value impaired

i don’t value myself.
why don’t i value myself?
how do i learn to value myself?

case in point. yesterday i realized i had no idea where i had left the box full of my books i have available for sale should someone want an autographed copy.
i searched for over an hour, wondering what the fuck is wrong with me.
i eventually found the box being used to prop up my daughter’s doll house.
nice.
so how do i learn to value myself? why do i continue to make myself the lowest priority? the last person i will support?
fuck me.
(wait! don’t fuck me–be nice to me! believe in me, goddammit)

whisper campaign

i was getting a little too friendly with the world, you see. too butterflies & rainbows.
it made some cracked wheels turn inside me as my tragically introverted self,
my dark & morbid self, my inner brooding monster whispered in my ear,
“they all hate you; you’re such a cunt. why do you even bother?
go home. go to bed. hide in a book or better yet a tv show…just. hide.”
& i found my delight in my self-loathing. poking that bruise on my soul
as i covered all of the mirrors and windows and told myself,
“it’s okay. you’re happier when you’re alone.”

true story. this happens to me sometimes. i sometimes cannot handle being happy & friendly and stable-ish. i cannot handle being likable or successful in any way. it stirs up my demons and terrible things are said until i sink back into a gloom they are more comfortable with.

my fault

this was also written during a fight with dusty as we try & fail to move forward.
watch as i start to spiral downward….
alas…hopefully this was only a setback.

backwards III

sometime after writing this page, i started feeling a bit better. one step forward, three steps back.
hopefully i will get turned back in the right direction soon.

i totally kept fucking up this drawing, but instead of starting over, i just kept drawing until i felt like i got it right. i kinda like how it turned out. another reminder to myself that i am the result of all of my fuck ups…but that might not be a bad thing.

dark flame

when i was nineteen i went into therapy for the first time. i was dating a man who would lock me in his basement/bedroom to keep me from leaving. escaping is one of my go-to defenses, so this was pretty devastating to me. he was one of the most awful people i knew and i knew this before dating him–and still felt attracted to him. so i started therapy.

i was unhappy without knowing i was unhappy. i mean, i considered myself an optimist even though my mom said i was a pessimist and another boyfriend labelled me a nihilist…or was it a fatalist?

anyhoo. i was unhappy without realizing it. or maybe it was that i had hidden my happiness so far away that i had forgotten where it was. i was also afraid. ever since i was a little kid. terrified of the dark. so afraid!

but in therapy, one day, it felt like a miracle, i found my happy. and i was no longer afraid. i didn’t realize i was no longer afraid until later that day…or that week…when a lightbulb needed to be changed in a storage room in the attic of the rooming house i lived in. to whomever was with me, i said, “i can’t go in there. i’m afraid of the dark.” and then, without thinking, i walked right in, fearlessly.

the miracle felt like a glowing in my chest. i could feel it like i can feel myself blinking, breathing, my heart beating. i could feel it in my chest.

i confessed to my miracle-worker of a therapist that i was afraid i would lose it again. that it would go away. i compared my fear to the story flowers for algernon. where someone is given the gift of intelligence, and then has to watch as it slips away again.

she assured me that it was mine to keep.

and it has stayed there. i check on it. sometimes it is small & hard to find. sometimes it is bursting out of me.

lately i have begun to wonder if i can share it? can i spread it around? infect others with my own happiness?

i remember that i have at times infected others with my seething anger. pushing & pushing it out of me until it clings onto someone else and i am free of it….

two days ago, i accidentally pushed too much of my happy out and left myself empty.

yesterday i left my happy unprotected and allowed someone to crush it.

today i am recovering. wondering how to do it right. do i keep trying? do i hide it away again? i don’t want to ┬áhide it away anymore.

when i open myself up, i can feel it in my whole chest, glowing. a brilliant flame. it feels amazing.
so how do i share it without depleting it? without losing it to careless strangers?

darkflame1

this is not the person i am supposed to be

i feel like a failure.
what’s worse is that i feel like i am a failure at being a failure.
other people seem to be able to make a life out of failing.
i can’t even do that.
i want to tear a hole in the world with my teeth.
there is so much pain inside of me.
and when it comes out–
i feel even worse because i am causing pain.
i won’t tell you.
but i am a monster.
an awful horrible monster.
and that is not who i am supposed to be.
i don’t know why i am a monster.
i want to be a good person. a helpful person.
a loving
and nice
person.
i can see that person in my head.
but i am not that person.
i am a monster.
i can see in my head
the person i was supposed to be.
kind & nurturing.
not a complete fucking mess
so angry at the world that it tears me apart
and spills ruination on anyone
everyone
around me.

i tried to so spells
wear stones
to help me find balance
let go of negative thought patterns.
i failed.
i think i somehow charged the stones
to do the opposite.
now i am an even bigger mess.

i started reading jenny lawson’s book
furiously happy
which highlights her struggles with mental illness
you know
in a funny & heartwarming way….

fuck me
i am frankenstein’s monster.
i am
i wanted to love…
but all i can do is cause fear
and disgust.
an abomination.
i am an abomination.

i was once a sweet child.
a hopeful child.
but i grew into an abomination.

 

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