Like A Deflated Balloon

This is how it is. Filled with excitement and blurred happiness, then someone comes along with a tac and deflates you.

This weekend was one of the worse times of my life. I ma not married. I did not attend my grandparents 70th anniversary. My daughter was shunned by a man whom I thought loved her. I am not in love. I am barely alive. On the inside I am broken. Deflated.

Why did you chose THIS weekend to stand up for yourself??? Why didn’t you do it last weekend, next weekend, last year any time but when I was at the most peaceful time? I know the depression is my fault, I own that til the day I die, but for all the knowledge I have tried to give you, you own the triggers. If I didn’t have all these damn mental problems, I know I wouldn’t be in this situation, but I also know that if you had taken the time to understand them, we wouldn’t be in this situation.

Why did you make this all about you? Why did you make my sister cry because I ruined this weekend? What did she do to you? Why is my mental state about you? Why do you hold us to this idea of perfection when you know that we are the furthest thing from it? I love you and honor you and respect you, but sometimes we just need you to be our Mom. Not judge us, not get mad at us, not talk down to us like we are nothing. When you spoke to my son in that way, you triggered my childhood. I know you did your best in a situation that was damn near impossible to overcome, but did you not learn from the mistakes you did make? You have always been there for me. But you have never helped save me.

You….you are the ideal of perfection. You took on 2 horrible spoiled kids and made them your own. You now have 6 grandkids that I know for a fact they are more yours than any could be. 31 years later. 31 hard, long, horrible, hellish, lonely, frightening years later, I finally heard it. “I’m proud of you”. You for some reason, get it more than my Mom. All of the hell and sleepless nights I have put you through, you are still there, by my side now more than ever. Saying good bye to you this time was the hardest thing to do. I wanted to run after you. I needed that protective hug for just a couple more seconds. You are the only person in this world that I know would take away all of my pain and suffering. No matter what my blood says, YOU are my dad. You are the only one that has always been there no matter what.

I am trying SO hard to get back to my version of normal. This depression is just stuck in me. I need something. Idk what though.

Yes I do. I want my Dad.



I can’t explain this as anything else.


My parents are here, this is the first time that I have seen them since I have been diagnosed. I woke up this morning in absolute peace. I have such a calm over me it is scary. It is scary because I think that when they leave I am going to fall apart.

We seem closer this time. There isn’t an awkward silence between me and my Dad. We actually sat next to each other at dinner! I am usually down with the kids. It is like they are actually happy to see me and I have honestly never felt that from them before. Especially my Dad.

I don’t get it. This is what I have wanted to feel around them and with them my whole life and I finally have it! I don’t ever want to go back to feeling like my parents don’t love me and that I am no good enough. This visit I don’t think could’ve come at a better time. Just a couple of days ago I was really ready to just give up, not end it all, but not fight the sorrow anymore. Now, I feel almost the exact opposite. Even changed my mind on getting married. I really believe that my depression is influencing my decision making in a negative way and I don’t know how to separate that. It is really frustrating.

This is moving toward off topic. I am just amazed at how at peace that I am in with them being here and how different things are. I honestly couldn’t even be more pleased on how this is going. I am afraid to say that though. I don’t want things to end up going horribly wrong like always.

Too Much Is Just Never Enough

I don’t get why people think that they can throw everything on my shoulders and think that I will just handle it. Maybe because I’ve always put on a front that I can handle any and everything. Or maybe because there has never been one person that has let me fall on them, and they actually catch me. Whichever it is……….I can’t anymore.

How in the world am I supposed to hold down my job, bills, kids, a household, all my mental incapacitates AND everyone else’s shit? Why do I have to point out to anyone that it is TOO much? When is it time for anyone else to think “hey I probably shouldn’t say or do this to her cuz this might be the last straw”. Thinking that leads me to believe that no one really gives a fuck about me or anything that I go through. I believe that I should be surrounded by people that respect my struggle as I would accept theirs. But no. All I say and do is wrong. No matter the situation. It’s never good enough and I am always the reason that it fails.

