I just need to vent and talk about some things I’ve been keeping in…

I was sitting here crying, because I’m in a very severe episode of depression. I’ve been struggling for a really long time. A year and two months to be exact. I’ve cried out for help to so many people and have felt like no one really cared. I have felt like no one is taking me serious when I talked about how bad things have gotten. If you’ve been around awhile, you know that I’ve been battling some really dark demons. There have been some moments when I didn’t think I would live to see another day. I’ve begged people to listen, and reached out countless times. Yet I’ve still felt so alone. Like not a single person on this planet would care if I was gone. I know that isn’t true, but honestly I’ve never felt more alone in my life. I’ve been battling thoughts I didn’t think I’d come back from. It’s been a year of darkness. A year of fighting through fear and anger and hurt. A year of getting anxious every single time I have to leave the house. This has been a year that’s tested me in ways I didn’t know were possible. A year of intrusive thoughts that in all honesty I thought would end me. It’s been a year of fighting because of an action another person took.

As we all know, I’m very open about the struggles I’m facing because I know when I’m in a dark place, I don’t want to feel like I’m alone in it. So I’m open, honest and raw about all the things I’m going through. Well the rawest thing I can say is for a year I’ve wanted to die. I’ve wanted to be released from the pain, hurt, and trauma. I didn’t want to feel like this anymore, I didn’t want to be scared anymore, I didn’t want any of this anymore. I wanted to die, I still do sometimes. I’ve wanted to be free of the fear, the rage, the depression. I’ve wanted release. Because living everyday with emotions like this is hard. It’s not just a battle, it’s an all out war. Parts of me fighting to stay alive and other parts of me fully giving up. It’s a war that many people do not win. It’s dark, it’s scary, and it’s a time that really shows the true colors of the people around you. It shows who’s really there during the moments when you need them, and who is only there for the moments when you’re unproblematic and don’t have thoughts of suicide.

This past year I’ve honestly had people make me feel bad for being depressed. I’ve had people blame me for issues in their life. I had someone I considered family tell me that my depression, my sadness, my rage was the reason for theirs. They told me that my issues were the reason they were depressed, the reason they wanted to end it all. And even if that was true, even if my darkest moments were the reason for theirs, telling me that I’m the cause of your unstable mental state when I’m in the darkest spot of my life, is not okay. Telling someone who’s already on the brink of suicide that they are the reason for someone else wanting to die, is the most selfish and inhumane thing you can do. Because ever since that day, I have felt like I’m the problem. Like I am this horrible beast of a human that is causing everyone I love to be miserable and hate their lives. And I get it, hearing someone talk constantly about their struggles can get overwhelming, it can get difficult, it can be hard. But seriously, there are so many other ways to say it. I was raped, I was violated in a way that I don’t think I will ever get over. I was stripped down, and held down. So of course I’m full of rage all the time, of course I’m crying and upset and hating my life. And for someone who has also been through things like that, to tell me, while I’m working endlessly to get better that I’m causing your unstable mental health, threw me so far back in my recovery. I have spent months since then scared to talk about anything I’m going through, scared to bring up any negative thoughts and emotions. I’ve been terrified that talking about my struggles would end someone else’s life.

I just feel like if someone is constantly speaking to you about how much they are struggling and are constantly angry, maybe have some empathy and be kind to them. Instead of making them feel worthless for even being alive. Because telling someone who’s already depressed, who’s already suicidal that they are making you feel that way, isn’t right. But then I question myself, like am I being selfish by venting and talking to people I trust about things I’m struggling with? Am I really that awful person they made me feel like I am? Like am I this monster who just destroys everyone around me? I know it’s not easy to be around me when I’m like this, because I have zero ability to be a good friend when I’m this depressed, but I also have zero ability to take care of myself, so trying to take care of someone else is almost impossible. But even still, when they came to me with their problems and their struggles, I still supported them, I still listened. I still did everything in my power to build them up when they couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. But then I was told I’m this awful person who’s bringing them down everyday and causing them to be depressed and want to die. I don’t know, maybe I’m just not seeing things clearly.

And like I said, I know I’m not an easy person to be around when I get like this. But if someone had violated you, assaulted you, took away your sense of security in everything you do, and got away with it. I promise you, you’d feel these emotions too. So to look at someone, who’s supposed to be your best friend and tell them that they are the cause of your issues when they are in the darkest moment of their lives… I don’t know. Maybe they were right. Maybe I am the issue. Maybe I am this dark cloud looming over everyone. Maybe I am exactly what they say I am. But even still, why would you do that? Why would you put that one someone else?

