job, goals, etc.- and I told him I didn’t want just another hookup or any games. I said, “If that’s what you’re looking for, great, but not with me.” The next day, he changed our status on Facebook to “In a relationship”. It was a surprise to me, but I went with it.

Over the next few weeks, we dated, hung out, met families. It was okay, but things started getting rocky around the 6th week. I hurt my hip super bad, to the point I went to the ER. I didn’t tell him, until the end of the visit so I could know what was going on. Well, that week I didn’t really see him. We messaged everyday, but something felt… off. That next weekend, we fought about a TikTok video he made, which I got mad about. We almost broke up that weekend, but we worked things out. Things weren’t the same after that. He said something that weekend that stuck with me for the last two weeks. “I’m focusing on myself and my kids.” I was really struggling that week. I didn’t tell anybody (I never do, until it’s too late) but he went out of town, and I had a day off where I realized no one was expecting to hear from me. No one would check on me for a whole day, and I had a full bottle of strong muscle relaxers. I planned for that to be… my last day. Well I chickened out, once they started to kick in, because they caused me to pretty violently throw up. I knew it was going to happen, I just wasn’t prepared to be that bad, so I called my brother and then my mom (they live an hour away) they both agreed I should go to the hospital. So, I called an Uber and headed over. I didn’t him any of this was happening. I didn’t want to ruin his weekend, if it had worked out the way I had planned he wouldn’t have found out until that Sunday. I would’ve been dead, and the world would move on. He made it so abundantly clear just how easy it would be for him to move on. Well, I got admitted to an inpatient facility (I should have known) and while I was there I got the help I needed and got a new perspective on life. What I didn’t know, was after he talked to my mom… he changed his Facebook back to single. When I got out, that was the first thing I saw, and his first message to me was, “We need to talk in person.” We didn’t talk in person, he was “out of town with friends.” His reasoning was he couldn’t be worrying about me on top of everything else. So, with that here’s my response.

I know how you justified it, but I also worked out the true reason. You had been wanting to break up since our first fight. After that, you had backed out emotionally. You stopped caring. I could feel it. That’s what was so off. I told you how low I get. I told you how dangerous I can be to myself. I warned you about this. I didn’t need you to worry- I needed you to CARE. I’ve come to realize you never truly cared about me. You cared about how I made you look. You cared about the sex. You cared about your ability to brag about it. You cared about how good I made you feel. I made you a priority, but you couldn’t even put me on your list. That was all I was asking, all that I wanted. I wanted you to not want to lose me, as much as I didn’t want to lose you. You asked why I didn’t come to you. I didn’t go to anyone. If I had you what I was thinking about, what my brain was trying to justify. You would have used that, too, as an opening to run. You found an excuse, and you LEFT. You abandoned me when I needed you the most. When I needed just AN OUNCE of compassion, and support. I was hoping for a discussion, and a “We’ll get through this, but next time talk to me. No matter what I’m doing.” I guess that was too much, though. You didn’t even have the balls to say it to my face. You hid behind your friends, Facebook, and text messages, just another excuse to not give me an ounce of respect. I’m willing to bet you couldn’t meet my eyes if you tried. You should feel shame, because the way you ended it was cowardice and immature. Still, I’m the one hurt.

So, now, I work less than a minute away and the bar I go to is just down the street from your dad’s. I’m reminded of you everywhere I go in this town. There is not one place that you haven’t touched, and yet, I still search for you. Every time I see a red Honda, or a motorcycle, my heart drops and my breath catches. Every street in this small town brings fresh pain. I’m coping with sad songs and alcohol (probably not the greatest decision). Congratulations, by the way, you have a few new Taylor Swift song dedications. It doesn’t matter how many times I say I’m over it, or how many drunken nights I dance away. It doesn’t make it feel any better. It will, though, eventually. It will get easier, and I will use the tools I gathered that weekend to become a better, stronger version of myself. The affirmations don’t stop the “what ifs”. They don’t numb the pain of the heartbreak. They don’t stop the memories, or flashbacks. The realization of our last kiss, last hug, etc. Those come out of no where, and leave me aching (again).

