Sometimes I look at my life and see all of the things I could have, would have, should have done better. I should have graduated. I should have concentrated on school. I should have made something of myself. 

Then maybe I wouldn’t be here right now… Maybe right now I’d be married and have a good job and amazing children. Maybe I’d have a car that didn’t rattle. Maybe I’d be smiling. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like every part of my heart is out of place. Maybe…
Maybe I wouldn’t have my son. My best friend, my sweet boy… My world. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like my ex husband tore my life to shreds. Maybe I wouldn’t regret the life him and I shared. 

I haven’t written because I’ve been going through a whirlwind of bull shit… another terrible break up with the same guy that tore my heart out 4 years ago. Another lost home. Another move. More pain and drama. After 11 years… I think we are really done. I have good days and bad ones. 

Since I have moved home to be with my family, I have stopped taking antidepressants. I have stopped taking anxiety meds. I’ve stopped taking everything. I feel pretty good for the most part. 

I suppose that may not be true. I feel empty. I feel like a black hole. I feel like everything I worked so hard for exploded again. After I tried so hard to make him happy. I tried so hard to just make him love me. 

He never loved me. Not like I should have been loved. He isn’t capable of love. I’m sure of it. He thinks this time I’m going to lay down and let him walk all over me. He is sadly mistaken. I’m no longer weak. I’m no longer going to allow him to break me. I’m stronger than that and I will fight this. 

My future holds custody battles and court dates. My future holds tears and stress. But… I got this. I’m not going to fall like I did before. 


How My Depression Feels

I can’t breathe.

I can’t focus.

I don’t want to move.

I don’t want to do anything.

I don’t remember what smiling feels like.

I don’t remember what happiness feels like.

I don’t remember what it feels like to feel normal.

I’ve been on the same antidepressants for about a year and they just don’t seem to be working. I don’t know what to do anymore. All I want to do is lay down and cry.

I need something or someone to lift me up!!! I’m tired of feeling so damn low.

Take a deep breath. Hold your head high. You got this.

I miss me

Well, the title really says it all, but I feel I need to go into detail.

I miss me. I miss who I was when I was single. I miss laughing. I miss being happy. I miss my friends. I miss my family.

I. Miss. Me.

I lay here and think about when I supported myself in my own apartment with my son and I miss that. I miss having my own money. I miss having my own rules. I miss not having to answer to anyone.

I miss how it felt to wake up smiling. To fall asleep smiling. I never had my anxiety this badly. I wasn’t depressed and on medication. I miss sitting on the floor of my kitchen with a fork and my best friends cheesecake.

People kept telling me “lose some weight, you’ll be happier” I lost 50lbs. And I still lay here crying.

People kept saying “get some exercise, you’ll feel better…” I can hardly get out of bed anymore. I just don’t want to function at all. I miss how it felt to wake up to the alarm and be ready for the day.

I miss having my own space. Here, it feels like there’s a constant rain cloud over my head and It’s so suffocating. I can’t breathe. All I feel is pressure on my lungs. Which causes anxiety issues.

I’m so tired of crying and feeling like my whole world is fucked up beyond repair….

I wish I could breathe again. Really take a deep breath and actually breathe. I feel so weighed down by all the bull shit.

I miss the happy me who danced around in underwear painting my kitchen. I miss the girl who was truly able to smile. And I wonder if I will ever find her again. Lord knows how much I miss that. How I miss my happiness.

I miss me.


I have scars. Scars from surgeries, scars from pets, scars from being super clumsy and scars I’ve given myself.

Some tell stories of pain, some tell storied of joy, some tell stories of love some tell stories of fear.

But all of them are here for a reason. Whatever bad things I’ve survived, I walked away with a battle wound. They remind me of who I was. Who I am. Who I will be.

Scars tell so many stories…


I really don’t know how to describe insomnia.

You lay there in bed, wanting to fall asleep, but you can’t.

Your mind races. You think about things you forgot to do today, or about things you have to do tomorrow. You think about things that could have happened yesterday that didn’t. You think about what you did a week ago. You think about things that happened thee years ago. Every harsh word you said haunts you. Ever harsh word anyone else ever said haunts you.

Your brain runs a mile a minute. You just can’t shut it off. Every bad memory, very loss, everything’s ng that has ever caused you pain just sits there. Taunting you. It’s like that shadow in the corner of the room that catches your eye every night and scares you. It’s constant.

It’s not lack of wanting to sleep. It’s fear, anxiety, sadness… It’s reliving everything that’s happened to you and everything you have done to everyone else. It’s like a horrible movie is playing in your head every time you close your eyes.

Insomnia isn’t just “not sleeping” it’s so much more than that. So much more.

Spinning In Circles

I feel like my whole life I’ve been spinning around in circles.

I get over one emotion or fear only to face another. Then the cycle continues and eventually it starts over again.

I feel like I annoy everyone I talk to. I know I don’t. But I feel like a burden to everyone. I feel like everyone I know would be so much better without me bugging them. Sometimes I want to turn my phone off and just vanish. Would anyone come looking? Would anyone care? Would anyone even notice if I was gone? Not like dead gone, but gone. How long would it take for people to notice?

