“At some point, you gotta let go, and sit still, and allow contentment to come to you.”

― Elizabeth Gilbert

I don’t want to blog about Batman anymore. It’s a closed chapter. But I do want to blog about this feeling I have because I don’t think it’ll last. I’m. . . . at peace. Content. After my appointment yesterday, I promptly packed my bags and drove home and slept over at my aunt’s house, my dad’s sister. I hung out and joked around with my cousins. It felt so normal and. . . . relaxing. When I told my counselor that I haven’t seen my niece since her birthday, she stated that I felt disconnected from my family. I guess she was right. I thought I’d be sadder or obsessing over Batman. Maybe it hasn’t hit me yet. Or maybe by being a complete asshole, he insured that that bridge was burned. I feel lighter for some reason. I certainly feel at peace among my family at the moment. Apart of me is relieved that it’s over. Another part wonders, “what next?” And a large part is of the opinion that this feeling won’t last and I’ll soon start missing him. I don’t want that. I don’t want to waste any time or space thinking or crying over him. He most definitely isn’t worth it. I want to enjoy being single for awhile. But. . . I also want Superman too. Not happening. But I kind of sense a shift in our relationship. Maybe it’s because he’s seeing someone else. But I was discussing sex with him and I felt slightly. . . uncomfortable. Almost as if sex isn’t a topic he and I should discuss anymore. That’s weird. It could be just me. But I think we’re becoming friends or at least I’m starting to see him in that light, despite my attraction to him. I guess my brain is wiring itself to accept him as off-limits. That makes more sense. For now, I guess being single isn’t so bad.



“Courage is not the absence of fear, it is the ability to act in the presence of fear. ”

― Bruce Lee

I don’t know why I didn’t update my blog after my appointment yesterday. My next appointment is May 10th. I guess it went well.  It wasn’t as terrible as I thought it would be. I actually kind of liked being able to talk about anything and have someone just listen. We talked about my past, my family, Superman, Batman, school, my job. I was free to steer the conversations where ever I wanted and when I became too overcome with emotion, I could change the subject or just be silent so I could gather my composure. My counselor.  . . . was nice. We talked about my past and she got why I didn’t initially like counseling. I think I blogged about how I kind of felt bullied by the lawyers and such to talk about my abuse. She just sat quietly and waited. No pressure. And even though the session was 55 minutes long, she said I was welcome to leave whenever I wanted. I stayed the full 55 minutes. It was. . . . therapeutic. I almost broke down several times. The counselor picked up on the fact that I still have a lot of. .. . hurt over my mom’s former treatment of me. I liked her. She was pregnant. I wonder if she was thinking about her own child being in my shoes. She was soft spoken too. She told me she was an intern and the next counselor I will see will be a full-time employee; that way I won’t have to tell my story several times to several different people. She got that I didn’t want to constantly relive it. I think she chose a good career and will go far in it. Too bad that was my last session with her. I wish her and her baby the best. May her child never go anything remotely close to what I’ve been through. She said she applauded me for being brave enough to come forward in the past and to still tell the truth today despite my mother’s attempts to browbeat me. There goes another person praising me for a characteristic that I don’t think I possess. Maybe one day I’ll look in the mirror and actually see a survivor, not someone that’s holding on by a thread.



“Why don’t you just pretend that the asshole dropped dead? You can’t call or write to a dead man. Put a couple of candles in front of his picture, say a few Hail Marys, and get it over with.”

―Isabel Lopez

I. . .  don’t know what to say. Batman and I are over. For good. Wow. Funny, he had told me he loved me on numerous occasions but I didn’t get that impression during our conversation. Basically I’m a burden and an inconvenience in his life. My intuition was right. I had just taken his key off my keyring and texted him we needed to talk. He called and. . .  the rest is history. I want to say I’m stunned. I knew it was coming but. .  . it was complaint after complaint. Not one apology, confession of love, not an ounce of affection. It was brutal and callous. I knew it was coming. He summed up our relationship in 3 words: sex, arguments, and aggravation. What the hell? I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know how to feel; the tears won’t come. I’m stunned. And pissed. Wow. Well, I guess there’s no question of whether or not it’s over.



“Even in times of trauma, we try to maintain a sense of normality until we no longer can. That, my friends, is called surviving. Not healing. We never become whole again … we are survivors. If you are here today… you are a survivor. But those of us who have made it thru hell and are still standing? We bare a different name: warriors.”

― Lori Goodwin

Something has to change. Blogging isn’t helping anymore. I go back and read posts of when I thought I was at my lowest and I feel. . .  weak. People call me strong and a survivor and. . .  I wonder where the hell is that strength that they think they see in me? Where am I strong at? Batman and I need to have a serious talk so I can know for sure where we stand. Something in me tells me it’s over and if it isn’t, I can’t lean on him anymore. He makes me feel weak. Who did I have to lean on before him? Myself. In the end, there is only me. No one standing at my side, no one holding me while I rock myself back and forth crying over nothing. No one to listen to me vent and rage and cry over the hand that I’ve been dealt. No one. In the end, I’m alone. I had always felt alone, even surrounded by my 4 other siblings while growing up.

