“It’s all in the mind.”

― George Harrison

I had an epiphany a few nights ago and the thought has been rattling around in my brain ever since.

I never realized how my relationship with my family has colored so much of my relationships with other people.

If I were being honest with myself then I’d admit that I feel as if I didn’t get enough love as a child. And its left me with this. . . Void. And I keep trying to fill it with other things, other people. I try to conform to someone that could be loved, all while keeping myself distant from everyone, giving the illusion of being attainable while remaining unattainable. It’s like I’m being both myself, the abused, while also taking on the characteristics of my abusers, as armor.

I thought of Batman as an example. He loves me in his own way but not the way I need, wholly and completely. He keeps a piece of himself separate from me when I love him with all that I possess because with him, I don’t want to hold anything back. I want him to see me but instead I find myself in the familiar position of yearning for his love, not dissimilar to how I longed for my mother’s. I never got it. To this day, I don’t feel as if she ever come close to loving me. I can’t believe I’m in the same boat, trying to earn Batman’s love and approval.

And I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged at any one place. Lately, this feeling of not belonging has intensified and I’ve begun to isolate myself from almost everyone. My social anxiety is through the roof and interacting with people has become to feel like a chore.

Each time I’ve found myself in a rut, I’ve managed to claw myself out. This time. . . I haven’t the energy nor the desire. When I’m alone, I feel safe. No one can disappoint or hurt me. No one can withhold their approval or love if there’s no one around for me to try to impress.

I just feel as if I’m in this endless loop and I just want the cycle to break at least once. At least once, I’d like to reach a high and not come crashing back to this devastating low, wiping all traces of any happiness I’d had while above ground.

I hate depression, I hate anxiety, and I fucking hate PTSD, excuse my French.


The Journey So Far. . .

“You can drag my body to school but my spirit refuses to go.”
― Bill Waterson

Well, I’ve officially been in my apartment two months so you could say I’ve settled in. I’m in that stage where the bare walls are starting to get to me and I’m imagining them covered in all kinds of pretty decor.

I’m also in the stage where I’ve reached the end of my rope with working two jobs. I’ve begun the process of leaving one of them. I’ll probably be putting my two weeks notice in by the end of the week.

I haven’t flunked out of college yet, just barely. School. . .  has become a chore that I’ve grown tired of doing. I keep hearing the phrase “college isn’t for everyone” and I always thought that that’s what people who couldn’t keep up in college said. I guess I’m one of those people. It’s. . . difficult to focus on school and prioritize it when I’m in the real world and I have an adult-ish job. I work in a pharmacy as a technician. I make decent money. I have my own place and my own car. And I know so many people that have graduated with my major and are still looking for a job in that field post-baccalaureate. At the moment, I have a hard time seeing the benefit of school.

I’m just trying to avoid being discouraged and keep my head above water. Batman has been real supportive and encouraging, despite the complexity of our relationship. Lately, I’ve been leaning on him for emotional support, more that I’d like to. But he’s been my rock, my only constant. I don’t think he gets why I’m reluctant to let him go. When it feels like everything around me is changing, he’s been my one constant. Even when we’re not together, he’s there for me. That’s more than I can say for most of the people in my life. And I’ve only known him for two years.

I’ve already registered for the fall semester so I’m still hanging in, despite the hit that my GPA is going to take after this semester. It can only go up from here, right?


Do Not Think

“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.”
―Edgar Allan Poe

Sanity. Sometimes I feel like I’m holding onto it by a thread. A thin, threadbare thread.

That thread. It is composed of all the things I do not bare to think about. How can something so thin contain so much, I do not know. It defies the laws of physics.

Today I found myself thinking of the things I don’t think about that others have observed. It’s as if I wear my trauma on my sleeve. For instance, I never think about my aversion to touch. I didn’t realize I had an aversion. But aside from a few select family members, there are perhaps three people that I can bare to touch me, two of which I can’t stand for too long. Only Batman can touch me for an extended amount of time without stirring my anxiety and causing me to be uncomfortable.

Barriers. I’ve been described as distant, indifferent, and even heartless. I never put too much thought into how much I distant myself from others and the barriers I put into place. Sometimes, I don’t even recognize the person others are describing as me. She sounds so cold and lonely.

My future. I actually thought I think about it too much it. But I only think about the interim, the short-term. I never think about that vast expanse that stretches before me when the thought of my future comes to mind. It’s intimidating. Frightening, even. Because when I think of my future, I think of all the issues I have and how it’s going to take more than one lifetime to deal with them all. It’ll take several lifetimes for me to finally reach normalcy. I don’t care to think about that future.

Family. This one is intricately tied to my future because I don’t seem them in it. My issues coalesce and I see a bleak future without family or friends because I’ve isolated myself from them all. They grew tired of beating their heads against my impenetrable barriers. And I cannot bare the thought of punishing a child by having me as a mother. I look at my sister and I’m envious of her and the relationship she has with my niece because deep down I know I’ll never allow myself to feel such closeness and vulnerability with another. I’ll never have a child of my own. More importantly, she seems immune to the issues that I have despite having suffered the same. Perhaps it’s because I’m older and remember more clearly than she. I pray that’s the case and that she never regain those memories. I’d rather be the broken one than her. I’d prefer that none of them remember and I can do the suffering for them so that they can have normal lives.

The list goes on but today these were the ones that plagued my mind. Like demons, I had to exorcise them here. May my mind be at peace the rest of the day.


Heaven or Hell

Moonless sky. Phantom lips. Silken skin.

She came awake with a jolt. Her vision swam with darkness until the room came into focus. She didn’t recognize her surroundings. A threadbare room. Concrete walls. Limited natural light, the source of which she had yet to discover. With legs that shook, she heaved herself off the bed that seemed out of place in the nondescript room. She  frowned. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember where she was or how she had gotten there.

She glanced toward where a door should have stood. Nothing but concrete stood in its place. 



Just when I think I’ve let go, come to terms, coped, an echo of my past trauma proceeds to haunt me to remind me I’m damaged and abnormal.

Something mundane and natural forces me back into a different time, a different place, a different me. That clawing fear becomes a vise around my heart and the panic gets caught in my lungs and they attempt to suffocate me.

My mind becomes a weapon aimed at my soul. My body betrays me and my skin attempts to peel its way off. I become a war zone but who am I fighting?

There is no calm before the storm, no warning, no bright flash of light. Normalcy and then chaos. I become the maelstrom. It eats me alive until I’m hollow. Memories flash like slides on a screen, each one more painful than the last, leaving gouges in my heart.

Make the camera stop. Cease the storm. Take my body, tame my mind.

Make me normal again.