I am just tired. I’m exhausted. I’m having a hard time finding any reason to keep living. And I really just needed to let some of these emotions out, because I don’t have anyone anymore it feels like. And I’m so afraid that if I express how I’m feeling to the people still in my life, that I will get the same reaction from them that I got from the two previous people I considered my best friends. I’m so scared to vent to anyone anymore.

Surviving Assault

And she’s back, since I obviously can’t keep a consistent blog uploading schedule.

Hi guys! I wanted to come here and chat about something really serious. It’s something I feel like not enough people talk about, and the after affects that literally ruin your life. I want to talk about this because I can feel it eating me alive. I have people I can talk too in my life about it, but for the last month that’s been the focus of my life and I feel like I’m annoying everyone around me.

Let me walk you through what happened.

On September 18th, 2021 I was sexually assaulted. And it’s absolutely ruined my life since. So let me give you the back story of what happened.

I was on bumble, because I used to love swiping through that dumb app, and I happened across this man I thought was super attractive. He also had a pretty funny profile so I was super intrigued. I swiped and we ended up matching. So we started chatting. I think we had talked for like two weeks and decided we should meet up.

Just a heads up, the next part I feel super, super stupid about, and I blamed myself constantly for what happened because of these next few details. Back to the story.

So we set a date. We were going to head downtown and grab some drinks. He had the idea to get a hotel downtown because he has kids and he wanted to have a spot to hang out after we got our drinks. He asked me to book it since I used to work for this specific hotel company and I can get discounts still. So me being the naive idiot I am, I booked the hotel.

The day comes to meet up and I’m a nervous wreck. Now that I look back on it I think my intuition was trying to tell me something was off about this date, but I chalked it up to being nervous. As I’m getting ready, I’m shaking super bad. I realized I had this feeling something wasn’t right but all my friends kept telling me it’s just nerves so I pushed through. I am finally finished getting ready, so I head downtown to check into the hotel. I wanted to be the one to check in just in case things went south, I’d have a place to go back too and not have to worry about finding a ride home. So I get to the hotel, get checked in and I wait for my “date”. He finally gets there and we take a few minutes to figure out where we wanted to go. He asked if I wanted food (which I did) and we head out to find a place to eat. He notices a piano bar and decides we are going to do that instead of getting food. So we head in. The first thing he wants to do is get some drinks, which he did all night. I was never allowed to go to the bar to get my own drink. Being naive I though this was him being a gentlemen, but now I’m thinking it was something else…

Honestly, at first I thought things were going great but at some point in the night I blacked out. Let me just say that no matter how drunk I’ve gotten in the past, I have never blacked out. I always remember what’s going on around me. However, this time was different. I don’t remember leaving the piano bar and everyone I was talking to that night said in an hour span I went from sober as could be to completely and utterly wasted (which is weird for me because even when I’m absolutely plastered, I can still carry on a conversation and I know what’s going on around me).

So we leave at some point, I don’t know when but we do. We went back to the hotel and I had texted my friends I was going to sleep. Next thing I know, there is a huge man on top of me and I felt severe pain. I remember yelling “NOOO!” But I still felt the pain. It was awful, and terrifying. I couldn’t do anything, I felt like no part of my body was working. I didn’t feel in control of anything which led a lot of people I’ve talked too about this think I was drugged. I have never felt more scared than in that moment when I felt I had zero control over my body and something terrifying was happening to me.

I think at this point I chose to zone out because the next thing I know I was texting my good friend that I was just raped. Said friend, who we are gonna call James, starting blowing up my phone, I’m sure he was scared to death too… He said at some point I answered the phone but I was whispering and sounding scared before “someone” took the phone and hung up on my friend. James said he just kept calling, blowing up my phone like crazy (which we appreciate and love him for). James said one of the times he called, my rapist answered, this is when James asked where I was and my rapist said I was showering to which James replied, “she said you raped her”. At this point I can remember his rage. The anger that was coming from this man was insane… and I never want to experience something like this again.

Let me bust in to the story really quick and say, I don’t remember showering at all. I don’t know if it’s a coping thing or if I really was drugged and just kept going in and out of consciousness.