What I find the most pathetic part of it all, is you probably don’t even think about me at all. You’ve probably erased me from your mind, just as I have tried to do for you. You’re probably so good at it, too. You’ve probably found another distraction by now. You probably hate me now, and blame me for the end. I want you to see how much you hurt me, I want you to see what damage you caused. It won’t mean anything to a guy like you. So, aside from this post, and a maybe a few TikToks, I won’t allow you to see how much you hurt me. I’m going to keep moving forward, and allow it to get easier. I really did fall for you, I wanted us to make it through; but when one person is half in, when it was that easy for you to walk away. You were never really in it in the first place. If I was of any importance to you, maybe you would have shown it.

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Fearlessly Remastered

Hello Dear Readers!

This post is going to be about the re-recording of Taylor Swift’s old music. So, if you don’t like her then this probably isn’t the post for you, but I hope you’ll keep reading anyway. Maybe take some new insight from it.

So, as has been all over entertainment news, Taylor Swift released the re-recorded version of “Love Story” one of her first biggest hits from her second album Fearless. I am so happy to get these new versions. I have been a fan ever since I heard “Teardrops On My Guitar” on the radio, and have only grown as a fan since. However, as an adult I have had a hard time listening to her old music due to the memories associated with them. I’ve told the story of Chris in “Music” and how music can bring back memories in “Music- Cont.” Those two short posts pretty much explain why I would have a hard time listening to some of Taylor’s old music. Her Fearless album was a birthday gift from my grandma and Tom. I listened to it every night with my portable CD player, and I had it on my Myspace playlist. I remember listening to “You’re Not Sorry” and not thinking of bullies, or crushes, I thought of Chris, my Mom, and my brother and every mean thing they may have said. Whether it was meant or not. My little brain processed it as such, and I would lay there wishing for something to change. So, as I became an adult and started to process things, and work through the trauma, it became hard for me to listen to some of my favorite songs because they would become triggers. I don’t have that album CD anymore, I stopped listening to it when we moved to Indiana. Then a friend asked to borrow it and I gave it to her, but I never got it back. I bought them all again when Reputation came out, then they all got broken on one of the many moves between Indiana and Cali. So, I’ve just listen to her latest 3 (Lover, Folklore, and Evermore).

Well, with these new versions (Taylor’s versions) it give rebirth to my love of those songs. I can listen to them, and not have them trigger flashbacks. They’re practically the same songs, and I can’t explain why it’s different. I just know that the slight variation in “Love Story (Taylor’s Version) doesn’t trigger, and I hope that I will be able to create new memories around these new versions. Create new connections, and be able to enjoy them in all of their glory. They really are great songs, and I’m excited to associate happy memories to them. She can own her life’s work, and I can gain ownership of my memories. Like rewriting a CD back when we had to burn them to make “customize playlists”.

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This Is The Last Time

For the longest time, I didn’t understand why or how she did it. She cut off her family and walked away. I couldn’t understand, because I was raised that you don’t give up on family. No matter what.
I understand now. Blood ties mean nothing if they keep hurting you. If they keep causing harm to your peace and your calm. If they take it upon themselves to make decisions for you, then write it off as if they were looking out for your interests. They don’t see that they don’t know you anymore. They can’t see the changes or the reasons behind the actions you take. Even worse, sometimes they do see it, but they write you off anyway. They dismiss your decisions and feelings because it doesn’t suit them. It doesn’t fit what they think, so they try to manipulate it to fit their views.

I understand why she did it, and now I have to do it too. I have to walk away from the poison that has almost killed me time and again. A family shouldn’t hurt each other like this. This isn’t what family does, and I cannot continue to be a part of it. I cannot sit there every birthday/holiday/get-togethers and pretend like this is ever going to heal. That I will be okay because I won’t.

They will be angry and, they will place the blame on others because that is what they do. They will write me off as “overdramatic,” “crazy,” or any other way they will describe this. They will say that I let a boy come between us. They will say, “he wasn’t worth it.” They will say, “he wasn’t good enough for me.” or that I’m “too good for him.” I know that is what they will say because it is what they have been saying since Friday. They don’t see it was their actions that caused this rift. They won’t witness the damage they have caused – I won’t allow them to. I will pick up and move on and continue to survive, but they cannot fix this. They won’t be able to see how deeply this stab in the back cut me.

