hope

 

Despite everything and everyone around me,

         the hardest thing 

 I do not want to accept 

        that the person I once was is not ever coming back. 

The world has changed, 

        I changed. 

Gave up and let my demons drown me, 

it took a long time, but I am better now. 

    At least I would like to think that I am. 

Part of me keeps trying to run from my past. 

        Sometimes I wish 

I could change it all. 

How am I suppose to be complete, 

     I gave him everything that I was. 

Every day I think of him 

    was loving him a mistake?

        I lash out at myself in my head

It becomes harder day by day. 

        You could not take my thoughts.

My thoughts repay me for the choices 

From all days of my past.

 

remember

 

Life is not over and has not been over; I need a new perspective on my life. I need to keep looking at the positive and stay focused on the little positive things, even if they are few. Those need to define my day, not the negative moments. There is more to me than what I see in myself, and the people whom I have around me need to bring the best out of me, and if they don’t, then I need to walk alone for a while. I accepted disrespect and fell into the cycle and was miserable for so long and called it living when it was dying and did not understand that and need to decide to change and not fall back to my past, to that old history that I struggled so much to leave behind. I need to believe and always remember that I am worth a lot more than what I feel at times. Nothing scares me anymore, and I have realized that scares most people, but I see it as an advantage.

life

Dying is easy, living is hard 

Regarding an incident that occurred on 1/25/18

The day that I found out that Anthony killed himself I broke anything and everything that was made of glass that was within my reach and in my room. I would not stop crying and I could not talk. but people hated Anthony for the way that he treated me. I felt like I was to blame.. when I found it was suiciding the guilt still ate me up especially because I felt as if I saw him again I could have stopped him. He kept asking me to meet up with him and before he would always threaten me saying that he was going to kill himself I didn’t go see him so I always went and that last time that he kept wanting me to go see him I was terrified of him but regardless of that I still felt as if was my fault. I could not stop crying and when my family wanted to know what happened and when they tried to ask me what happened I did not respond but when I did all I said was something along the lines of, “I think I helped killed him” and I walked into the shower. I always calm myself down by taking a shower. Then next thing that I know there are 3 or 4 male police officers in my restroom telling me to get out of the shower.

I am naked and the police officers are telling me to get out of the shower and get dressed and they will not get out or close the door and I am still crying. Then I am dressed, and they tell me to turn around and they cuff me. I am so confused and then I was really to blame for his death since I am being taken outside in cuffs. The police officers try to talk to me, and I just said to get officer Diaz here between me crying. He is an officer who had dealt and helped me in the past and he asked me was going on and I told him Anthony killed himself and I didn’t shit but I am in cuffs and he said wait, Anthony the one who would beat you up? And I said yes and he walked towards the other officers and my family and when my mom heard she said in Spanish “she’s glad he is dead” it broke me down even more.
The officer that was holding me told me to walk towards the car and told me to get in the back seat. For about 15 minutes my family talked with the police officers while I sat in the cop car in cuffs. I was yelling that I could not breathe and to put down the window or turn on the AC, that I was thirsty, I had to pee and I was just ignored until my sister told the officer that I had anxiety he came towards the car and opened the window about less than an inch and then continues talking with my family. Finally, the police officer got in the car and without saying a word to me started to drive and we ended up in the hospital and I told him that I was cold and he had my sweater and he told me he would get it in a minute, which he actually never gave me my sweater and it ended up lost.
When we checked into the hospital and the restroom and water fountain was in front of us I reminded him that I was thirsty and had to pee and he said he knew and that in a minute I will get to use it. I was checked on by 3 different nurses and I asked each of them for water or to use the restroom, but they asked the officer and he said not to let me. About two hours later he left the room and I was still in cuffs I managed to turn on the sink and drank water from it. He walked in as I was drinking water, grabbed me, and forced me to sit down on the floor. I just fucking with him asked him if it would be better if I was on my knees for him and I got on my knees and he left the room and came back with a female doctor.