Anyways, the next thing I distinctly remember was me laying in bed. I just remember banging, things slamming and my rapist yelling, “WHAT THE FUCK REBA” “GOD DAMNIT” “WHO THE FUCK IS JAMES SMITH” and more things like that, he also mumbled things under his breath. At this point I’m curled up in the bed and pretending to be asleep just hoping this man will leave. Absolutely terrified of what would happen next.

I finally heard the door slam and I jumped into action. I’m running around this room looking everywhere for my phone so I can call my mom, and then I realized one of the worst things ever… he stole my phone!!! He not only stole my phone though, he took anything that wasn’t my personal items like cloths and my purse.

The thing that scared me the most at this point was my only source of contact to the outside world, this man had stolen from me. Being that I was very in and out, it took me a second to remember that hotels still have phones in the rooms, thank God!! So I grabbed the hotel phone and just called my mom over and over and over until she finally answered.

When I tell you hearing my moms voice was the most incredible feeling ever, I’m not kidding. I was in that hotel room, bruised and hurting, feeling absolutely terrified because I didn’t know if my rapist took a key to the room and would come back. But as soon as my mom answered I started bawling from the relief and just said he raped me. I told her where I was and she said she was on her way to get me. After I got off the phone with my mom I threw on whatever cloths I could find and ran downstairs. I told the hotels front desk agent what was going on and he hid me in the back office. I should give that boy the biggest shout out because he listened to me cry, hid me while I was terrified and gave me his number in case I need anything from the hotel for the legal case.

My mom finally got to the hotel and I was a mess. Crying, hurting, terrified. Her and my brother went up to the room to get all my stuff and make sure I didn’t just misplace my phone (I didn’t, my rapist did steal it) so we could leave. I don’t remember everything that happened after my mom got there, I was in and out. I think that was due to my survival instinct kind of calming down and I was hit with this wave of unimaginable exhaustion. Anyways, my family gets my things and we get ready to leave, but not before my mom and James convinced me to go to the hospital.

I wanted absolutely nothing to do with getting the rape exam. I know that 99.9% of the time, sexual assault cases don’t get a conviction, so in my mind the rape exam was just a waste of time. I didn’t want to go through it, not with the way rape is looked at all the time. I have to say though, my dear momma was able to get me to go. It did take a lot of convincing though. My mom asked me where I wanted to go and the only place I trust is the hospital I work at. So that’s where we went.

The exam took around 4 hours. It was so traumatic. Having the relive everything to ensure the police had the most information for the case. During the exam my nurse found so much evidence. Things that are to personal to discuss, but when I say I was beat up down there, I was beat up. My nurse thought I might need stitches. It was awful. However, I had the best team of people around me. My rape exam nurse was incredible and I owe so much to her. I don’t know how I can ever thank her for what she did for me that night. I had so many of my team leads protecting me every step of the way and it made me feel like I might actually be able to get through this.

Now let’s get into how the assault has had this lasting, miserable affect on me…

No one really talks about the after of sexual assault, in my opinion anyways. These are the things that I feel like I can’t get people to understand. I am never, ever going to be the person I was before my assault. I am never going to be as bubbly and outgoing as I was before. Everything has changed. My mental health is on a steady decline and I don’t know how to make things better.

The after I think is worse than the actual assault itself. Ever since the assault I’m terrified all the time. Every little noise when I’m alone, outside of my house obviously, absolutely terrifies me. I can’t go out by myself anymore because I get the most intense panic attacks. If I hear or see anyone who reminds me of my rapist, I have a panic attack. The room I had my sexual assault exam in is a huge trigger for me, so anytime I’m at work and I have to walk by that room, I power walk. I get freaked out in public now, so I avoid being out by myself. I’m hyper aware of everything going on around me. It’s been miserable since this happened to me. Constantly being on edge, constantly being ready to run and constantly thinking everyone is gonna do these things to me.

The previous statement makes the next information, that my mental health has also hit the lowest of low, seem pretty normal. I’m so beyond depressed that I can no longer find the light in my life. I can’t find anything that is worth living for. I am so depressed I genuinely think that I would be better off dead. I mentally can not handle what this man did to me. He took more than just my phone from me. This man took everything from me. He took my sense of security. He took my ability to trust other people. He took my ability to be a social butterfly. He took my ability to be alone and go places. He took my joy. He took my happiness. He took the parts of me that I loved the most. He took me… This man has absolutely destroyed what I used to be, and I don’t know how to get that back.