All they will see, is how this effects them. How could I do this to them, because this hurts them. It won’t, though, that’s the thing. My presence, or absence, never meant anything to them. I’ve moved so far and they think I move to run from my problems. I do run. I run from toxic people. That has been the driving factor in all of my moves. I started feeling suffocated and unable to grow. So, I left. It was easy, too. Leaving is easy for me. This last interference, though, the way they ignored everything that I was saying. The way they ignored the sound of my world shattering, and then blocked every attempt I made to hold on to something -anything. Again.

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Let it die

We didn’t get far at all. So, I don’t know why this hurts so much. I guess I got used to messaging every day. I had hoped for a chance.

They were right to warn you about me. Everything they said had some degree of accuracy. I have a Midas heart, and when I let someone in… it starts out so great and then… well… Anyway, I should’ve just walked away.

I was right, someone always catches feelings and gets attached. At least it was I who was hurt. I don’t want you to. Because it was I that saw the end of the story from the beginning. I’ve read the story and even watched the films so many times, but still I had hoped for a different ending.

So, we let it die. The sparks turn to embers and the embers to ash. We have to let it go and walk away greatful that the burn wasn’t as deep as it could have been.

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Is it time to go?

Hello Dear Readers,

I am sitting here in my apartment and I have so much on my mind. I want to tell you of a lesson that though I’ve learned. I have a hard time stopping myself from repeating. It’s okay to repeat a lesson, you know. There are no rules when it comes to life, besides not causing harm and things like that. However, my repeat offense I’ve come to realize is I run. As with most of my posts, I tell the story, then tie in the lesson. With this one, however, there is no one specific story. I have so many stories where I leave so abruptly they rarely have an ending. Just: I left… The End.

I talked a little about it in my post from 2 years ago “Walking Away” I mentioned how I left a guy I once knew in Arizona. Well, between “Our Death” and “The State of the Union“. I did it again. I walked away from California, and my life there. The thing with leaving is it feels so good at the moment. It is a high, one that I once thought was a “healthy high” as some call it. With all highs, though, you have to come down and there are consequences that you cannot escape. As hard as you may try, you can’t ignore how you hurt the people you left. That becomes guilt and though you can grow from it, you can’t sidestep it. It will always catch up to you. Well, in my case it comes back in memories late at night. I can see it as a video playing back on a presentation screen. I miss those moments, and sometimes I look back to see how the people I left are now.

I would be lying if I said I don’t wonder what could have been. I also have many “what if’s”. Tonight, the memories came back from seeing a small profile picture in my messenger, that said he’s online. Tonight, I’m glad I never erased his messages. I can go back and read them like looking through a yearbook. I remember how he found me on Facebook after months of not speaking. I remember meeting up and our night-time drives. How we ended up at the top of that hill overlooking San Luis, and on the back roads of Nipomo. If you happen to read this, I hope you’re doing well. I cheer for every success and feel sorry for every loss. You work so hard. I know we can’t go back, but we can remember. At least, I hope you remember those times as fondly as I do.

As for YOU, my dear reader, I want you to know that it’s okay to leave. Just make sure you tie up your loose ends before you do. Always know that you do have an impact on others’ lives – for worse or for better. The experiences and the talks, the drinks, and the silences. It all ends up in a story for everyone involved. Just different versions. I hope, in the end, it was all worth it.

I’ve been wondering if I should move again. The urge comes like a tickle in the back of my mind. The scenery gets old, and the interstate looks like an adventure again. I can’t make up my mind (that’s nothing new) but I know that when the time comes, I will feel it in my gut. It will feel right.

The last time, I didn’t have that. It was just a whirlwind of adrenaline and a sense of loss and wonderland. Then I got stuck with lockdown, and then a lease. Funny how things just add on. Grandma always says “If you don’t have a plan, life will make one for you.” I’m beginning to understand just how right she is.