I asked her if I could get water and use the restroom and she replied to me, “oh so you’re the reason I am over here, they pulled me away from a little girl who was hit by a car and is probably going to die because of you.” And I just sat down on the floor crying some more and drowned her out. I looked up and there are about 4 or 5 guys all in white grabbing me from my feet and arms trying to pick me and I started to freak out and more show up and force me onto a bed as they change me into a hospital gown. I realize that I was being restrained from my ankles and wrist and then I feel a sharp pain stabbing pain in my lower stomach area and I cried out and the doctor told me, “oh I know you have to pee that is why I brought you this and shoved a catheter up there.” My pee would not come out so she then pushed down with all her weight on my bladder so my pee would come out and when it did she said “there now you can stop crying.” I see the police officer leave and I am being pushed into a new room and the next thing that I know I get an injection and I wake up it is 4 or 5 am the next day.

(I have not shared with anyone what happened and never asked them why I was not picked up when they knew I was in the condition I was in)

I woke up and cried out and a nurse came to remove the catheter and I was not wearing my clothes and I asked for them and me and if I could leave or if I was arrested. I was told I could go. I asked for a phone. I called my mom and asked her to come and get me and she said no that I needed to stay there and I told her that they told me I could go and she said no I had to stay there and hung up on me.
I got dressed and walked out. I crossed the street onto Orange grove and I see a couple sitting in their truck at a del taco and I can not clearly remember how it happened but I was offered a ride and or a cigarette and next thing I know I am in the truck and they are driving me home since it was cold and wet because of the rain from the night before. I get home and I did not have the key so I am yelling for my family to open the gate but they won't and my dogs manage to get out of the gate and in my final attempts to get my families attention I throw my sandals at the door and there still no answer. All 3 of us get into the truck. Somehow we ended up in Covina picking up drugs and then the couple starts to steel mail and I told them I did not want to do it and to let me out and I just got out and they drove off and left. I got off barefoot with my two dogs no phone or money, but I had drugs but I still wanted to cry because I wanted to be home, but that was the last place I really wanted to be at, but either way, it was my only option.

At this point, it was about 7 or 8 am. The streets were still empty, I lived in Covina for a year and slightly remembered the area, but I did not know that exact area of where I was at. I just knew I did not have shoes and that Pomona was East and so I headed East. I walked into an old lady who was on her way to church, she gave me water and allowed me to use her cell phone to call my mom. When I called my mom I told her I was in Covina and that I was barefoot and had the dogs she just began to ask questions and when I finally asked if she would come and pick me up she coldly said, “no” I told her I would wait at the church and she still refused and I hung up. My mom called back and I could hear my sisters in the background and my mom spoke to the old lady and she told the old lady that she still was not going to come for me so I just continued walking East. By around what felt like midday people were already out and about and I was on around Barranca Ave.
I could feel everyone stare at me as I carried one dog in each arm and their eyes would move down to my bare feet. I did not have any money and could not get the bus if I wanted to with the two dogs and I was hungry, and I could tell the dogs were hungry and thirsty too. I began to ask a few people for change and I managed to get about $5 dollars and went to a Chinese restaurant and got a bowl of white rice and 3 cups of rice and me and the dogs had breakfast and lunch together at an empty grass field and processed to keep walking. I found a shopping cart and used it to help me carry the dogs and when I was near Ikea a man came down the grassy hill from the hotel and asked me if I wanted to sell my dogs I answered no, asked him to use his phone to call my mom for a ride. After my mom told me once again that she was not going to come for me I started to cry even though I was trying to hide it but the man began to pray over me and told me that he could not give me a ride because he was about to give a sermon but that he did have some old shoes for me to have and we parted ways and I kept walking.