I don’t feel happy anymore. It’s like every positive emotion I’ve had in my life no longer exists. I get moments where I feel okay, but for the most part now my life is just sad. I don’t feel like there is a reason to be alive anymore. No matter how hard I try to not think about what happened, it has consumed my life. Everything I do has been completely reworked because of the fear this man left inside of me. I’m just tired. I’m exhausted from fighting this, I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to feel like there is nothing in this life to look forward too, yet that’s how I feel. I feel like I’m not only fighting what this dude did to me but like I’m fighting myself too. Trying to be happy in a body that refuses to forget what happened. Constantly reminding me that I am small. That a man could overtake me at any point and I can do nothing about it. That no matter where I am or what I do, something bad could happen.

I know this is a lot of very personal, raw and emotional content. But this is my safe space. The space I created to talk about everything I want/need too. And this is something huge that’s taking over my life, so I need a safe space to let out these feelings. Don’t be rude in the comments and remember; every women knows another women who’s been sexually assaulted by no man knows a rapist.

PS: I did give the cops all the information I had on this guy. And this dumbass dude left my “find my iPhone” on so I was able to track my phone to his address. And if this ever goes to court, I am prepared to take this man down.

Hope this wasn’t too much. Kisses…

Reba G

Living with Mental Illness

I’m back. Ready to talk about more deep things since I can’t sleep. So hi everyone 🥲

Trigger warning: I am going to be talking about mental health and suicidal ideation, so if that is a trigger for you, please just skip this post. I completely understand and I love you regardless.

Here goes. I have been struggling hard the last few days. My depression reared it’s ugly head and it’s more severe than it’s been since January of 2020. I keep feeling like it’d be easier to be dead than deal with how sad and hopeless I feel. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything to hurt myself, that’s just how I feel in this moment. I don’t know what triggered the depression, but it’s so bad. I am getting upset and crying over things that shouldn’t upset someone. I don’t want to eat. I can’t sleep. And I just feel alone.

Obviously there is a theme here with good ol’ Reebs. I always feel alone. I could be in a room full of people and I would never feel seen, I’d feel invisible and like an outsider. I don’t feel like I’m anyone’s favorite person, I don’t feel like I matter to anyone really and I definitely don’t feel like I’d be missed if I was gone. Which logically I know (well I hope) is not true. But I have such a hard time breaking out of these super depressive episodes. It typically takes awhile and a few mental breakdowns to get back to a place where I feel good.

My health anxiety is super bad right now too. I’m worried about everything. I mean, obviously you can’t have depression without her best friend anxiety too. But this feeling like I’m going to die with every little pain is terrifying. It’s like constantly being told that every thing you feel in your body is a disease that is going to kill you. It’s awful. I feel broken enough, and having my brain tell me tiny marks on my body are some crazy illness, or doctors are going to find cancer if I go just for a check up, it’s driving me crazy. I’m terrified all the time. My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest because I’ve had an on going panic attack since like 6 pm on Friday. We are now at 2 am on Tuesday… this feeling is miserable. And nothing I do seems to help. Add in the sensory over load and insane irritability that I’m trying my hardest to control, even though every little thing is setting me off… I just want to be normal. Not to mention, I’m dealing with flash backs and feelings of intense fear, which is how I felt when I was working through my C-PTSD.

And the absolute worst part of it all is I don’t feel like anyone understands how I’m feeling. I had two of my best friends help me out today, if either of you read this (Kay bug and Jordo) I love you so much and I appreciate everything you do for me. But even with those friends by my side, I feel so alone.

I don’t feel like a normal human. I feel broken. I feel like I won’t ever find love. I feel like every step I’m taking to further my career is all for nothing. I feel like nothing I do is right. I feel like I’m upsetting every person in my life. My body dysmorphia is also out here making me feel like every part of me is ugly. I just don’t feel happy. The only emotions I feel like I can feel right now are anger and despair. I feel so incredibly hopeless. I don’t feel like I’m doing a damn thing in my life the way I’m supposed to be doing it.

These feelings are taking over. And I know, I know it’s all just how my brain is hardwired and once it runs it’s course I will be fine. But in the moment I’m writing this, I just don’t feel like I want to be alive. Or if I am alive, I just want to lay in my bed and cry. What I really want is people to come snuggle with me and just be in my silence, but I know this isn’t logical because it’s not someone else’s depression and I wouldn’t ask a single person to share those feelings with me. Another thing, dealing with mental illness isn’t for the weak, although it makes us feel weak. I know deep down I am so strong. I have overcome so many obstacles that would have destroyed someone else. I’ve pushed through every hardship because I know in the end it will be worth it. So why, right now, am I feeling like the weakest, foulest human on plant earth.

