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.

Social Anxiety And The Travel Bug

I feel like my personality and my mental issues have a serious clashing a lot of the time, I feel like on the inside I’m extremely ambitious and that if I could, I would be making a lot of better decisions than I am. Logically, I know that keeping myself locked away into my room isn’t healthy, nor is blowing off my best friends when they’re going to be moving far far away in less than a week. I just can’t do it though. On the inside, I’ve been bitten by the travel bug, (that’s probably due to the fact that growing up my mother never allowed us to live in one place for longer than two months at a time) but once I get it in my head that I want to venture off on some big road trip and d a bunch of completely insane things and take so many chances, my logical head and better judgement kicks in. I’m terrified of life, I’m scared to walk out of my front door in the morning, let alone stay out in the “real world” for a week or longer at a time. I love traveling but I hate leaving my comfort zone. One day… I’m going to get myself out there, I’m going to live. Tonight I made that promise to myself. One day…

Depression/Anxiety Comforts & UPDATE.

So I’m kind of curious if this is just me or not. Does anyone else have certain things that comfort them when dealing with depression/anxiety. I’ve kinda just realized mine and I feel like it’s really weird. Since I’ve fallen deep into depression pretty much the only thing I’ll wear is over sized army coats and skinny jeans with my comfortable slip on hello kitty vans. Just recently have I lost any and every interest at all to “take care of myself” in terms of spending an hour and a half every morning doing my hair and makeup so that I’m more attractive to everyone else. I’ve gotten mixed reactions from different people but the funny thing is, I just don’t give a fuck anymore. Random update btw, I think I’m getting even worse, as if that’s even possible, I mean there’s that thing about not taking care of myself anymore, plus there’s the fact that I can’t handle anything anymore. For some reason I couldn’t even make myself handle being able to sit through school the entire day yesterday, I left during second period. I almost made it to lunch time so I guess that’s a plus. Being around people at all makes me uncomfortable, even if it’s my best friends. I just try to hard to smile and act normal but that alone has become a struggle. I’m not enthusiastic about going to my favorite classes anymore, I used to be the first in my art and theatre class but now I’m the last one through the door every day to every class. I drag my feet and contemplate why I’m even there, it takes me forever to get anywhere.

Back to the point of this post, a part of me feels like complete shit when one of those really pretty girls makes an added point to laugh at me loudly enough for me to hear it when they make fun of me because all I’ve worn this week is army coats and skinny jeans, or even worse when they come up to me and tell me to my face how “id be soo pretty if I actually tried once in a while”… but that’s the problem. Actually trying is taking more life out of me than dealing with life itself. It takes as much effort for me as it does for them to mind their own business and as you see both of these scenerios prove nearly impossible.

I think huge army coats (sleeves rolled up) are my comfort because they’re so big they cover me and are literally almost like a comfort blanket to keep me away from everyone, does anyone else have any weird comforts?