Somehow following the streets and just headed East I found my self walking alongside of the 10 freeway and there was construction going on so there were no dividers between the traffic and myself, which was terrifying but I still continued on. Because of the construction, I was lucky and was able to use porta-potties. Passing cars lit my way along with the moon and the cars honked but nobody stopped. Finally, I made it to the point where the 71,10 and 57 meet and I chose to head down what I thought was a small hill towards Cal Poly and it was actually a big hill that I slipped down from and got full of mud and stopped because of offense. I tossed the dogs over the fences first and then I jumped over and kept walking. It began to rain and the few people who I walked into I asked to borrow their phone and was rejected but finally, someone told me yes, so crying, soaking wet, full of mud, tired with the two dogs called my mom to pick me up and she finally responded with let me see if your dad wants to go.
Since it was raining, I told her I was going to keep walking and when they picked me up I was on Holt. The minute I got into the car my dad starts to yell at me and I tried to get out of the car but the door was locked and my mom then asked me if I was hungry as we passed a donut shop I told her yes just buy me donuts and ill be fine. We stopped I got a dozen donuts and when an older lady stopped me to ask me for change and I told her I did not have any but I could give her a donut and my parents both saw me giving her a donut they both started to yell at me to get in the car and the scolding continued all the way home as I silently cried in the back seat. When we arrived at the house I just laid down and I felt as if I slept for 3 or 2 days straight. I could not walk for about a week because of the cuts and my blisters on my feet.
To this day I do not know why my mom refused to go and pick me up the multiple times that I asked for her to pick me up. She knew I was barefoot, not emotionally, mentally stable, just found out a loved one committed suicide, I kept asking for help which I never did, and it would of not cost her much other than a few minutes of her time and gas to pick me up and she chose to leave me alone in the state that I was in.

written on Thursday, July 9, 2020, at 10:26 pm

Feel like I am in a story that only they know how it will end and what happens next. Nothing I say or do will change a thing. The hurt and anger eat me up. I quietly let someone new fill in the shoes of someone new to push me around without even noticing it. In an old journal of mine, I opened the page and I just read the line, “trying to heal in the environment and the lace that placed a role in damaging different versions of me. The place where I experienced so much trauma all feels as if it was one cruel joke, or I need to see it as if a positive thing like a change was. To see how strong, I could be. To see how much I can take. Maybe I am just psychotic or just plain lost it now, I cannot change what happened and I feel insane knowing that I still have not gained control over myself and my life and I wonder if I ever will regain control. 

 

All the things that suffocate me for example the fact that I NEED and have my family around me bothers me and other days nothing ever phases me. to be honest, I lie to myself and say that I can control my emotions and thoughts, but I cannot, and I do not. I lie that I try to believe. I am not comfortable or at ease at this place that I am supposed to call my home once again. I must hold my tongue and thoughts for the fear of getting sent back to jail. I try to live in the present, but everything feels as if was a trigger for me, especially being here at the house. At this supposed home that feels more like a prison. I have never felt so alone, even when I am surrounded by people that are my family. There are days that I feel way too much and feel like I won't be able to stop crying and I know it is a lie but I tell myself that maybe this will all change tomorrow, maybe it all gets better.

At “home” I stay quiet out of fear more than anything what kind of way of living is that? The idea of jail or even being kicked out of I speak up, speak in a tone that is not in their liking, a simple argument, in their eyes will be enough of a reason to justify me being in the streets once again or being back in jail once more. How can I be me or even feel like I am getting back to “normal” when I do not have a voice or opinion. Voiceless, option-less, restrained, kept within the walls that are supposedly meant to be my protection, walls made out of love to be painted as protection and as if it was a sanctuary but it all feels as if it was the “home” that I had with Anthony. That home was not I home and this place won't ever feel like a home for me regardless of how much time goes by. The doors were closed on me and that forever changed my life. Let me go back a few years and my version of events.