Obviously you guys know, I struggle the most with the sense of being alone. Normally it doesn’t bother me, because I love just napping on my couch with my pets. But then I get like this and I just feel so isolated. I posted a damn video of me crying that over 40 people saw and not a single person reached out to me. And before you say anything, no I wasn’t doing it to get a response or attention, I genuinely just wanted to post the story of the toads. But seeing that many people knowing I’m struggling and not a single person just saying they understand or they were here, just further validated that I am alone.

I wanna say good news just to be the self deprecating bitch I am. This time around my depression is making me feel like I haven’t made a single meaningful connection to anyone. It’s making me feel like I’m failing at trying to better my life. It’s making me feel dumb because I can’t concentrate on anything. It’s making me feel lazy, because I feel fat. It’s just making me feel awful. I don’t know why this time is so bad. I couldn’t tell you what it is that’s bothering me. All I know is I feel lost. I feel like I’ve lost myself again. I don’t feel like I can connect with the happy me anymore. I know I will, don’t worry. I just don’t feel any sort of happiness right now. all I really want right now is support, and I don’t really feel like I have it. Even though I have my select few people whom I love with my entire heart. I still don’t feel happy.

I am so sad. I am exhausted. I’m struggling to achieve my goals. I just don’t feel like me. And I don’t know how to fix it.

Let’s Get Real for a Second

Hi everyone! I know, I’ve been MIA for a very long time. Let me just say I was out here trying to make a super fun return post, something exciting. But mentally I am struggling. So this post isn’t really going to be about any one thing, really just a post for me to word vomit some of my feelings (because I’m pretty sure I’d scare all my friends with the way I’m feeling right now) So, let me give you a quick update.

I turned 25 in March. Had a pretty juicy mental break down, because why not right? Everyone loves a good ✨ quarter life crisis ✨And I decided I needed to do something with my life. I needed to find a purpose. So I decided I’m going back to nursing school. I haven’t been accepted into any programs, but I’m working my little booty off trying to get there. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to help people, to support people on their worst days, to make an impact. And since I currently have not been accepted into a nursing program, but I want to do something I feel is important one of my best friend’s kind of, in a way, lead me to take a phlebotomy course (he told me to go for it when I asked his opinion so I hit pay, shout out to you my sweet Angel goat) and I’m now a certified phlebotomist in the state of Texas, YAY. Not currently working as a phlebotomist unfortunately, but things could change. However, once the dust settled and I was no longer crazy busy with school, depression set in.

I am in a pretty bad mental headspace right now. Like I have zero idea what I’m doing with my life and kind of feel like I have nothing going for me. I don’t know why I’m feeling like this since you know, depression is out here ruining lives, but I’m so down. I’m doing all these things trying to better my life and I feel like I’m only going backwards. It hit me like a truck, one day I’m out here happy as all get out. The next I can’t even get off my couch to shower because I don’t feel like there is a point. And the worst part, even though I know I have people who care, I can’t reach out to anyone and express these feelings. I feel like my problems don’t need to be someone else’s. I don’t want to scare people away with these thoughts of just feeling, being lost. I try to be this happy, bubbly person because the world needs more of that. But I know people can see through it. My sadness comes out in rage. My irritability comes out as isolation. So I don’t reach out, only making the loneliness worse.

When I say I’m lonely, I’m not talking like just feeling mildly lonely. I mean so lonely that I truly believe there wouldn’t be a single person on this planet who would care if I was gone. And I know this is not correct, I know I have friends and family who would be devastated. I know I have people who are there for me and have my back no matter what I need. But I also feel like I have no one because my depression is a slow form of torture that drains every ounce of joy from my life. It genuinely makes me feel like there isn’t any one person in this world who would be completely devastated if I was gone. I know this is a false narrative created by my bad mental state, which makes it worse because I know it’s completely irrational. My depression is isolation and my anxiety is the door standing between me and anyone I care about. Deb (depressions name) isolates me from everyone. She’s like a bad abusive relationship. And Ann (my anxiety) is voice telling me that Deb is the only person who will love me and accept me. It’s truly like a mentally abusive relationship. And I sometimes think my past trauma is the reason my depression is like this, I think the traumas I endured as a kid created these version of my mental illnesses.

