As we all know, today is Valentine’s day. I’m one of those people without a Valentine to celebrate with… so my night is going to consist of Netflix, reading, and Chinese take out. Anyone else doing the same?
I refuse to allow myself to become miserable over today. I hate that I’m so socially awkward. I hate that I’m scared to leave my house. I hate that I’m so quiet… I hate that I’m so scared to get close to people. I feel like I might have been attractive enough to have a date tonight, if these hadn’t been issues for me. But tonight, I drown my sorrows in fresh baked cookies from scratch. Would anybody like to message on kik?

My Abusive Relationship Story.

While I was gone, I had promised myself that I was open my eyes up to new experiences in life… and I did.
Come late November, I met the most amazing guy that I had talked to in a very long time. It was a whirlwind romance, a spectacular Rendez-vous worthy of screaming towards the heavens. I thought this was going to be a wonderful relationship… but he turned out to be a not so wonderful guy.

From the beginning we had fallen in love, it was one of the very few times that I had let my guard down for a man (I will learn from my mistake). Once he knew he had me in love with him, he turned very quickly. Initially I thought it was a gradual change, until after we broke up and I went back to read my old journal entries, there was nothing gradual about how he was acting. The only thing that had slowly begun to change was my perception of him as I slowly came to my senses.
At first, he would just get jealous or angry that I had an account on MEETME regardless if I was using it or not, he wanted to go through it all the time. I wasn’t cheating, and even though after two weeks of checking it constantly, he didn’t believe me. Then came the other social media, he was checking my instagram, twitter, and text messages more than I was. He continuously posted pictures of himself all over my instagram. I thought it was a cute sentiment at the time but later I realized it’s so everyone would see that he was the alpha male. He had me delete these things. Delete the MEETME, delete ex’s from my Instagram, delete everybody from my phone that he didn’t like (which included every single one of my friends), and the most stupid part about this thing was that I let him. I waited at his feet like a little puppy dog for his next command. I was becoming depressed by this point, when he would leave for work it would sink in how alone I was, I had nobody to talk to at all.

Next came cutting me off from family. The only person he’d allow me to be around was my grandmother, and I think that’s because she was the only one completely ignorant to the situation (which could’ve been dangerous because I was living with her at the time). The rest of my family saw straight through him, and they worried for my safety. If I wasn’t alone at home–which became rare because as I said before I was extremely depressed and therefore never went anywhere– he would call me no less than every 20 minutes. And he would get very very angry if I was driving and didn’t answer the phone, even though that was the reason for my car accident (which I’ll get to in another post). Keep in mind that if I wasn’t at home, I was with family (I didn’t have any friends left). I remember in particular one time where he called me like 1000 times even though I told him I was driving my other around and finally she picked up the phone, he had a hissy fit wanting to know exactly where I was and who I was with and he questioned every little detail, EVEN THOUGH MY MOTHER PICKED UP THE PHONE. She told him to calm down the controlling stuff before it got bad, and he flipped out. He hated the word controllling and swore to every family member who called him that, that he wasn’t and never would be, even though that was exactly what he was doing. He didn’t want to face the music of what he was really doing to me. My cousin had been his friend for years prior and my cousin told me to watch my back, I finally understand why.

He had this way of balancing out the good with all of the bad, He would do things to get me to forgive him every time we got into a fight (which my this point was extremely often), he yelled at me a lot. If you’ve been around on this blog for a while you would understand why getting yelled at is such an issue to me, its scary and makes me break down *escepically when getting yelled at by someone three times my size as the was*. Further than that he called me names, terrible awful names that shouldn’t ever be repeated, and he put me down constantly. My self worth was gone. After these fighting episodes he would bring me roses, take me out on a date, anything to make me feel better and sweep his mistakes under the rug, every time he would do this I assumed it meant that he learned what he did wrong and it meant that he wouldn’t do it again, I was wrong.

This went on for what felt like an eternity, until the night that we broke up. That night was when shit hit the fan. It started as a normal night, we had just gotten into another argument about him thinking that I was cheating and it was a nasty argument. Afterwards he came over and brought me some movies that I liked so we could have a movie night. It was the most strained we have ever been, we wouldn’t get near each other, we sat on opposite ends of the couch, no cuddling. It was odd. And then came the point at the end of the night where he blatantly demanded my phone. Before it was different; he would ask, I don’t do demands. For the first time ever I finally told him NO. And that was a mistake, that was the first time (and the last) that he put his hands on me. He kept trying to reach for the phone and I held out my arm as far as I could from him and threw myself onto my side to get it as far away from him as possible (I wasn’t hiding anything, I just didn’t feel obligated to show him unless he could ask nicely) and so he grabbed my arm that was closest to him as hard as he could near my elbow and squeezed (this guy played football, he’s strong). I found later that I had a major bruise there. I’m not going into detail about the rest of the night but basically he ended up breaking up with me and walking out of my door for good, and I was left with a few more bruises.