 

I always stayed as friends houses instead of being at home whenever I could and when I started to date Anthony it was extremely quick before I moved in. it was completely his idea of course. When the abuse began I left him and out of fear and shame I would sleep in my car because I did not want to go back home and face my family and what they had to say. I managed to stay away from Anthony but he always somehow managed to show up where I was at because of OnStar. He managed to access the login and my email address and OnStar could not do anything about it and he even had the spare key so when he located the car with the OnStar app he was able to start, and open the car. I would not go home because I did not have him show up at my parent's house and then have to deal with him and them there so I stayed where I could from friends places, hotels, streets nowhere just drove around. At the time I was not working but I was doing what I had to do to make the car and insurance payments. The car payment was coming due and Anthony contacted me and was able to convince me to meet up with him because he had some money for me and that he would return my laptop and my phone that he had stolen from me. Reluctantly I went and as always, I had my dogs with me Leto and Jax, but I refused to go inside the house or get out of the car. Anthony then used the spare key to open the car and get Leto out of the car and ran inside the house through the back door. I went inside and then managed to convince myself to get some food with him and the next thing that I know I am sitting at the dinner table eating and I start to feel dizzy and light-headed and I try and stand up but can't. The next thing that I now see it is morning and I am woken up by Leto and Jax trying to fight off the Pitbull Molly that was chained up to the back patio door. The front door is bolted shut, my phone is gone, my car is gone, he’s gone, the house is empty, the couches are all blocking the windows as if they were barricade’s the house was full of fleas. There were no light bulbs anywhere all the wires were out from any electrical outlets. I was stuck there for weeks. He forced me to use and some of the drugs I did not even recognize. The voices told him to do things to me and he recorded me 24/7 audio and video recorded me even when I went to the restroom. If I tried to leave a fight would break out.

Without going into too many details with the relationship that was hell that I lived through with Anthony there was: him interrogating me with the lights and flashes telling him and verifying if I was telling the truth or not. Him forcing me to say awake for over 7 days at a time. He cheated on me with guys, girls, trans. People showing up while he was in jail threatening me, checking up on me. Him threatening and hurting my dogs to hurt me. Stealing money from me and using my cards for himself and other people. Him stealing things from me. If I would leave walking, he would follow me for miles and miles. He would try and crash my car as I am driving. He constantly saying that he was trying to kill me and that he wanted to kill me. There were random cops searching the house constantly because of his history but his parole officer didn’t even do his job correctly or care enough to follow through with anything and allowed Anthony to get away with using fake pee and breaking all the rules that he was supposed to be following. He heard voices. He also had different personalities Destiny, Johnny, and a male 3rd one which I never got the name to. Therese were just some of the things that I had to live through while dealing with Anthony so you can just imagine my mental state the day that I finally managed to break out and leave the house in the car. He managed to take back Leto, one of the two dogs and I was fighting for my life and I was exhausted and so beat. I was soaked in blood, water that he poured on me, barefoot, bleeding from cuts and bites, crying. A total mess. I managed to have OnStar contact emergency services because of the help button on the car and at the corner gas station the paramedics, police officers from Whittier, Pico show up, firefighters show up and all surround me and are all questioning me and photographing me in the middle of the busy gas station. As I am being humiliated I asked the firefighter what Seroquel was and he said it was asleep aid and I told him that was what the voices told Anthony to give me. Then the only thing that I keep telling the officers is that I want my dog and spare key back and they ask me to drive to the house and next thing that I know Anthony is being dragged out of the house by 4 or 5 officers and being tasered and would not stop trying to run towards me and more and more officers kept tasered him until he fell on the floor. Once he was finally in cuffs and in the police car and gone, I was handed my dog and I just sped off. I had no idea where to go or what to do but the only thing that I was thinking was that I was going to have that monsters baby and I could not let that happen. I showed up at my male friends’ place because he always had money and borrowed money to be able to pay for an abortion. it was not until about 3 years later that I was able to finally pay my friend back for that money that he let me borrow in that terrible situation. But after my abortion, I was numb and so lost and everything that I went through was sinking in and I was on drugs and traumatized, and then a friend stole my car. I managed to get a ride from a friend and she could only take me as far as rancho and so I ask my sister to pick me up and she took about 2 or 3 hours to get me and I am completely traumatized, on drugs, screwed up, a mess, my so-called room is a total mess. All my parents tell me is that I need to clean up and that I need to get help. I need to see a DR. I need medication.

