Days like today..

Its days like today that make me wonder why I still try to be or do anything, why I am still alive. Its days like today where I am unable to see the good in the world, to see the light at
14358759_557978631058165_4162404389811629166_n the end of the dark tunnel that has become my life. I know its such a drastic statement to make – “why I’m still alive” but I have accomplished nothing, I have done nothing and I feel like nothing. I am 26 years old in less then 2 weeks and the idea of being so old with nothing to show for it depresses me more than I ever thought possible.

I’m not suppose to still be like this, I went to the doctor, I got help. But it hasn’t helped.. nothing seems to “fix” me.

I’m told I should learn to forgive the people who hurt me in the past.. to move on from it. I hold a lot in, so many grudges, hatred for people who probably aren’t even aware that they matter that much in my life. People who have hurt me in ways I didn’t know was possible and in a way took away my ability to move on from the things that are holding me back. But its hard to forgive people and situations when you have had no closure, no opportunity to change who or what you are. Its hard to forgive people when you cant forgive yourself.

I am my own worst enemy.

I have done so many things in the past that I find unforgivable, so many things that I proclaim to hate are things I do or have done as well. I allow myself to become stuck in places and situations that are not helpful to anyone. I avoid things I should confess to or face. My entire life is a series of unfortunate events I put myself in. And maybe that’s it.. Maybe I am unable to move on not because of the things people did to me, but what I did to myself. I’ve allowed myself to be the victim of peoples torment, the quiet friend who does what you say, the push over, the one that’s afraid. I allowed situations that weren’t that significant to my life impact my life severely. I’ve allowed insignificant people to have the power to control my moods, my actions and I’ve allowed a certain person’s actions strip me of everything I’ve always wanted. I’ve allowed people to treat me the way they have because I hated myself so much that they’re actions and words proved what I already felt. 

I have no problem forgiving other people, I’ve even gone as far as accepting the guy who molested me’s friend request on social media – but that was before the weight of my self hatred crashed down around me and I felt the need to blame anyone else but me. I have forgiven and remained friends with the only guy I truly ever loved and imagined having a family with after B. I have forgiven old friends, time and time again, for things no one else would put up with. I have dug this hole around me, I have buried myself so deep that the only way I can move on from anything is to forgive myself for all the things I did, or didn’t, do.

But I haven’t learnt how to forgive myself, how to move on from the things that I regret and wish I could change. I don’t know how to make peace with my past decisions because through it all it has brought me no where, and nothing. I can’t proclaim that my past was just a lesson learnt, or that if it wasn’t for this or that I wouldn’t be where I am; because I know if it wasn’t for the things that haunt me at night I probably would be further into living, more alive then I am now. I know that without the things that are haunting me, the things that are eating me alive I could be happy. My past has done nothing but tear me apart, shown me who I’m not, what I’m not. My past made me untrusting and unwilling to let down my guard for anyone. My past lead me down the road of depression, of self loathing, of being 26 still living with my mom and working a shitty part time retail job, with no boyfriend and no kids and nothing of any substance.

There are days, like today, where I wish I could forgive myself and move on.







Sometimes, well… Okay most of the time I suppose, I wish I could turn back time.

I wish I could go back to being 14 and change my entire life, I wish I had been smarter, tried harder and maybe move slower. I wish I had been more open and honest with my mom at the time, but I was fed such horror stories about how “mean” she was to my sister that I feared she’d be mad at me for my mistakes.


I’m getting so tired – both emotionally and physically – of being so sad, so stuck in the img_7885past, so unable to move forward, so insecure and unable to be a “normal” almost 26 year old. I’m so tired of being alone. Its human nature to crave closeness, to want to be around someone. Cuddling helps soothe anxiety and can actually help fight depression – basically the needs we had when we were infants are the same as what we need and crave now, but this world is so scared to admit that. Myself included.

When did we become so unhuman, so bot like? Why do we glamorize and promote sexuality but fear admitting that we need a hug or to be close to someone. I don’t understand why and how we became so unable to express love the way generations before us did. I don’t get it. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the ways of this world though.






If, you were secure with yourself you would know your worth; you would know what you stood for.

I just wish that angels and fairy godmothers were real, i wish someone would tell me what to do and where to do it and how to be the person i was born to be. I want someone who will tell me to stop living in the past, who will show me that life has so much to offer and I am wasting a luxury many people were stripped of.

And yes I know that my life is mine to make the mistakes and choices for, and that sadlyimg_7881 its a dog eat dog world- or perhaps i should say an insect eat insect world because we are nothing more then tiny insects fighting over that crumb of cake – or promotion and hours at work. But I just wish i had someone to bounce ideas off of, someone who will help me understand who i am suppose to be, someone to guide me in the right path. Someone to show me where i am meant to be, because i know that this can’t be where I am meant to stay. I am not meant to live in a city that has the highest overdose rate of drugs laced with Fentanyl or a city where theres more and more addicts living on the street and the age in which they are injects, snorting and smoking drugs is dropping to an alarmingly low one. I cant see how my future could be tied to the walls of this prison of underaged drug addicts, drug dealing migrants and white trash people. I am not that person, i have not fought my entire life to be grouped into this disgusting cluster of human waste my city has turned into.

And yes, I know I am single and only 25 and I could leave this place but when you barely make enough money to pay bills, saving money to leave is almost impossible.

Having said that, however, I know i need to stop making excuses. I need to start living for myself and not worry as much about my family, as hard as that may be. I think about img_7838killing myself almost daily because of the bad memories and sorrow this house, city, place is surrounded in and living this way isn’t productive or healthy for anyone. I know that if i dont get out of this city soon, my sorrow and pain will only be felt by the people in my life, because I will end up ending mine. That I will turn into the kind of person I hate just to escape the feeling of failure I wake up to everyday; to numb the hate in my soul. I need to stop living in the city I lost my ability to trust in. I know running away isn’t the answer, that my memories will always be with me but I can’t help but think that leaving will help quiet the demons inside me.

And yes I know I’ve been singing the same tune – talking about leaving – for.. Well forever it seems. But I’m at the point in my life where I am not able to find any real reason to stay. After loosing Jayda I felt like my entire world was crumbling around me and I realized that when push comes to shove no one is 100% here for me, so why should I always make myself readily available to people who may share the same blood as me but cares very little about my well being. Who may claim they love me but their actions show otherwise, and who calls me a friend but never acts like one. I have always been there for people, to listen to their troubles, to provide comfort. I would stay up all night for people, bend backwards for people only to be belittled and I would allow people to treat me like I was stupid or wrong, even when I knew I wasn’t. I was denied the opportunity to graduate high school because my parents, who I love deeply, decided that moving to a house rather then a basement suite was more important then keeping me in my school for the last two years. While I understand why they made this decision, they didn’t put my needs before their wants. It sometimes feels like my needs and wants don’t matter.

So I need to make me matter, I need to be selfish and make myself a priority.

But why does that seem so hard?