You know I can accept my fails, my responsibilities and my decisions without blaming anyone else. Why the hell can’t everyone that “cares’ do the same? Why am I the blame for another adults actions? Like how?????????? Then I am the bad one when I need to escape. I have absolutely nothing left to give.

The Sea of Tears Behind the Dam

How is it that sometimes my dam is built like the Great Wall of China, other times like it is built of cotton balls. I am not sure what makes me cry and not cry. I can come up with a million and one reasons…..but the main one, I am lonely. I am so fucking lonely. I have not one friend that actually checks up on me if we don’t talk. My Mom, well, we only text maybe once a week, my sister, we text everyday but only funny shit. Same as the “friend” I do have.I feel whenever I talk about me, or my issues, the subject gets changed. Or I get the “I’m sorry”. I don’t have anyone to call and say I need you and have them show up. I have had friends when if the needed me I would be right there no matter what was going on. I have never gotten that in return. Everyone in my life is always too busy. I don’t reach out to anyone b\c I know that I am going to be rejected. I feel nothing inside, but then I am overwhelmed with sadness. I am so tired of being tossed to the side, or ignored. It’s like people think that they don’t have to help because someone else will. That someone never comes. It makes me cry all the time. I have so much going on with me and I feel so alone going through it. “You’re such a strong person” I swear if one more person tells me that! If I was that strong I wouldn’t need anybody, and I would be conquering this shit instead of letting it break me down piece by piece.

I can sit here and say I want someone to be there for me, but my deep thought is everyone just leave me the fuck alone! This shit is so confusing. If one was sad & lonely they would make it a priority to change that. Not me. I don’t think I even want more friends. My sister is the closest thing I think that I have to a friend and she is always too busy on her phone to have any kind of serious conversation. I just want someone to get it without me having to explain it and answer 100 questions.

I just can’t life anymore.

















A Happy Depression

Ahhhhhhhhh, if this doesn’t hit my life on a daily basis.

I should be completely content with my life. My kids are healthy, I have a good paying job, a man that loves me, a roof over my head, food in the fridge, a car to make it to and from, clean clothes, a family that will go to the end of the earth to help me, so why I am so sad all the time?

All I want to do everyday is take as many pills that I can to numb reality. My reality isn’t even that bad to hide from. My past in mixing in with my present and it is turning everything that is good to bad.

I just don’t know how much longer I can do this. I am so tired and physically and mentally exhausted from it all. I honestly just want to give up. it is now 30 years later of non stop pain and torture…..WHEN DOES IT END? When do I get a little bit of peace. Why was I the one chosen to go through some kind of hell every single day. I am so scared that my breaking point is near.

No one sees it. No one gets it. Oh it will get better they say…..WHEN? Just try not to think about it. HOW?? I don’t have anyone to talk to about this that just gets it.

Why did I have to go out of my way to help him and be there for him. I thought that he deserved a chance because it was never given to him. Turns out he is just like his parents. Waiting for the chance to fuck me. Letting me give my all just to throw it in my face. the biggest mistake I have ever made in my life was meeting and talking to that ass hole. I was in love and he destroyed me. He broke me. I let him in and he killed me in the inside and tried many times on the out. And she was his partner. I was good to both of them. All I wanted to do was help. Just like with their son. For that???? I have to take pills everyday for the rest of my life to manage the damage that they did. I have to avoid certain songs, certain areas, certain hospitals, certain foods, all because of these 2 people that invaded my soul.

I feel a breakdown coming soon and I am scared. I don’t want to go through that.I just want to be in my home, with my family, and my man that loves me with everything he has and just make all this past pain go away!!!! I want the memories to leave, and never come back. Who the fuck were these 2 people to come into my life and ruin me??????????? I can never be happy, I can never enjoy simple things. I am frightened that all this pain and sadness that won’t go away is going to make him leave me and I have no idea what I would do in this world without him. 😦 It scares the fuck outta me!!!!!!!!!!!