During this troubling time for me, my family attempts to deal with me by giving me contracts to sign and I refuse to sign them and so the city shows up, and then there is issues and notices about me living in the garage. One of the times that officers showed up to take things to the city dump I threw my shoe at a police officer and thankfully it missed because he ducked. Which I later apologized to him for. But days later I leave and come back home and my bed is in the street and so I sleep on the floor or the couch. Then some days later my dad tells me that I am going to get fined for living in the garage and that my time is running out. Then I get told that I am not allowed inside the house during certain hours. Then I am not allowed inside the house at all. If I needed the restroom, I was given a bucket and my key was taken away. There was someday that my parents would make me gather my stuff and sleep in the car down the street from the house so I would not sleep in the house or even tell me to get my things so they could take me to the shelter when I didn’t want to go but they weren’t asking me they were telling me. Some days I just got dropped off at the shelter where I was denied a bed so I would stay out on the street and did what I needed to survive. I was still able to get things from the house when I could so I would randomly come and go. Then one day I am walking towards the house in the morning and I told my mom that I was going to head to the house and as I am walking towards the gate there are cop cars there. The police officers already knew me, but they asked to confirm my name and then they serve me with a restraining order and told me I had 5 minutes to get my things. Shocked I was escorted to my room and grab things as my mom and sisters and the cops are just standing and staring at me and I get walked out of the gate and it gets locked behind me and I am trying not to cry.

A letter that you will never receive…

Be concerned when I am silent. When I am silent, I no longer care. That is when I have given up. My silence is a deadly sound and that is something regarding me that you will never understand.

Little by little I am losing myself. Yes, I am making positive progress in the norms of society's expectations of someone of my age. This so-called positive progress is the only side of me that you see. What progress can be said that has been done towards how I feel, my way of thinking, feeling whole, feeling happy, feeling normal, not drowning in guilt, have I regained my self-esteem? Do you even know if I even feel as if I was my own individual person, who can stand on her own? Or am I simply just getting further and further away from her every day with your help. I want to be free. Free to do what? I don’t know and I can not give any type of answer but the idea of knowing that I cannot simply do as I please or do whatever comes to my mind or see whomever I want automatically makes me feel like I am completely restricted as it is. The way that I see things compares to someone else is different compared to everyone else. Say for example a problem for any typical person can be measured from a scare of 1 to 10 at a 5 as medium yet if the exact problem is present to me that issue is at a 10. I can not explain why but I see things differently and feel things differently. This is something that I can not explain or even fully understand and can not expect anyone else to completely understand and accept. I do ask you to think about the following. Regardless of my actions causing the outcomes of situations sometimes I act out of impulse and actions and words can not be taken back so I take a step back and try to see things through my eyes.

The very idea of expressing my feelings and my thoughts, how I feel, how I improperly displayed my emotions all in the worst ways. But in my defense, not an excuse I was never taught how to share or show my feelings and thoughts. The few times that I did express any feelings it was already to the point where I was ready to explode, and every time it always ended badly. I got the police officers called on me. I got taken to the hospital and restrained and injected, I got taken to jail, I got hit, I got abused, I got pushed around, I got ignored, I got shut down, I got to the point where I did not have a voice and where I said did not matter and if my opinion was not welcomed, I was punished. Now it almost feels impossible for me to open my mouth and express myself, my thoughts, feelings, and ideas. Yes, easy to say that is all in the past. But how can someone just simply get over things like this? How can pain and trauma become undone without ever dealing with it?

The moment that I gather up any remaining strength, ask for help and get rejected makes shut down even more. I never knew how to properly ask for help. 

I had nowhere to go, my back was against the wall, nowhere to run, could not hide it all anymore, and was coming undone and was comfortable within the chaos that I found in the streets so I kept going back. 

You have always feared what you cannot understand and you will never understand the broken, battered, neglected, rejected, abused, homeless, addict, damaged, terrified, parts of me and your fear makes your grip grow tighter every day that you cannot even realize that I am slowly dying a little a bit more each and every day. 

I hope that you never come to know what it is like to live while you carry a part of you inside that, you pray and wish that would just fucken die.