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The Rights of a Child

Welcome back, dear readers! It’s been alittle while but, something has been on my mind and I’ve been gathering information and reading about this topic. In an older post of mine Childhood Trauma Shapes Adult Views, I talked about human rights and how every human being is entitled to those rights. I also mentioned that the United States is the only industrialized nation that has not ratified the Universal Declaration of Human Rights treaty. There’s another treaty that I think needs to come to light: The Convention on the Rights of the Child. This convention was formed in September of 1990 and has been ratified by most participating countries. The United States is the only country that has not ratified this treaty. A movement has been circulating the internet a #saveourchildren. This treaty acknowledges that the child has his/her rights from the moment they are born. In this treaty, a child is defined as a human being under the age of majority.

It adds protection in the Juvenile justice system and would end sending children to prison for life without the possibility of parole. Too many children are introduced to the United States’ “Justice” system at too young of an age. A large number are simply for childish acts and behaviors like tantrums or arguing with their teacher. Instead of working through the child’s behavior, they’re accused of crimes and then pushed through the court system and end up traumatized by our prison system. According to the International Justice Resource Center, roughly 200,000 American children were tried as adults and placed in adult detention centers. Many adolescents are shuffled through the adult justice system as early as 16 and 17. Also, many have had their due process denied with long waits and their ability to waive legal representation. Without an adult or representative present, while being questioned by authorities, they are in a fragile and suggestive state. How is this okay?! We treat children as small adults in times where it is inappropriate to do so. Their development is not complete; they cannot comprehend everything that is happening. Exposure to trauma can even delay brain development. Even the smartest child should not be expected to behave or think as an adult. The United States is 75 years behind in human rights, but our greatest failure has been the juvenile justice system. We have failed our young and have violated numerous human rights along the way. It is not okay! Children deserve to be happy, healthy, expressive, and innocent. Our Judicial and punitive systems need reformation. 

While there has been some growing support for ending life without parole in the juvenile system, there has not been any support to ratify this treaty. There hasn’t even been a vote! The opposition has been that it would cause government overreach into family life or would limit the sovereignty of the United States. The United States has lost its ability to speak in terms of human rights. Our underage citizens need protection from the government, just as adult citizens need theirs.

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Lonely Adolescence

Hello dear readers,

Today I want to talk about isolation in adolescence. My experience with it, how to recognize someone starting to pull back, and how to realize if you are contributing to it with a child in your life. I want to talk about this because the first time I actually thought the world would be better without me was when I was 14. When you’re in that preteen to the early-teen stage, you start feeling some very adult feelings. Only, they’re new and you don’t know how to process them or even verbalize it not to mention as a teen they’re all heightened. So, the first time you feel a new emotion… it’s a pretty memorable experience.

The first time I realized that no one, other than my family, actually liked me was in 8th grade. I was in what had been my favorite class, and the only one I was passing, and we were listening to songs from artists that had dark lyrics. Two of my favorite artist happened to come up, and he mentioned how Nickleback had started out as a Christian band. It blew my mind. I was thinking “No…” while playing through their songs in my mind. I didn’t realize I was actually talking out loud. The teacher snapped, “Yeah!” at me, and I realized what had happened. All of my classmates were laughing at me and the look on the teacher’s face was… between anger and annoyance. To my 14-year-old mind, it solidified my place in the school- as an outcast. No one wanted me there -even to the teachers, I was a burden. It was the first time I wanted to die. I had expected to die, but this time I desired it. That feeling never went away. I stopped trying in school. My grade in his class dropped, along with my other classes. I stopped listening to the teachers. I pulled away from everyone. Every time I tried to reach out, I was ridiculed and made into a joke. So, I stopped reaching out. I never attempted suicide. I tried cutting, but I didn’t like the pain. Plus, should anyone saw any of the scars, they’d say it was for attention. I just stopped trying.

So. Things to look for, as adults, in teens is when they suddenly go quiet. If they’re talking and enthusiastic, then they stop. NOTICE! Pull them aside after class, or if you notice other kids are laughing at them, stand up for them. TEACH them. Don’t let them figure it out, or punish them for things that aren’t a big deal. For kids at that age, something as small as a harsh “yeah” could cause a piece of them to shut down. They may never get it back.