The Happiest Nightmare

I have never tried to get pregnant on purpose. Like clocking my ovulation, know the days when the chances are more likely than not, until last year.

November 2015, took a few home tests that were all positive. December 2nd, my god forbidden birthday, I start bleeding. I go to the doc. There was a baby, but now there’s not. Alone I rode the bus, alone I dealt with this. I was so happy December 1st. December 2nd I could’ve killed myself and not thought twice about it. This was the first time that I had lost a baby that was not my decision. Only one person knew, the father, but he was too busy that day and was in another state. After I found out there was a call made, there was an argument, there was me, alone, doing it myself. Crying to myself, hugging myself. Like always. There wasn’t even an “are you ok”.So here it goes again, on the outside I am good and strong. On the inside I am dying. How much more can one person take??

Easter 2016, another baby is created. By the end of April I had already been in the ER due to bleeding. I was so scared, it was December 2nd, 2015 all over again. However, this time he’s here, this time he is worried with me. The baby was too small to really see, but there was an ultrasound, and a faint heartbeat. It was ok though. This began one of the scariest pregnancies I had been through. My depression was at 100%, my panic attacks were real, my PTSD was unbearable. And he is there, but doesn’t get it. So unintentionally it is made worse. By the time I was 8 weeks, I had been in the ER 3 times and to the doc twice. I had a solid support system while in the hospital, but then none when life set in after. A full time job, full time Mom, a stressful pregnancy, the fear of losing this baby that I want so bad, the physical pain that is there that won’t let me move and the man that picks me apart. I was useless, I was lazy, I had no fight in me except for this baby. I was going crazy in my head and I had no one to fall on. There I was again, alone, as always.

November 2nd,  2016, regular doctor appointment. Driving as usual, it is a rainy night. We argue on the way. I am crying, a panic attack is boiling, the nurses want me to talk about it. I can’t. I just cry silent tears. My blood pressure results are sky high, they take it again, same outcome. I am rushed to get to the hospital. The word. That one word. Preeclampsia. Thankfully I get to the hospital and there is no trace of it. Relief swept over me. We are sent home.

November 16th, 2016. She kept me up all night stretching in my belly. Work is coming, my belly is aching. But it isn’t contractions.I am starving. A cheeseburger and fries. This is NOT common. Especially at 900. This aching keeps getting worse, and the pressure is unbearable. 1130 I call my doc, they tell me go to the hospital, again. I am 4cm, but I had been that much for almost 3 weeks. If I am contracting I can not tell due to the aches and pressure. I get hooked up to the machine, my blood pressure is too high for comfort. Preeclampsia shows it’s ugly head, but seems to be minuscule as they are about to send me home. For some reason they decide to monitor me and the baby for another hour. Contractions, 25 mins…..14 mins….3 mins…..3 mins…..and the blood pressure sky rockets. The urine test, yes I have preeclampsia, the blood work, it is confirmed. For our safety, she needs to get out asap. Wait, my baby is only 34 1/2 weeks! I am given magnesium for the preeclampsia which is said to make me drowsy. I am induced, it is about 1pm. I have not felt at one time tired. I get the epidural….around 130am I start feeling pressure. I tell the doc. I am now 10 cm and the baby is ready to walk out! She comes at 209am, she is tiny, she is beautiful, I get to hold her for maybe 1 minute and she is whisked away to SCU. Because of the magnesium I have to stay in bed(can’t even get up to pee) for exactly 48 hours. I will not be able to see my daughter until November 19th @ 209am. I do not sleep for those 48 hours. While he had to take care of the kids at home, there was alone time. I wanted my daughter. How can I have a baby and not see her? Not hold her? I did not sleep one wink…..finally November 19th at 210am I was brought to the SCU and got to see my baby. She was hooked up to wires, feeding tube and she was so tiny, but she immediately became the love of my life! It hurt so much to see her like that and to know that I couldn’t hold her. Just look and touch. I went back to my room and still, no sleep. At 730am my new nurse for the day came in and during our talk, I mentioned that the last time I slept was November 15th. I was told I should be put on a Benadryl drip later that day when I was ready to sleep. I went to see the baby again, ate, and then……….

