Tag Archives: Love

The brain won..

How am I supposed to listen to the radio when every song reminds me of you.. 

How can I stop trying when I’m obsessed with you, when I’ve overdosed on your love already.. 

How do I breathe knowing you are my air, that’s no longer giving me oxygen..

Why do I do this, knowing I’m pushing you away further..

Why do I let my Anxiety get the best of me, every last time.

Why did I let you become my favorite obsession…

As A Young Mother…

To say I’m hopeful is an understand. I’m hopeful that when you’re my age, that seeing my name appear randomly on your phone won’t feel like a burden. I’m hopeful that the thought of hugging me isn’t something that make’s you feel uncomfortable.. I’m hopeful, that when you hear a pear say, “I have the best parents in the world!” that you don’t think of me and scoff at how someone could actually love their parent(s) their much. I’m hopeful that when you grow older, you’ll realize that I tried my best, and that everything I do is with your best interest at heart. I hope that you’ll be patient with me, even if you don’t show it, because I’m still learning too. I hope that you never feel like anything less than the greatest part me, because if it weren’t for you, my life may have never taken direction. I hope that I tell you the right things when you need to hear them, and that you don’t resent me for not knowing how/when to say things. I hope that you’re never ashamed of me, and never take the small things for granted. I’m hopeful that you appreciate experiencing things for the first tine, together, as much as I know I will; like Disneyland or maybe a cruise, the possibilities of where I hope we’ll go are endless. I hope that I can push you to do better than I have, that you actually give a damn about school and get good grades. I hope that I never crush any of your dreams and only push you closer to your aspirations. I’m hopeful that your wildest dreams are greater than my imagination, and that you let me do everything in my power to help you achieve them. I’m also hopeful, that you’ll never use my own words against me. But in the end, I’m just hopeful that you wind up happy and that your health is never anything short of spectacular.

 

 

P.S. I claim no rights to the photo below.

mother-daughter-10[1]

If I were asked to describe our friendship. .

I’d tell them that I simply can not. I’d say how I always want to be near you,  but when I am.. you drive me absolutely nuts. I’d say how I’m not into you,  but every so often just want you to pull me in and kiss you. I’d tell them that I care. How unlike many others, if you walked out of my life,  I’d be genuinely be hurt. I’d tell them that you’re not my first thought in the morning,  or my last at night, but never does a day pass where you’re not somewhere in between. I’d tell them how I can’t read you, that you’re a complete mystery to me. But above all, I’d tell them I wouldn’t trade you for anything. 

I don’t want to be like my mother. I love her,  but not her attitude. I try,  and try, and try some more; all to get the same result. Never do I hear “I’m proud of you” but,  “fuck off/fuck you” is becoming more common. In her eyes I’m never doing the right thing. I want my children to be proud of me, Never embarrassed or belittled by me. I want them to hear “I love you” every night. I can’t even tell you the last time my mom said she loved me. It’s Really been that long. It’s killing me,  and I think that’s why I’m so stuck on the future,  because it’s optimistic and bright;  a whole new world in my eyes.

Reflecting on my life, I never really could get it right. There was always quirks and twists. I hate love, and because of such have bad relationships with other people. I will always have mental issues; and although they’re easy for me to set aside most days… They still remain intact. My sanity on the other hand, does not. 

 

Personally, I’m a very stubborn girl. The hardest words for me to say are “I love you” “i’m sorry” and/or “I miss you.” For me to say any of them, you should feel special. Especially when it’s without hesitation, because I could not say those without meaning it. 

Take them and I’m gone.

As we all know, it’s colder than the heart of Satan outside. Where I live it’s been snowing and slick. The last couple days I’ve been sick with the flu and my insides have been inside-out. To top things off? I finally start being productive, just to be shot down by my mother. She gets home and immediately comes up to my room to start complaining. During the warmer months I was training my horse, we have 7 and a pony, but stopped because the weather was too harsh and I knew I could start again next time it’s about freezing. I’m busy with work and school, so I’d assume my stay at home mother would be able to feed the animals like she had been doing before. Well, apparently not, apparently she wants to get rid of ALL of our horses, dogs, and the pony. Those animals are my babies, my dogs I’ve had since a young age. Two their ages, one mine, my best friend as a child and now. The same pets that keep me off drugs and keep me home at night. Something to look forward to. 

 

But little does she know, as soon as she gets rid of them, she gets rid of me.Image P.s. not me pictured.

I’ll admit it, I’m a hypocrite on weight.

I always tell women how beautiful their figures are. I think plus sized models are GORGEOUS, they’re bigger but shaped in such a feminine, pretty way. I’m a rather thin girl with both large hips and breasts, but rarely am I thin enough in my own eyes. Here I am preaching how beautiful it is to be bigger, but I’m obsessed with my own weight.

 

A few years ago, about 5 of them, I hated myself and my life. I seen anorexia as beautiful. It was how I dreamed of looking, I never did become anorexic, but I did starve myself. I’d go without eating until I became dizzy and lightheaded. I ate, but not large portions.  More like, about half of what I should’ve. That was the easy part, the people around me never said anything because they didnt notice. I’m not blaming anyone but myself, but I wish I would’ve had my own view of beauty back in that particular portion of my life. 

Now, here’s the catch, I see my life and my body as beautiful. But I that number on the scale tell me if I’m good enough. 4-5 years ago I was the same height and weight, 2-3 years ago I grew an inch taller but gained 3 pounds. “It’s no big deal, it’s just that scale” I told myself. At the beginning of this last summer, I weighed myself and was yet another 5 pounds. I loved my figure until that moment, a part of me broke down, my confidence was melting. As a result? I lost 10 before school could roll back around. lately, I haven’t been working out at all and I’m slacking on my nutrition (which is surprising cause I tend to be a health freak). I know nobody else’s notices these changes because they’re very subtle, but it kills me. If I’m not perfect, I’m not good enough.

 

and that’s what makes me a hypocrite.Image