My counseling appointment is today and I don’t even know what I’m going to say or where to start.

The sun isn’t shining and the roads are slick with rain. Even the weather mimics my mood.

I took Batman’s key off my keyring. I think I should give it back.


Don’t Read This

“Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. ”

― Carrie Fisher

Ever been tired? Not physically, but mentally. Or both. Ever been so overwhelmed with emotions that you couldn’t single one out? Left feeling. . . drained. I don’t know. I read previous posts and think that I’m pretty good at putting what I feel into words but right now. . .  words escape me.

My thoughts are churning. They go from school, work, family, friends, love life. I might quit my job. I might flunk out of college. I can count my friends on one hand. I still haven’t forgiven my mother. And my love life sucks. There’s my life in a nutshell.

Why do I feel torn? There is no decision to make. It’s already been made.

I’m not sure I like this format but I think it conveys my train of thought at the moment pretty well. If only I could make it more jumbled.

Maybe severing ties would have been easier. Now I feel like a voyeur. I only experienced a momentary pang of jealousy when my prom date asked my permission to date other women. I think my ego more than anything was bruised. I didn’t really care. This is different. I’m pissed, jealous, sad, resigned, tired. Does Superman have to move on so quickly? And do I really want to be with him? Maybe I’m simply jealous because I don’t want this new chick to take his attention away from me. I don’t like competition. I’m very possessive and I’ve already claimed Superman as mine. How the hell do I let him go? Do I want to?

These are all rhetoric questions. They don’t require an answer and hopefully Superman doesn’t read this. I want to pretend to be. . . . happy for him, just a little while longer. I like having him around. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I care that he’s dating someone else. He’s not mine.

Why can’t my brain just shut up? I have a math test tomorrow, a paper due Saturday, a speech due Monday, my Computer Science final on Monday and Wednesday, and my portfolio due Wednesday. Finals are the week after next. Damn. So little time. It flew by.

I miss the long posts of olden days when I had more to say or. . .  didn’t bother with censoring my words. I care about Superman. Probably more than I’m willing to admit which is probably why him dating someone else bothers me. It bothers me more than I let on. I am jealous. And I’m still in love with Batman. Batman. Is he worth it? Hell. I think a friend of mine told me today that neither are good choices, Superman or Batman.

I just want it to stop. To SHUT UP. I hate feeling like this. Damn. I can’t even say it was recent. I remember crying to my grandmother and telling her that I had a feeling something bad was going to happen. I might have been 10. Even then I was anxious. I don’t know. . .  I want to say “I don’t know how to feel” but I do know how I feel, I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. I’m supposed to be 100% in love with Batman and 0% jealous of Superman’s new chick, Frenchie. Or éclair. I’ll find a moniker for her. Bitch just doesn’t. ..  . seem civil. It sounds too bitter and resentful. I have nothing against her. I just feel like she’s encroaching on my territory and needs to back the hell up. I wonder if I’m this possessive of Batman. Not quite. He slept with two other women while we were broken up. I don’t think I really cared. Maybe because he wasn’t dating them. I knew he had no intention of entering a relationship so soon after me, if ever.

I think this is long enough. I don’t think it covers enough of what’s going in my head. It’s mostly Superman, Batman, and this math test I have tomorrow. More Superman than the other two. I think I got. . . comfortable with him. I’m used to having him around. I don’t know if I’d like it if I didn’t have him around. Oh. I added my grandfather on Facebook and messaged him. He didn’t respond. I’m not sure I’m all that surprised. I’m tired. My brain is tired. Thinking and thinking and obsessing won’t change anything. He likes éclair. He told me he thought she was prettier than me. Maybe that’s it! My prom date had never compared us. I thought I was prettier than her anyways. But Superman. . . . I asked and he told me she was prettier. I don’t believe it but. .  . I can’t help but wonder if she’s. . . better than me? I have issues. I have baggage. I often wondered why the hell Superman bothers with me. But éclair. . . . maybe she is different; nothing like me. Baggage free. Issues free. Hell, maybe she wants to be stepmom to his son. See what I mean by better? You know, that sounds kind of boring. Normal sounds boring. I guess I’m not attracted to normal guys. Something has to be wrong with them. There is friggin plenty wrong with me.

Now I just want to delete this whole damn thing. It just sounds. . . . like it was written by a bitter ex-girlfriend. Well. I guess it shows how much or how little I care about Superman. If I don’t post this. .  . . there I go censoring my feelings and thoughts for the sake of someone else’s. Or for the sake of my pride. I have a healthy dose of it. Well. I’m going to post it. I only have my pride to lose. Oh, and any affection Batman has for me. I do believe this is the most candid I’ve been in a while. I miss Batman. I went by his place today and I just got the impression that my presence wasn’t wanted. So I left like the coward I am. I didn’t insist on staying and talking to him about Monday night or how I feel or how he feels. I drove away because it was easier. Less painful. I didn’t want him to look me in the eye and tell me everything had changed. Something has changed. I can feel it. I’m done. I don’t want to talk about either of them anymore. I have a math test to prepare for.