My best friend, she was supposed to be at my wedding that Saturday, of course plans changed. Knowing what I was going through I guess I naturally assumed she would come to the hospital. Her man told mine that they were coming, I mean she IS my best friend and this is one of the hardest times in my life. Scrolling through FB I see a post of hers stating that she is going ghost for the weekend with her man, no phones no interruptions. I ask, this is a joke? She responds no. So no visit? No.With all that is going on I start crying, I need her, she’s my BEST FRIEND! My man was supposed to pick her up from work and take her and my daughter to her place. Things happened on our end and that ended up not happening. She texts and says she’s ready at 5. I tell her what came up and that the plans need to change. the IV drip has already begun. I get a text from her stating basically I am lying, she is going through a lot and she can’t see my daughter “like that” tells me not to respond. Unfriends me on FB. I send her a text saying we are no longer friends. I block her #, FB and anything I can think of and breakdown. Panic attack on 10. Why would she do this to me now???? At this time???? She broke my heart that day.

Another “friend” I promise to come see you…….nothing. My sister came as always, but she doesn’t really get my depth of struggle. I was alone, abandoned, as always. I just wanted someone that got it and I wanted my baby. I got neither.

My oldest son, who’s real father hasn’t seen him since he was 9 mons(he’s now 15 yrs), his step father who abused him and has been locked up for almost 2 years…..he now wants to say he misses him, needs him and is now depressed and crying. My other kids, I want, I can’t do that, no. Does no one in my life understand what is going on with me? Hw much does everyone think I can take? Why can’t anyone just be there for me and say “I got this” and really mean it without me having to run things from behind the curtain. What does it take for it to be just about what I need? And then at that moment, I needed everyone to be my backbone for once.

My daughter was having jitters, which could turn into seizures, she had 2 ultrasounds of her brain to check for blood, she had to withdraw off of the magnesium, then had to withdraw off the Zoloft, then had to learn how to be a baby. All of which was my fault. If I wasn’t so fucked up, she would’ve had none of these problems. And as her Mother, I could do nothing to help her.

Sunday, November 20th, I am in a drug induced sleep. 7am, cheerful nurse, cheerfully tells me I am going home. Hands me a depression form, needs it filled out before I can leave. No, I can’t. So I avoid it. My doc comes in, tells me there is no rush, take my time. He understands it is hard. I go to see the baby a few times, the cheery nurse comes in a couple times always with this damn depression form! I am not sure how much or how long I cried that day. How do I walk out of this hospital with no baby? She was just in my stomach 5 days ago. Now she’s not. She isn’t in my arms. She won’t be at home with me. How? How do I do this????? The crying and the depression is just getting worse. Her comes the cheerful nurse. “Do you need someone to talk to”? No. 10 mins later, a disconnected social worker. Please get out. I start packing up my things, ok I have to go, if I don’t do it now I never will. Depression form filled out. Question Have you thought about hurting yourself. Yes. That answer, as truthful as it was, turned out to be detrimental. Nurse goes into a frenzy, waiting in my room for 2 hours being told nothing. Finally a doc comes in to talk to me. Why are you here? The answer. Look, I thought about it yes, why wouldn’t I??? Will I go through with it? NO! My doc tells these people, look, she’s going home without her baby, she missed her wedding, she already has depression, she has children at home she hasn’t seen in 5 days….like HELLO!!!!!! So that was just the final topping to this horrible experience. All I wanted was my baby. I did not get to walk out of that hospital with her until 8 days later.

