Coming Home.

 I remember the goal.

The goal was to get well enough to be able to get a job. To push the OCD back and far away enough to be able to have a 'normal' life. Well, I achieved it. It took blood, sweat, guts and too many tears to count but my god did I do it. I looked OCD in the face and told it to fuck off. I mentally listed everything it had taken from me. The opportunities I had missed, the life I had been unable to live. I sat one day flooded in tears saying aloud “I hate you. I HATE YOU”. I had blocked the hoover with tissue that I was too afraid to pick up. I had to practically dismantle the thing to sort it out, which lead me to think that it would have been so much easier and less time consuming to have just picked the stupid tissue up in the first place. I was filled with rage. And for once it wasn't aimed at me, it was aimed directly to the correct culprit, the OCD. Having that thing to directly place the blame on became my bullseye. Something to aim towards – or in my case, head directly away from. The OCD became my enemy. It had deprived me of so much that how else could I have looked at it? That mentality worked in my favour. With consistent, hard work I was able to turn my life around. I actually began living again.

"My story is not a sad story; it's a real one.

It's a story about a girl who fought through a storm she thought would never end."

-hannah blum

Within the first three months of starting my job I was unhappy. I felt like I had no time for myself, no time to work on myself. I feel that a person needs to be constantly working on themselves. I believe that who I am is ever evolving and my education of myself will never be finished. Working ate into my 'me' time. I felt like I was growing further and further away from myself and as a result, my recovery. I never believed that getting the job would be the last piece of the puzzle but I never expected it to cost me anything. I never thought it would take pieces of the puzzle away from me. Over the last two or so years since I've been working, I have been in and left an abusive relationship, been diagnosed with symptoms of eupd and feel like I have grown further and further away from myself with each month that has passed. Even when I feel there is something to aim for I have looked the other way and in doing so have worsened my relationship with myself.

I haven't re-focused.

Even though I have three whole days off a week all to myself I still haven't made the time to get back to my recovery. Each day I push it to the back of my mind. I fill my free time with watching true crime videos on YouTube which, lets face it doesn't exactly bring a person joy. Or I listen to sad songs that remind me of bad times. Or I isolate myself and sit in my room ruminating my negative feelings rather than focus on the good in my life. I think when I had a clear enemy to focus on it made it (somewhat) easier to push forward. The OCD was a cut a clear opponent with whom I was eventually able to defeat. Now I feel aimless. I think about it all the time. I can't find the goal. It feels like there's a big bullseye looming over me but it's just out of reach.

I think I spent so much time worrying that I have no goal that it completely eluded me... Me. I'm the goal. Working on myself has never felt like work. It has filled me with pride, motivation and enthusiasm. The first day I walked out of my house when I was home alone gave me a feeling of complete euphoria. I was on top of the world. When I am working on myself I am driven. Coming home to myself is a direction that feels more than right. It feels familiar and exciting all at the same time. I am back on track to findingnoo. 

"I have traveled through madness to find me"

-danny alexander

Thank you for stopping by, I really appreciate it xoxo

As always, sending you love and kickassery 😏💪💋💖

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Waiting for an apology that will never come

•|Trigger warning.|•

The following contains adult content, my experience with mental, verbal and emotional abuse, mental health struggles. Reader discretion is advised.❤

🌱

I spoke to him.

My ex-abuser.

I told him about that one specific time and how what he did to me would constitute sexual assault.

He looked at me blankly.

No apology.

I described what he did to me that day.

Somehow I managed to describe it without the gory details.

Giving just enough information to jog his memory.

He couldn't remember.

No apology.

All he added to the conversation was that I had freaked him out by saying that I could have reported him for what he had done.

He didn't ask how I am/how I've been dealing with it etc.

No apology.

Since what happened I have been plagued with flashbacks.

Now when I think of him it is one of the first thoughts I have.

But for him? He didn't even remember it happening.

No apology.

For months I have been in a prison. Remembering that day and many others when he would be abusive.

I'm still able to be brought to tears when thinking of that year of torment.

Him on the other hand? Doesn't even recall how he treated me.

No apology.

His life has continued on as normal.

He is still on the same path in his life.

All of his plans and relationships haven't been tainted.

He isn't looking for red flags when surrounded by others.

He's happy.

He is still the whole person he was.

His family haven't had to see him breaking down.

No apology.

There is a huge blank space within me and I feel like that part of me is still there in that hotel bathroom. Too jarred to produce tears. Feeling afraid and weak. I believe when I left the hotel room that day, I left a huge piece of me sitting there. She has been trapped there all this time. In a constant loop of not knowing what to do. Feeling used and broken. I can feel her sitting there alone. Crying. She can't find the key card to exit. Her stomach is in knots. She can see his marks on her body. She's showered but still feels incredibly filthy. Empty stomach. Mind full of dread and disgust. The guilt I feel for leaving her behind is intense. But how do I go back and rescue her only to tell her that I have continued to make the same mistakes? I imagine reaching out my hand to her and her cowering away from me. And I honestly cannot blame her. At every point I chose him over me. I put his needs first. I created a world in which I was invisible to everyone – including myself.

I have overwhelming feelings of pain and anger towards myself. After everything he put me through, it's me who I'm mad at. 

It's my apology to myself that I am waiting for. Even to this day. 