Wednesday July 22,2020 at 6:41 pm

 

Can not stop overthinking. 

Trying to escape my own thoughts.

I know I should be stronger, and grateful.

I still dwell on the things that happened years ago. 

I do not know how to even let them go or forget them.

Reliving the days where I gave up.

I woke up tired and said that I would no longer fight you back as things came to blows.

I lost all hope.

Wanted to drown your demons so I made them mine. 

You are the reason that I slipped away but I am just as guilty.

You said you would never let me go.

My pain brought you life. 

I was your prisoner, but I am the only one to blame.

I was dying and you did not care. 

When I gave up and no longer fought you still did not care.

Made me hate my own reflection. 

The only way that I knew I was alive was when I felt pain.

Filled my skin with scars that will never disappear.

Scars that are daily reminders of the hell you put me through.

Now you are gone but the scars are still here. 

July 15, 2020 at 11:26 pm

 

How am I supposed to love myself when I never knew what love was or what it felt like?
I lie to my self and cover up my scars, pretend, and if nothing hurts at all.

Breathing in poison just to feel alive is not a life at all.

Tell me how I can live when I do not even feel alive.

At times I try and retrace the steps that lead me to this the excuse I call life.
All the choices and mistakes I made just overwhelm me.

I can not remember how it feels like to feel something.
Do I deserve this?

I can not hold my head up simply because all my past drags me so far down.

They say, “the truth sets you free” but it is just a fucken lie.
It makes you feel as if you lost your mind and makes you cold.

My past has all caught up to me.
Do not know how to process the memories, thoughts, and feelings that arrive with the memories.

Wednesday July 15, 2020 at 11:06 pm

 

I struggle with the same thing that kills me.
I lie to myself and pretend that I have it under control.
But it is the one who controls me.
I play pretend, lie repeatedly to myself.  
Try and function as if I am not fucking up again but everyone around me knows the truth.

Try and escape simply because I am too weak and a coward.
Too weak to fight this battle with myself.

The truth is that I am simply scared of what is to come.
Terrified of facing myself when I come down.

Is it an addiction when you are making the choice to let it in your life?

I look in the mirror and quickly look away.
Cannot keep my eyes on my own reflection.
Because of fear and self-hatred.

I am in denial of my role that I played to simply have my life slip away.

I gave up and without a real fight.
Blinded by the poison and the lies that you called love.

I no longer felt anything, an empty shell of who I once was.
Long ago, I was the person who would not back down or be told how to live their life.

Until I was introduced to love and a piece of glass that would shatter my life.
I am not sure what became stronger the pain that was called love.
Or those pieces of glass that became crucial.

Because of shame, I point the blame at you.
I blame everything else, but the person I in the mirror.

It hurts to think back on all that I let go of and took in.
Failed to realize that I was not living.
I was slowly killing myself.

Every time I sit and look at my world from behind that piece of glass take one deep breath.
Praying that this time I forget for a bit longer.
But I lift that glass once again to hide from the world yet again.
Like the coward, I have now come to be.

July 15, 2020

 

Never thought I would be that person who lost it all because of drug.

Never thought I would befriend the devil and stand at his side.

Never thought I would become the victim without a purpose.

The world I created crumbled down like a house of cards. 

That so-called love all it brought was pain.

Never thought I would have to fight a war again myself. 

Ashamed to say that I tore myself apart.

I still find myself attracted to the pain. 

I reopen old wounds trying to feel again.
I know it will all end the same way.

Lie to my self and say that I have it all under control when I know it is all a lie.

Every time the sun rises, I feed myself that lie once again.

 

Wednesday July 15,2020 at 10:38 pm

Everything that was done could be said that it was done out of love
At times I feel as if it comes from hate.

I still cannot understand everything. 

Everything that is inside of me 

All that I lived thought it still eats me up. 

Sometimes I do not feel alive. 

At times, these scenes or memories play out in my mind, as if they were from a terrible movie.

Then I realize that these are moments from my life. 