This experience was the absolute hardest thing I have ever had to go through. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat, but it did make it crystal clear to me how mentally alone I really am. If I don’t stay strong I will lose the battle. I have let people in my life that I will chase down to make sure that they are ok, but will put themselves first when I need a shoulder to cry on, which isn’t often. I carry a novel of problems, issues, stress, pain, heartbreak and guilt inside of me and try every morning when I wake up to make it seem like everything is ok.

When strong is all you can be………


A Dream That I Can’t Sleep Through

3 years…..3 years I have wanted someone, thinking that maybe one day we would be together, but knowing that as the years passed it wouldn’t happen. As many times as we had attempted, it was just never the time. To me he was as close to perfect as one could get, could always make me laugh, had life goals, the same drive as I, hard working, self sufficient, fine af, and the list goes on. We remained friends no matter what. I think that I fell in love with him the first time I heard his voice. We’re from different states, so it as love at first call, not site. From the way he talked, he was the exact opposite of every man that i had known.

3 years later we finally decide to give it a go. I wanted it to be different. I wanted me and him to be the exact opposite of all out past relationships. That is the vision that we both had. For a while that is exactly what we did. If there was an argument, there was an I love you regardless if the argument had ended or not. I loved him so much, i cried for hours when we had to part, if I wasn’t on the phone with him, I was thinking about him. My every second of every minute of everyday was him. It was a dream come true. He was my dream come true…….until he wasn’t.

I don’t know if it was me, and all my issues, and the whole transition of the way life was taking me, or if it was him, and all his issues and the way life was taking him, but somehow we lost each other on the journey. I understand now what the honeymoon stage is…..I believe that it ruins relationships. When it is over all that everything is, is compared to everything that was, and it is never good enough. Do you love someone any less after? Now……now it is just robotic. Making it through the day. Not talking, not good enough, not anything like it was. Did he push me too far? Did I not stop what I knew was wrong? Maybe I didn’t even realize how bad it was getting, until it was too late.

I don’t want to be the one that compares one relationship to another, I try my best not to take out my past relationships on the present or judge the future. With the PTSD this is a much harder task than one may think. The wrong thing said, a look, an action from the new can put me right back into the old. How can someone know that they trigger me when I am not even aware. And if there has been equivalent damage done at the minimum….how does that affect the way that I perceive the day by day. How can I not compare the two. How can I explain my hurt to one that doesn’t understand the mental that ignites it? How do I tell someone that the pain is constant, that one minute of hurt stays in me everyday. Should that change my perception of the way I feel the love that I have? Is the fact that I trusted someone who knew my past to not hurt me, but then did and it is justified in “I am nothing like the rest” How do you explain that no you are nothing like the rest, but the hurt I feel is exactly the same.

I want to be lost in the bliss again……I hate that it was taken from me. I want to cry of sadness when we part, I want to miss him every minute of the day, I want him to hold me and make me feel that nothing in the world can get to me, I want to be so secure that I know he would never hurt me………………………….but that was the honeymoon phase. That was before that one visit, the weird vibe, the one phone call. I was so close to be as happy as I can be, and now, I am just content, on some days. The strength that it takes to act like I am not hurting inside is exhausting. I feel that I have to keep on because I do not want to give up, I do not want this to be over, I am marrying this man. I am afraid that when I am saying “I do” will I be able to look him in the eyes and not think of all the words that should’ve never been said.