Quick commercial break. I don’t have DID, I just had a therapist who had me name my illnesses to separate them from myself to make it easier to identify when they showed up instead of assuming it’s my own thoughts. Back to the regularly scheduled program.

Deb destroys every shred of self confidence I have and wears me down so much that I literally isolate. I do nothing. I ignore people. And while I know this is all due to the chemical imbalance inside my noggin, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s very real to me. Ann isn’t much better, she keeps the door closed and locked so even if the answer was on the other side, Ann guards my escape from Deb. It takes someone literally breaking in when it gets this bad for me to get out of it. I know a lot of it is my fault, well not my fault per say, but the fault of my brain and trauma. I have walls up, I’m dealing with trauma from my childhood every day. So I know, I know that I am part of the problem. It’s just hard. It’s hard to admit and recognize what you’re doing. It’s hard to say that this isn’t real, because it feels so real. It feels like I’m suffocating. Like the air I breath is just a constant stream of negative statements about me, but I can’t escape them because I need that air to survive. Deb tells me constantly how people just tolerate me. She tells me that the people who I care for the most, are the ones behind the scene not thinking about me for a second. It all just leads to this never ending cycle of someone breaking down that door, and then leaving only so deb and Ann can once again take their places and destroy every shred of confidence I have.

Opening up to people and trying to explain the way I’m feeling is hard, it’s probably the hardest thing I battle on a daily basis. I feel like people get scared and don’t want to deal with these deep thoughts and emotions I’m having, like they aren’t really interested and wouldn’t be bothered if I was no longer around. The best way I can explain it is I feel like an after thought friend. Like I’m someone people come too when all their other options are exhausted. You can talk to anyone who knows me, they call me a hermit. Deb just wears me down. She wears down every shred of my being. I’ve been over here for days trying to find a creative outlet, trying to find something I can do that I’m passionate about. Trying to find something that lets me express the way I’m feeling but in a beautiful way. Art, music, writing. All these things are creative outlets to feel what other people are feeling. But that no matter what I do, it doesn’t feel this hole of just lonely. It doesn’t feel this hole that I mean nothing to no one. But I guess trying is something right? I write songs, I try to think of creative new outlets (fashion, makeup, nails). I try, and I know that’s a big step. But I still feel this weight of suffocation and isolation.

It’s not all bad either. I put myself out there and I try to make genuine connections, but I’m so afraid of being hurt, of being abandoned that when I feel myself attaching to people I back away. Even people I’ve known for years. There is one person in my life whom I love more than any human being I’ve ever met, and even this person I feel like I can not talk about these deep feelings with. Even though he’s known me for years, we’ve been through so much together, and he’s ALWAYS had my back no matter what life throws my way, I feel like he’d get scared at the awful thoughts in my brain. Even though I know he won’t, (love you if you’re reading this). He understands me in a way no one else really does. But Deb and Ann sit by that door and tell me he’s going to run if I talk to him about this. And as my longest friendship, losing him would devastate my soul. So I try to keep things surface, which isn’t good either. This is something I do with everyone. Anytime I try to get deep, I stop myself.

The really sad thing is, I’m like this with all good things in my life too. It’s not just personal connections. I am so afraid of failure and rejection that instead of going full out on anything, I quit before I even really try. I tell myself I enjoy being alone, I enjoy just existing, I enjoy being an ordinary person. And that’s totally fine, ordinary is still amazing. But that’s so far from the truth of who I am. I want to make an impact. I want to have a solid purpose in this world. I want to do amazing things, I wanna save lives. But here I am at 3 am on a Friday night and all I can think about is I’m alone.

Childhood trauma has this way of sticking with you forever. It’s like the person who abused you is always over your shoulder. They are always there making everything you do about them. The worst part is when you have a tattoo matching them, a tattoo that truly is so special to you, but matches the person who broke your entire spirit.

I guess I’m just sad. I mean obviously it’s more than sad, this is a legit mental illness that does kill people. But I’m lost. I’m not sure what path I’m on. I feel alone. But a weird sense of alone. It’s so hard to explain something so complex without feeling like I’m dramatic. Which I am for the record but I think it’s a defense thing.

I don’t know, I guess there was no real purpose for this post. More just a little diary for me to explain the things going through my mind. We can’t all be perfect all the time. I’m struggling, I’m mentally just done. But I saw a tiktok and this lady said, “just try one more time”, so I’m just going to try. One more time.