I cannot accept them all, I don’t want to.

I cannot understand what lead me to some situations or some of my actions. 

How can I accept what I do not understand? 

Often, I wonder how much longer I can go living the lie that I live now.

After everything, it is easier for me to share with a stranger.

Than with someone that someone I share blood with.

Some days my own thoughts scare me. 

I cannot accept something that I cannot understand. 

I cannot understand something that I can not accept.

I lost my reason, my mind, and my way. 

It was not until then that I never felt so sane.

Life has shown me how ugly it can get. 

How can it break you down and drag you so far down? 

Not sure if I was living or dying back then.

Or if I am dying or living now.

Every action has a reaction

 

Written on Wednesday, July 15, 2020 9:06pm

I have shut down and shut my family out because to me the door was shut. And my family washed their hands of me. Them getting the restraining order, the shit-talking, the notes, the words they said, and their silence all showed me how they did not care, and it hurt in the worst way. The few times that I did ask for help I just got shut down. Yes I know that I was very difficult to deal with but despite all of my bullshit I would say and what I would do it was me reacting and not knowing how to properly express, share, communicate, or even speak up about what was going on especially to my family. The uncomfortable time that I managed to speak up and, in my way, ask for help and get a response of “why you are already rotting from the inside out” completely makes you shut down.

I was hurting in so many ways but never gave my self that time to cope or to process all the things that I lived through. The pain, hurt, hate, damage, trauma everything only slightly subsided temporarily when I was high and so that is why I kept getting high. I know that once I chose to get high, I made the choice to get high above everything else. Long ago I was sane, happy, okay, even slightly stable but then I met Anthony and I was so naïve that I allowed Meth into my life. Meth suppressed some feelings that kept hidden and gave me a temporary peace and a euphoria but even when I wanted to stop, I could not stop.

I know that my family did not know how to help but in the ways that they did try they used the wrong approach. From the stupid contracts. To leave me outside of the house. To send me to jail. To me living in the streets and then being told that I did not have it too bad because it was summer still makes me upset today. Some days those rise and consume my mind and bring up all the resent that I try and bury inside of me. I was left alone, without a home or a place to lay my head. They did not even seem to care. They may say that they did care but I went on alone so in my mind and in my heart, I was all alone.

I lost myself and my mind.
I did not even know it.
I pushed all the limits but did not even know it.

The days that I went without eating still haunt me and bring my pride down.
The way feel I force it back down and keep it inside.
I feel as if at any moment the door will be shut once again.
The idea of having the door shut again, makes everything feel temporary.
As if I am disposable.

I was thrown away.
I went crazy, lost my mind while I was alone.
I was facing a fight that I knew nothing about.
Needed help that I could not get but I was too blind to see it.

Maybe things would have been solved in a much simpler or a different way, but it is a shame that they were not.
Now, I can’t bring them up even if I still have unanswered questions. 

Disassociate

Somewhere, somehow between your piercing stares and the ever-surrounding the silence where you refuse to say that it will be okay. 

It is easier for you to remain silent than you tell me that you still love me or that you care.

Do you know what it is like to not even recognize the reflection that stares back in the mirror?
Can you tell me what it feels like to have everything inside you die?
Can you describe a time in your life where you found out that something was a lie, now imagine What it is like to realize that everything you came to know what simply a lie.

The days that I feel as I am too weak to even get out of bed
Are far too many.

What does it feel like to have your soul beaten out of you?
Have it ripped away from you by the one you loved?

Have you been so willing to pay whatever the price was to have things as they were before?
Even if it meant you sold your soul to feel alive for simply one more time.

But that is simply something that will never happen

Broken down, faded and lost left one manipulator to fall into a web filled will many.

How can some days feel as if I was still in that prison that was labeled home?

Forgiveness and Acceptance

Feel as if everything was stripped away 

Ripped off bit by bit 

I crawl to pick up the scraps of myself that I left behind 

I'm facing the truth and the things I have tried to ignore  

The loss, time lost.

The pain, wasted love.