“The worst type of crying wasn’t the kind everyone could see–the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived.”

― Katie McGarry

I want to give Batman and I some space, some time apart. But. . . . I have been down so frequently lately and I need. . . .  something. Him. A drink. A destination. I’m split between driving somewhere really fast with the music blasting or having a drink. After my last drunken experience, I’m leaning more towards driving somewhere really fast. Just the feeling of out running or out driving my thoughts improves my mood. Laying with Batman’s arms around me improves my mood too. He’s come to represent safety and comfort for me. I can’t lose that. I don’t want to but I feel such distance between us. . . . I feel like I’ve lost something but I don’t know what. How can you feel so damn sad and not know what’s causing your sadness? Is this what depression is? If so, it sucks. I just want to run far away from this feeling. I’m crying and I don’t know what I’m crying about. My counseling appointment is tomorrow and I might have to cancel it because I have to get the tag on my car renewed. When will I have time to do something for me? To help me get better? I can’t keep feeling like this.

Personal · Q&A

Asking All These Questions

This is my third post today and that never happens. But I don’t want everything to be all doom and gloom. And I told myself that one day I’ll do one of those get-to-know me posts, where I answer a bunch of random questions to allow my readers to get to know me. This is that post.

#1. What’s a nickname only your family calls you?

Leelee (that’s how I spell it), lele, or lee. My mom sometimes call me Layla to annoy me. I don’t know why I have that nickname and some of its variations. I remember asking my grandfather and he said something about his mom’s name but both sides of my family call me that, mom’s and dad’s, so I don’t really know.

#2. How tall are you?

5’2. I’m a shorty.

#3. If you could visit any country in the world, where would you go?

Scotland. I LOVE Outlander. I’m reading the books and watching the tv series. Sam Heughan is hot!

#4. Cats or dogs?

I love cats. I have one. His name is Smokey. But lately I’ve been considering getting a puppy. They listen to you! Smokey does his own thing. He’s a Siamese mixed.

#5. Favorite book(s)?

Identical by Ellen Hopkins, Captive in the Dark by C.J. Roberts, and On the Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta.

#6. How many siblings do you have?

I have 5 on my mom’s side; I’m the oldest. And I have 3 on my dad’s side; I was born third.

#7. Who are some people you’d like to meet someday?

Jim Carrey! He’s number one. I’d like to meet Sam Heughan, Jamie Dornan, Sandra Bullock, Cameron Diaz, and Kevin Hart.

#8. Are you a religious person?

I was raised Pentecostal. I believe in God and I attend church. So, I guess I am. But I’m not one of those people that try to shove religion down other people’s throats and I’m accepting of other peoples’ choice of religion.

#9. What’s your earliest memory?

It may not be mine; it might be a pseudo-memory or a memory of someone else. But I think my earliest memory is trying to walk while candy was being held out to me. Yeah, that may be a memory of one of my siblings learning how to walk. My other memory is being in Kindergarten, I think, and reading and memorizing those like 10 page books and reciting them for my grandparents. They were so proud. They called me “grandma and grandpa’s baby”.

#10. Do you like to talk on the phone?

Not really. I’m not too fond of the sound of my voice. A teacher once told me my voice was too big for my body. I’ll leave it at that.

#11. How many Pillows do you sleep with?

I have four on my bed but I usually sleep with my head resting on one, sometimes two if the pillow is too flat.

#12. Have you ever fired a gun?

No, never.

#13. What was the last film you saw?

Kingdom of Heaven, starring Orlando Bloom.

#14. What did you want to be when you grew up?

A singer, like Beyoncé.

#15. Can you solve sudoko puzzles?

No, I tried. I don’t get them.

#16.Have you ever sleepwalked?

Not that I remember.

#17. What was the last thing you dressed up as for fancy dress?

I wouldn’t call it fancy dress but I had to look professional for presenting my speech for my Communications class. I wore a skirt and a blouse.

#18. If you had to change your first name, what would you change it to?

I used to daydream about that. I kinda like my name now. I think it suits me. I don’t think many people are named Malia.

#19. How has your birth order/characteristics of siblings affected you?

Because I’m the oldest on my mom’s side and my mom was for the most part a single parent, so I had to be the second parent. Apparently it’s typical of eldest children but we usually get the blame for misbehavior, mistakes, etc. of our younger siblings. I think it helped teach me responsibility and owning up to my actions. But sometimes being the eldest is a pain. You can’t screw up either. You’re supposed to set an example for your younger siblings so I guess it puts more pressure on you.

#20. Are you more likely to avoid conflict or engage it head-on?

Depends on the conflict. I usually avoid conflict because I hate confrontations but it depends.


Until next time.