Thank you for stopping by, I really appreciate it xoxo

As always, sending you love and kickassery 😏💪💋💖

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Guilt / My Companion

For the majority of 2019 I was in an abusive relationship.
In December of that year I - reluctantly and somewhat unwillingly - walked away. Throughout our time together there had been flags of all kinds of colours. Which I pushed to one side every time. The way in which he spoke to me, about me and how he treated my soul and body wasn't okay. To put it lightly. But he kind of reminded me of someone. Me. The words he would use, the lack of consideration for my thoughts and feelings. His callousness with my emotional well being, the body that I live in and my mental health. It all felt familiar. Close to home. I feel on some level he was able to see what little regard I had for myself and used that as his benchmark. It makes me assess other relationships I have had and how there is a common under current to how I am treated.

Since then I have been on the journey working on healing. I have had racing thoughts, endless questions to which I have largely been trying to push to one side. However, this past week I have been pestered and left wondering...

How many times is God/Source/The Universe,

going to bring someone into my life

 - that reflects my own toxicity back at me - 

JUST for me to ignore it?

I have been sent living mirrors. People who have as little regard for me and my feelings as I do, several times, for me to then simply be ignorant to the message.

Looking back at my life as a whole there is a consistent pattern. I believe that if I put up with anything and everything I have in a way 'paid my dues'. If I have been badly mistreated that means something amazing will come my way. Maybe if I allow myself to be treated like crap then I will be rewarded. It's like I'm working off a debt that doesn't exist. AND If there isn't someone in my life treating me badly you best believe that I will personally fill that position. I have been a willing and active participant in my overall mistreatment. All because I believed that I deserved to be struggling, miserable and filled with guilt.

"Self betrayal is a coping mechanism learned in childhood when we betray our own needs, emotions and desires in order to gain love or approval from a parent figure".

-the holistic psychologist

I actually thought the other day: why am I punishing myself? What have I done that I need to make amends for? I had zero answers. That isn't me saying I'm perfect, I've never made a mistake in my life or that I'm some kind of angel because - p-lease 👀  - Perfect doesn't exist, we've all made mistakes but punishing yourself? Achieves nothing. Sure, if, for example, you hurt someones feelings : apologize and move forwards. What more can a person do? I literally walk around as if I owe the world an apology just for being here. I feel like my existence is a burden.

Over the last few months I have given myself a bit of space and it has provided me with some clarity. In a video I watched the other day, the speaker said that you may be in an abusive relationship with a toxic person but you are toxic too... To yourself. Man did my jaw hit the floor. In truth, I feel that the guilt I feel is valid but perhaps not in the way I have always believed. I feel guilt over allowing myself to be used, abused and neglected by others but mainly, by me. I feel that I do owe an apology but only to myself. The pattern I have been living my whole life is toxic, it keeps me very small and makes me a doormat in every way imaginable. How could this serve anyone?? I'm living proof that it doesn't. Not at all.

"a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offense, crime, wrong, etc.,

whether real or imagined".

-guilt definition

In all honesty I think I used to 'blame' it on the beliefs I had with regards to religion. If I am the nicest, purest, kindest, un-selfish person in the world then surely I will be in Gods good books. It sounds a little ridiculous and sad to me now realizing that this is how I have lived my life. From as young as I can remember I have always stifled my complaints, my needs and qualms with regards to others and the world. Truly believing that if I ask for nothing I will be rewarded everything. And that isn't in a manifesting kind of way. Eg: I will exude positivity and positivity will return to me. More like: Asking for anything is bad, needing things are selfish. If I am as selfless as can be, only good can come of it. SPOILER ALERT that's a crock of shit. Anything but good has come from living this narrative.

I have lived each day as if I am locked in a prison cell.
I am the prison guard, the prisoner and the warden. All of whom are keeping their eyes on me, making sure I tow the line. The slightest resistance to feeling that I deserve better/more and I am reprimanded. Whether by removing enjoyable things from my life, creating a severe depressive episode or by isolating me from anyone and everyone. I am fully prepared for when I need to be punished but I am never ready to do the opposite. To have an understanding that life is what I make it and by continuing this seemingly never ending loop, I am, each day, reinforcing that the way I think is correct and that there is no need to change it.

"I'm a black belt when I'm beating up on myself,

but I'm an expert at giving love to somebody else".

-demi lovato

My belief system has kept my world small, tiny, even. Resulting in me never striving for more. Never having goals or aspirations. I am left feeling like I don't really know who I am. Who am I without people pleasing? Who would I be if I were able to remove the unnecessary guilt that I carry with me constantly? What kind of life would I be living if I didn't always shun myself for daring to reach out my hands and ask for more? Without my guilt who the hell am I? I wish I could tell you. Stripping away all of the trauma, the programming, the laws that I force myself to live by, what could possibly be left? I feel like I cling to my guilt as if it were my best friend. It is knitted into who I am. The thought of losing a part of yourself is kinda scary - even when it is a negative part. Take one step out of your makeup routine and boy will you notice it. Take away a piece of yourself? Who knows what ramifications will occur. 

I just want to be happy. I feel like I have managed to rule out so many possible 'reasons' for my guilt but have yet to settle on the root cause. 

If I dare to ask for more for my life what will happen?

Lets see.

Thank you for stopping by, I really appreciate it xo

As always, sending you love and kickassery 😏💪💋💖

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