Part of me wishes I had people to hang out with and do things with, and then part of me is glad I don’t. I don’t have to deal with people forgetting their plans with me. I don’t have to deal with people ignoring my texts. I don’t have to miss anyone.

Being alone is easier. It hurts but it hurts less than being forgotten. It hurts less than being ignored.

I just want to disappear.

Don’t tell me you understand.

I can’t stand it when people sit there and tell you they understand what you’re going through.

No you don’t.

You don’t know what else I’ve been through in my life that effects how I’m feeling right now. You don’t know the roads I’ve traveled. You don’t know the things I’ve seen. You don’t understand. In a way, no one does and no one ever will.

I have hit the most horrible patch of depression. It’s worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. So I get asked the same questions.

“What caused it?”
“Why do you feel like this?”
“Can’t you just get over it?”

Trust me. If I could just ‘get over it’ I would. It’s not like I enjoy feeling like this. It’s not like I enjoy crying because I messed up on something I was painting. Or crying because of the color orange. Literally crying over everything.

But you don’t understand. You don’t understand how my entire body aches. You don’t understand that I feel that tingle in my stomach, the one you feel before you cry, constantly. You don’t understand how alone and secluded I feel. You will never understand how I feel. You may have felt something similar but you’ve never felt this. You’ve never been in my shoes.

I’m an insomniac. And all I want to do is sleep. All I want to do is curl up and cry myself to sleep. I cried today because Walmart didn’t have wooden paint stirring sticks. I just want to sleep. I just want to sleep away all the emotions and tears.

My head hurts. My eyes hurt. Everything hurts.

I hurt today.

Not for any particular reason.

Maybe it’s because my insomnia is acting up again and I’m running on 3 hours of sleep.

Maybe because the first pot of coffee didn’t work to wake me up.

Maybe because the weather has been miserable and gloomy for over a week.

Maybe because I’m moving and my house looks naked and bare. Which is depressing.

Maybe because I probably won’t meet my new niece before she turns 3.

Maybe because my heart is just… broken.

I can’t really put my finger on it. I don’t know the exact reason I feel sad. I just feel sad and lonely today.

I hate feeling like this.

It’s been a while.

It’s been a while since I’ve written. So I’m writing an update of sorts.

Well, I went to my dad’s house (where all of my abuse happened) and thank God he had alcohol. I think that’s the only thing that kept me from completely losing my mind. It’s hard to smell the same smells and see the same things. It’s hard to match everything up with memories of things that happened. It’s painful.

That is honestly the last thing on my mind. As if depression and anxiety weren’t enough… they found lumps in my breasts. I am currently waiting for the results from my mammogram. My grandmother was diagnosed in 2012 with breast cancer. So I’m pretty fucking worried at this point. It makes my anxiety so much worse.

Right now… my heart is beating slowly and way too fast at the same time. Every muscle in my body is tensed up and it’s hard to breathe… I hurt mentally and it’s making me hurt physically. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. My body is so flooded with anxiety that I can’t eat. Because everything makes me sick. I have been forcing Gatorade down my throat to stay hydrated.

But honestly… I’m done fighting right now. I’m done trying to get up every day and trying to fight more fucking battles. I’m done putting pills in my system. I’m just so tired. I’m tired of the constant battle that is my health. Both mental and physical health. I’m so tired. It takes so much energy and I just don’t have it. I don’t have it anymore. I feel like I don’t have any fight left in me.

My kidneys are also acting up which doesn’t help. I’m on another medication for that. And what’s shitty is… none of it is stuff I can control. None of it is my fault. It just happened. My body just decided to shut down and not work right…

I’m so freaking done. I’m so tired. I just want to be healthy and happy. That’s all I want.

Letter to my son

My Sweet Son,

Words can not begin to describe how much I love you. My world would be so incomplete if you were not here. You are the reason I wake up in the mornings. You are the reason I go to bed exhausted every night.

I know sometimes it doesn’t feel like I love you. Sometimes I get upset when you touch me. I know sometimes I get upset when you sit too close, and it’s not because I don’t love you. Sometimes I just can’t handle it. Sometimes I just can’t handle you being so close.

It’s not fair to you. I know that. And I am so sorry. I wish I knew how to hug you and hold you without freaking out. I wish I knew how to fix this. You are 5 years old, and I’ve barely hugged you or kissed you.

I feel like a terrible mother. No mother should be this disconnected from their child. No mother should push her child away when they try to hug her. No mother should put her arms out to avoid contact. I feel like I’m failing you.

You have such a sweet and loving heart and I am so sorry I deny you hugs and kisses. You truly are my world. My light. My life.

I am working on it and I promise I will get better. I don’t know if you will hate me later in life for this. You always tell me that I love the dog more than I love you. This is not true. I’d give my last breath for you. I haven’t even been able to handle the dog near me. I don’t understand why. And I’m trying.

I love you so much my sweet son. And I promise I will fix this.