An unfit perfect Mother

I blamed my Mom for a lot of things in my life. If she hadn’t done this, I wouldn’t have done that, if she had just helped me more, I wouldn’t have been in so much trouble, if she had been around more, I wouldn’t have felt so alone. I never felt loved while I was growing up from her, so I never depended on her. I blamed every action and repercussion on her. Not once in my growing up did I ever take any responsibility for myself. It was always her fault. When I became old enough to understand that she was a single mother, not by choice, but because my real father left her for another woman, and never paid child support. She worked 6 days a week to provide for me and my sister. Well then I learned to hate him. She remarried, and in walks this man. Needless to say, my destructive path was already blooming. As I got older it got worse. I had no fear of my Mom or my Dad(step dad) and I did whatever I wanted. I left my parent’s house for good when I was 17, and moved to the city. Bouncing from house to house, I was homeless. Started gang banging, doing and selling drugs. Getting jumped by groups of guys, and girls, jumping on guys and girls, robbing people, stealing from stores, you name it. Not once did I ever let my Mom know if I was ok. The only time I called was when I wanted money.

I had a conversation with my Mom a few years back, she told me that after I left home, she prayed I made it to my 18th birthday…..that hit hard. But not hard enough. I continued on only really talking to her when I needed something, or after I started having kids when they needed something. I was never a good daughter because I thought she wasn’t a good Mom. A couple years ago, my car got repossessed, again I call her. She laid into me, telling me I only call when I want something and that good stuff. I hung up on her. Since then, I think I have barely asked her for anything. Well last year her and my Dad flew out for my son’s 8th grade graduation. Again it was tense. Nothing had ever been mended between me and my Mom. We got into it real bad. I finally told her how I felt. How shitty it is to be going through hell and her never checking up on me, how since I am not the perfect daughter like my sister I get treated like an outsider. How this weekend was supposed to be about my son and she made it about her, and finally that I didn’t think she loved me, that she only tolerated me because I was her daughter. Later that night she apologized and said she loved me. I of course blew it off. Thinking to myself it’s too late for all of that.

Since being a single mother of 4, and getting my head straight about a lot of things, my mind set is changing. It really hit me on Xmas, when my 9 year old made a present for his father, the father that has been locked up twice in front of him, the father that has never been there for him, the father that does not help with his kids one bit. There was no present for me. The one that walks and takes buses and trains to work everyday, the one that puts food on the table, the one that won’t eat so there is enough food for them, the one who helps with homework, the one who has never left their side, the one who always puts them first, the one that struggles to get them everything they need, and mostly what they want. There was not one thought of me this Xmas. That hurt so bad, I didn’t let them see it though.

As I sat in my room and cried, I thought about my Mom. I thought about all the times that this probably happened to her. I thought about how hard it must’ve been for her raising us alone. At that moment I forgave her for everything, even though she did nothing wrong. I got it though. The whole time I thought she was being an unfit Mother, while in reality she was being the perfect Mother, the best way she knew how.

38 years later, I finally told her yesterday how much I appreciate her and that I have no idea what I would do without her. Her response? “I have always been here” and she has. It just took me a long time and a lot of life experience to figure that out. All I can say is that through all my mistakes and blames, it is such a weight lifted off of me that I finally have that relationship with my Mom that I have always wanted. I don’t just text or call her when I want something anymore. I have to say I wouldn’t trade my Mom for anyone in the world.

An Invisible Presence

How can someone that is not in your life has such an extreme effect on your day????

My kids’ father, we have been separated for almost 3 years. I am going on 14 years of knowing him. He is married, currently locked up in another state with his new wife, and yet is still having a profound negative reaction on my life. How????

I get assistance from the state for daycare, for my daughter. It is the only way that I am making it right now. I do not have 700.00 to pay out of pocket for her. Our state daycare is linked to our public aid system, and you have to have your case redetermined every six months. Mine is currently at that state. I get a letter saying that I am going to get cancelled because it is showing in the public aid system that my kid’s father lives with me. In order to get this changed I would need to go to public aid during working hours, which is the exact hours I am at work. Yesterday was the cut off, yesterday was also an appointment for my 12 year old who we just found out he has anemia, it was for the specialist, first time appointment, I had to cancel. If I don’t cancel the appointment, get to public aid, get the system switched, get on the phone with the daycare, I will lose my funding. I get to public aid, I am called quickly, the case worker updates the system, I leave, get on the phone with daycare, tell them it is set, the woman walks my case over to the specialist, everything is al good. Right? Wrong. Get a call later from daycare stating that the system is not updated. She will give it til Thursday. Anxiety waiting game begins. All because my kid’s father used my address at some point in time and it got through to public aid. That is really not that big of a deal right? Simple. No.