The sad part is, that he thought what he was doing was okay, he didn’t think he was wrong at all. I could tell from the way he talked he sounded like this was what a normal relationship should’ve been like.
He came back a couple of weeks ago, I thought he had changed… until he told me that if he came back that there would be even more strict ground rules and plus I would have to make some huge grand apology, and then he told me straight out that he just wanted sex (as if I were some floozy) I kicked him to the curb though. As I said before, I learn from my mistakes.

Depression Cripples;

Where for art thou, oh loyal readers?

I’ve been gone for far too long, it seems I’ve been sent off to the looney bin again. Oh what a joyous day!
Not. I feel even worse now than before I went in. Today I was supposed to go back to school, my plan was to start getting back onto a normal schedule. Not just school, but my entire life. Anybody with Major Depressive Disorder can understand how hard something so small as scraping yourself out of bed to shower, take your medicine, and eat, ends up feeling like you’re climbing Mount Everest. Anyways, rather than going to school, I ended up in the hospital (the regular one this time). It seems that my body has decided to give up again. Believe me, I’m right there with it. My body is severely infected and I cant get my meds until Monday. WAY TO GO shitty American healthcare system.

I’ve missed this, I miss posting here, I miss my followers, the friends I’ve made. Expect posts on a regular basis again guys. I’m not quite sure what days I’m going to do (I haven’t quite gotten that far yet) BUT IM GETTIN’ THERE.

Relapse

I was so happy with myself, I figured that I was going so far in life, like maybe I was building this base for myself that allowed to be able to start creating a freedom and to start finding myself and actually start my career and school and my new life. In reality though I’m just stuck in a rut. I relapsed and cut again after almost flipping the car. I’m about to go make my appointment to finally take my license test but now I’m starting to second guess if that’d actually be a good idea or not,

on the bright side I started exploring myself in starting my career as a makeup artist and started a beauty blog, I’d love if anyone checked it out? I’ll be posting hauls, lookbooks, ootw’s, and tutorials. Thanks babes.

Scratches Aren’t Self Harm

Well loves, yet again I am back to battle against ignorance from people on the outside making assumptions

There are just a few things I would like to put out there:

1) YOU are in no way to judge to tell someone that what they do isn’t serious enough to count as self harm. If it’s an act done to inflict pain on one’s self (no matter the severity) it constitutes as self harm

2) the fact that it is not done on the wrist means nothing. In fact, I don’t really know anybody who does it on the wrist, most people I know do it elsewhere to hide it from people. That being said, just because It’s done on the wrist means nothing as well

3) cutting is not the only form of self harm, it’s only the one that is most well known. Many other forms of self harm exist, including burning, scab picking, and even ones as far fetched as sex in the form of self harm (I’ve read on one of my follower’s blogs)

4) So what if they do it for attention? That doesn’t mean a damn. All that means is that they need people to see them, they’re begging for someone to notice them before it’s too late. Just because it’s for attention doesn’t make them any less than the people who hide it

5) NOT ALL PEOPLE WHO SELF HARM DO IT FOR ATTENTION, NOR ARE THEY “MENTALLY ILL PSYCHOPATHS” <- im sick and tired of assumptions like this, it’s disgusting.

6) The worst thing you could do is bully someone who self harms

7) You don’t know what people are going through, don’t make assumptions on anybody. You aren’t them, you don’t know what’s going through their head at any given moment (no matter how much you think you know them). Don’t let the blood of someone else’s death rest on your hands.

The Self Injury “Trend” / If you’re cutting because it’s cool

Well, I’ll be honest. There’s not anything I find most disgusting than someone that would WILLING harm themselves to make some fashion statement or to fit in or because they think it’s cool. Harming yourself is up there with smoking cigarettes, you think it makes you look so cool, but in reality you look awful and it’s doing terrible things for your health.
CUTTING AND BURNING IS NOT EQIVALENT TO SOME NEW COACH PURSE
This becoming a trend is beginning to get popular amongst the younger generations, generally around the time of middle school (about 11-14 years old) and I’m not just ranting on about nothing this is something I’ve witnessed first hand.
No matter if it’s cutting or burning it’s all the same, they leave scars and believe me, the scars left can be pretty gruesome
I remember in the 8th grade my best friend would leave very shallow cuts on her arms and walk around showing them off like battle scars when really she was an imposter for the war. Normally I’m not the type to judge and normally I would question it for another motive “maybe she’s just calling out for help in her own way” which wasn’t true, she went to a hospital and went to therapists and it all came back she was completely fine.
Her only problem was she wanted to fit in with her friends that also self-harmed and she wanted people to feel bad for her so she could have more friends. She would even openly discuss her battles with cutting as if it were a struggle for her for the length of her entire life. Don’t be her. Sure, she was only making light cuts but that doesn’t make a difference. Just as easily the blade could have slipped, it only takes once.
Don’t put your life in danger just to please someone else.