Finding Happiness

I am struggling a little lately. I’ve been super down in the dumps, just feeling really sad which is a thing that happens. But I can’t figure out why. I feel very isolated, very alone. Just not my happy spunky self. I’ve gotten to that place where I’m once again questioning what my purpose is. I feel like I’m just stuck. I know life is a constant cycle of ups and downs, but I hate when my downs are really low and I don’t have a reason.

I’m struggling with how alone I feel. Like I know I have good people in my life but I’m still constantly feeling like I have no one. It’s like I have this dark stormy cloud looming over me. I hate feeling this way. I hate feeling like I’m completely alone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for being by myself, I honestly prefer it most days. I’d rather be by myself and content than with people and constantly being hurt. Which obviously comes from trauma, but still, I sometimes just get this overwhelming feeling that I’m alone. I feel like I’m alone in everything I do.

I have such a hard time believing people have good intentions, so I tend to shy away from getting close to people. Which is low key super depressing because I love being with the people I love. I am a complicated mess of a human who likes to be alone but also enjoys being the life of the party. It’s just when the feeling of being alone becomes overwhelming.

I know I have so many people in my life that I could talk too about what I’m feeling, I know I can be open and honest with them. I know that no one would judge me, and they’d be there to listen. But my brain tells me otherwise. It’s exhausting. I feel like I’m constantly hiding this super depressing side of myself. It’s hard to stay on top of the feelings, but I always feel like everyone is just walking out and leaving.

I don’t really have a point to this post. I just needed a place to express the way I’m feeling. I’m super lonely and my heart is struggling right now. I crave good, genuine human connection but I’m tired, exhausted, by the countless times I’ve been let down by those closest to me. I wish there was an easy fix to all of this. I know these feelings are only temporary but it honestly feels like the bad feelings last infinitely longer than the good. 😔

Getting Comfortable

I think one of the things that can be so difficult to overcome is getting comfortable. I mean in any aspect of life. It could be with your job, with your friends, with relationships or even just life overall. I feel like getting too comfortable stops anyone from growing because you don’t want to leave that zone.

My main issue is I’m so comfortable being alone, and so content just being with myself that I do not put myself out there. I don’t make new friends. Anytime I’m interested in a guy I just become so checked out because I like my little bubble. I like being home. And I like knowing what’s happening in my life.

I’m sure for me it stems from years of just heart break after heart break. Even in my friendships. I’ve had so many friends that just walked out of my life. I totally understand just not clicking with someone, but these were people I was so close too and they just left. I’ve had men absolutely destroy every part of me that I loved. One even used my chronic illness against me which promptly made me stop getting close to men.

But even 3 years later, I refuse to put myself out there for dates or friendships. I’m so tired of being hurt that I’ve gotten so comfortable just staying to myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a super outgoing person and I love human interaction. But sharing deep parts of my is absolutely not happening. Which is bizarre because I can come here all day and express myself. But if someone wants to talk about it in real life, forget about it.

I think getting comfortable stunts you. Not all of you, because I truly feel like the last few years have been my defining ones. Dealing with trauma, working through things, learning about myself and just blooming into the person I want to be. So I’ve definitely grown. But when it comes to any sort of relationship, I want no part in it.

The saddest thing is I crave genuine human connection. I want friends/a romantic relationship where I feel like I can just talk about anything and everything and be completely happy. But I’ve been hurt and walked on so many times that now I’m just completely comfortable being alone. I honestly rather prefer it anymore. And I hate that I don’t step out of that comfort zone because I’m such a social person. But I’d rather be lonely and happy then surrounded by people who could hurt me.

I’ve met some of the nicest people in the world and I’ve still cut them off. Not intentionally. I just get so stuck in this place of not wanting to get hurt that if there’s even a moment that I feel like someone could betray me, I’m done. I have old friends who would lose their minds when I would leave my house for anything other than work or school, that’s how little I left.

I mean even as a little couch potato hermit, I have been hurt. And I think this works the same for a job. You get so comfortable where you are that even if you are miserable, it’s easier and safer than trying to find something different. And I’m sure anyone who relates to this can confirm that when you get comfy it’s almost like you’re stuck. Even when you try to break free, the comfort pulls you back.

It’s honestly frustrating. I’d love nothing more than to spread my social butterfly wings and make all the friends and fill my life with laughter. But instead, I work, go to school and come home. I hardly ever leave my house for anything other than necessity. And that’s so sad. I miss being free, having zero care in the world. But when you’ve been hurt so many times and so deeply by almost every person you’ve trusted, it’s almost like being sad at home is better than a possibility of heart break.