Yesterday, I decided to go through a detailed report of my credit. $28,818.00 in debt, on my credit. $17,000.00 directly from him. The rest? Directly associated with him and things I was not able to pay, due to him. I also owe the government about $30,000.00. I was filing unemployment while working. He was either working and taking his checks, or taking whatever was in my account weekly, or not working at all. It was the only thing I could do to survive. Then I went to thinking of all the times I bailed him out of jail, fixed cars he totaled, paid for DUI’s, court costs, probation fees, drug habits………….if I had to guess, this man cost me well over $70,000.00. I will be paying off my credit and unemployment back pay for years just to get it fixed.

As I sit here thinking…… can he still be doing this to me? I want to move on, I want to be better, I want to be happy. Things that he has done just keep popping up in my life getting in the way of that. It’s like how much negative of an effect can one person have on your life when they aren’t in your life anymore??????

He has done any and everything he can to destroy me, whether it is direct or through my kids. Which yes he does. He knows if he hurts my kids, I hurt. That is was makes this even worse. My kids are fabulous kids. Through everything they have witnessed and been put through, they are amazing to me. Don’t get me wrong, they are not perfect, but I can honestly say that 85% of the time they make it so easy to be a single Mom of 4. I can sit here and say I regret meeting their Dad, but I can’t. Without him, I wouldn’t have them. I am the only constant thing that they have ever had. I am the one that never leaves. I am the one that makes sure they have what they need, I try to get what they ask for. They accept our struggle, they get it.

I suppose in that way I win. But in other ways………I lose. I still have to deal with the daily pain of the pure destruction their Dad did to me, and now dealing with even more past that he destroyed……..I have PTDS mainly because of him, depression, him. If he had not put me through the worst mental and physical hell that I have ever known or felt or witnessed, I honestly believe that I wouldn’t be as mentally destroyed that I am. And although he is out of my life, he still exists every fucking day.

An Unsorry Apology

Why do people think that “I’m sorry” fixes everything? Like do they actually think that saying those 2 little words will erase anything that was done. If I could get $1 for every time that someone did something to me and tried to erase it with an “I’m sorry” I would never have to work again.

The amount of times that I have heard that are ridiculous. And guess what? After all of those “I’m sorrys” I am still sitting here hurt. Physically, mentally, or whatever was damaged is still there. I just don’t get it. Instead of saying “i’m sorry” just don’t do the action that provoked this apology. How hard is it NOT to hurt someone that you love? I don’t know. Maybe I have a different way of thinking.

I wonder if it’s my condition that makes me this way. I can not get over damage with those words. To me those words are said, heartfelt or not, but then you turn around and BAM, you’re hurt again. And then another “i’m Sorry” It is a vicious cycle. Then the thought comes, well the I’m sorrys can not really mean anything, because another storm is coming. I wish those words were never invented. And people just had to stand up and be accounted for their mistakes.

Of course I sit here and relive whatever it was that caused the apology in my head. Because I can’t let it go, I’m not Elsa, I can’t turn things into ice. I can not just get over things and forget that they happened. I will keep it in my head and it will eat away at me.

I can not explain that nor admit it to anyone face to face. I can not and never will use my mental condition as an excuse to act a certain way. I will just shut down and keep it to myself. The pain will eat away at me, and eventually it will be added to the vault of horror(my secret hiding place for all my pain) and will come out when the thoughts break the vault open.

So no, I’m sorry is just 2 words. 2 words that can be said by anyone, at anytime, for anything. It needs to be understood that these are words. That is it words. An I’m sorry isn’t shit if the I’m sorry isn’t followed by I’m sorry actions.