The failed attempts to help my self.

The lack of effort or maybe it was a lack of hope. 

I face each and every past mistake that I tried to ignore

Every old wound is reopened and feels as if it bleeds every day 

I can't stand the sight of my own reflection 

Then to be watched in failed attempts to protect me or more like protect yourselves 

The last chance you said 

I never felt so surrounded by strangers than now

Alone in my so-called home

The life and the person I was, will never be found.

 The old wounds and unresolved emotions have become resentment

Don't need your subtle and every watching eyes

I close my eyes and wish it all away 

But Karma wants me to know her name.

Open letter...

To those who care and want to help,

Regardless of how you may not like to even hear me mention his name,

I understand why.

But, you do not seem to understand that, he was a big part of me. 

Who I was, who I am, who not to be, who I could be… but he is gone. 

Thankfully, I am still here.

What you may not like to hear or know but there were good moments in the sick and toxic relationship.

There were moments where maybe they weren’t real because we weren’t sober, but we weren’t always high so I know we had some good and sober moments between us along with some bad ones. Unfortunately in your eyes, all you knew about were the bad ones. 

There’s a lot of things that I went through and haven’t dealt with and maybe never will fully deal with them or accept or understand them, but I accept that those moments regardless of how terrible they were or how magical they seemed, those moments were a part of my life.

I am not scared to face anything after everything I have been through, but I do not want to experience anything that is not a good, happy, wonderful moment ever again.

As much as I wish I didn’t think about everything that has happened from my choices and because of Anthony or think about things that happened here in the house, unfortunately, those ugly thoughts consume me on some days and I am struggling to get better I am trying but those terrible thoughts consume me and feels like as I can’t continue but something keeps me going.

However, there is not a single day that I do not think about him.
The memory might not be a good one or maybe it is but there is always some memory that crosses my mind throughout the day and some days I find myself missing him.

I don’t know if I’m still searching for that closure I wasn’t meant to get or I just miss all the perfect times that were painted for I and I miss simply the idea of someone who was not real but the bottom line is that I try and hold my self up and I can’t on some days.

I want to visit him and the 4 walls we called home.

I know if I go I will breakdown, but it may help me or hurt me, but it is something I need.

There is a lot I need to face, and I went through things alone and I must face them alone as well.

I won’t know unless I try and it’s not up to anyone but on what I feel or want.

I may not get what I want but does not mean the waiting goes undone

But the burdens I carry are mine and mine alone to carry on my mind and heart.

I want and probably need this visit and need to face things and memories.

There are things that the family or you who cares about me would not be okay knowing about or even taking me to see Anthony, but we are different, and I am special, complicated and my needs and wants are different.

Somethings such as visiting Anthony may not sit well with you but that’s why we are different, and I can’t do things alone, but I sure do try… so that’s why I ask for a ride to go see him. I know you may not want to take me, but I feel like it is something I need.

“If I’m wrong at least I know that I’m half right” so I will do what I been doing, pick up my pieces, and keep living.

So, don’t judge or question me just understand that I am asking because I need help and who and what I want will always be different from what you might want or need or even perceive as good.

So, if you are worried, don’t be.

Be worried when I stop asking for help. 

lost

Feels as if my life is racing past me 

Trying to catch up with my own mind 

Wonder if my heart can ever match up with my mind

Emotions rush over me feel as if nothing can hold them back

It's becoming impossible to play pretend

Where my heart usto be is an empty and dark hole

My days just fade away from me

Can't seem to catch my breath

I know that you hope that I am happy ...

I wanted to stop the war that was inside your head.

as you fought to survive the night, I fought my mind to stay.

It took me years to feel alive without you.

I stayed as you tore apart my soul.

It's hard to understand why I can't call you and see how you're doing.

You promised me you would always be here for me.

Just another promises you did not intend to keep. 

There are days where I feel like falling apart and I remember that deep down inside you always wanted me to live a happy life even if it was without you. 

There are days when I feel like I can't take any more reminders of you but one of our many songs plays as if you were speaking to me. ... 

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