I didn’t intend for this post to be so emotional. I’m just sad. I’m tired of staying stuck, but no matter how hard I try, I would rather be by myself. There is only none human being outside of my family that I constantly let in, but even that person sometimes breaks my heart. I wonder if I’m ever going to find my people in the world. Am I ever going to find someone I love more than being alone?

Maybe now that I’m finally discovering me, and the person I truly am, I will find friends I adore and someone to love. But for now, I’m going to stay in my bubble. No matter how sad and pathetic it is, because humans can’t be trusted.

PS. The reason I say any of this is because every person I’ve confided in has either told everyone what I’ve told them, or makes what I’m saying seem like it doesn’t matter. And some of the things I express to friends/guys I’ve dated, is horrible, nightmare inducing shit and no one ever takes it seriously. 99% of the time it was thrown in my face as a reason for leaving. So no, I do not trust people.

Living with Chronic Pain

I completely forgot what life was like before Humira. The swollen joints, pain so excruciating it hurts to move, crying constantly from the pain.
I unfortunately can’t take Humira 2 weeks prior to surgery until my surgical wound is completely healed, so I’ve been without my medicine for over a month. The pain i’ve been experiencing the last few days is pain I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. My left hand is pretty much useless aside from my thumb due to stiffness and swelling in my joints of my fingers. My left shoulder is so inflamed moving it even slightly sends fire hot pain shooting through my joint. And now my knee is so inflamed that I can’t even roll over in bed without shedding a tear.

I don’t know how I ever lived every day of my life in this amount of pain. Sometimes I think the pain I live in now is unbearable, but there were years that I was living with such excruciating pain and chances are no one ever knew. I got so good at hiding the sheer torture I was going through everyday. I never wanted to feel like a burden so the majority of the time I never talked about it. Then of course I’d get so fed up I’d explode on social media and then be completely fine the next day.

It’s crazy to me that I was able to be functional in this amount of pain, and this amount of stiffness. I can’t even move right now I’m so miserable.
If you’re struggling with an autoimmune form of arthritis, I’m here to tell you that you’re not alone and that it isn’t “just arthritis”. I’ve had people tell me that so many times over the last few years of my life and every single time I’ve wanted to kick them in their teeth. There isn’t “just arthritis” every form is painful. But do a quick little google PsA and RA are some of the most painful diseases out there.

Let me get off my soap box now. I just needed to come here to vent because I’m tired of people thinking I complain too much. Until you’ve lived with any sort of chronic pain condition, you will never understand the struggles of someone who does. Not just my conditions. Which also include endometriosis, central pain syndrome and Ryanaud Syndrome (which you wouldn’t think hurts, but my fingers when I’m cold… it’s not a good time).

I’m just tired of people thinking chronic pain suffers are just attention/drug seeking. I’m not even on any pain medications. All my medicines are to suppress/treat the actual condition. But times like this, I wish there weren’t people out there abusing the system because at this moment in time, I’d rather be dead than suffering.

Is there anyone else out there who feels the same way? Like people don’t take you seriously because they can’t see your pain? Had doctors treat you differently for being honest about your symptoms? You’re not alone. My sister and I both suffer daily, her more so than me, but everyone’s struggle is different. But we are all in this fight together.

Why am I blogging?

I’m sure people are wondering what is the appeal in blogging? Well, for me, this is an outlet. A way for me to express all of my emotions in a space where I feel safe. I can talk about anything and everything without judgement from others, and if there is judgement… why are you here?

I love the idea of being able to just let everything out. Someone may happen upon this blog and find some sort of comfort in what I am saying, and I absolutely love the idea of being able to help even in an indirect way. I think the world could use more acceptance. which is why I want this blog to be a space where not only I can let out my emotions, but people can come and find comfort knowing they aren’t alone in their feelings.

I am a very complex human, as everyone is (of course). There are so many things I want to let out. I have a lot of things that I deal with, as I am sure many of you do. So I would like to write about things that people can relate to. Even if the things I write aren’t 100% something you understand, I know we can all understand feelings. Situations may not be the exact same, but the emotions can be.

So blogging for me is something I am doing mostly to express myself, but also to allow other humans a space where they feel comfortable. I have my social media linked on here too, so if I write a blog post that you’d like to talk about, there is a way for us to do so.