When someone tells you that you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t. Your intentions may have been in the right place, but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook if someone you care about is hurting as a direct result of your actions. You don’t have to understand, although I believe …
If you’re reading this Maybe it means you think about me Maybe it’s because it’s your birthday and you wonder if I remember If you’re reading this It might be to see if I’m talking shit about you Or it means you’re looking for an excuse to continue hating me If you’re reading this I …
I’m not loveable. Not in the permanent sense. I’ve heard a lot of people tell me they love me, but then they either stop communicating with me, shut me completely out of their lives or they try to murder me. I’ve tried to love myself the way I thought I deserved it, just for being …
This weekend is Easter. I HATE Easter. First of all, I’m an atheist and the entire idea of a zombie Jesus is nothing short of ludicrous. But the real reason I despise this holiday is the excruciating memories it brings. Four years ago on this very weekend, my sister hosted a bridal shower that I …
I matter. The violence that happened to me matters. My voice and my emotions matter. The people who refuse to validate me by accepting that they hurt me just can’t matter. I cannot let them. The weak little girl in me wants desperately to hear them say they love me and to feel their group …
As I sit here writing this blog post, I realize its sole purpose is to reach certain people. Like every other post, I want to communicate with the people I love, my family. Actually, what I really want is to grab them by the shoulders and shake them hard as I scream “listen to me!” …
I have these feelings of despair like my heart is shattering in a million tiny shards. I can’t breathe and I get the incredible urge to jump off my deck onto the street below. Anything to escape the churning waves of darkness. I’m trying to learn more about despair, to understand why its there and …
She wanted him dead. A car accident. A suicide. It didn’t matter. She thought maybe she could will it to happen and one day she’d be liberated. He had enslaved her, debased and gaslighted her. He’d owned her body. Brainwashed her mind. Stolen her money. His toxic stench percolated within her marrow. His phantom handprints …
It’s probably safe to say most of us love having pets. They’re expensive little attention whores who make huge messes and constantly demand our attention. But we absolutely adore and pamper our pets. They’re family. I’ve always been an animal lover. I grew up having cats and kind of thought of myself as a sort …
I’ve learned over the past few years that self-care is a critical part of recovery after trauma. I used to relate the term ‘self-care’ to taking a bath, drinking tea in my PJs, a nap, etc. But the reality is that PTSD sufferers view self-care as so much more than feeling warm and fuzzy. Sometimes …