Journal Entry from Oct 3

*Typed version of my journal entry from October 3*

3 Oct 2017

Today…. today I feel the meds not working so well. I have skipped between being okay & not being okay. I can tell I’m starting to get worked up again. Granted, I don’t feel the absolute need to stay in bed & away from people as much as I usually do.

I can also tell I don’t have emotions about people like I used to. I know there are people I care about, but when I try to think of losing them to force some kind of reaction from myself, it just doesn’t bother me- I don’t like that. I can’t tell if it’s because I broke myself last week or if it’s because of the medicine I’m on.

I don’t feel like “me.” Not that I really know who or what that is or feels like. I still feel all of those things I listed and then some…. and they make me- not sad & down like usual- but – like…. I don’t know. Like they’re not a “thing” anymore. I’m just indifferent to them.

I still feel the urge to run.


Journal Entry from Oct 2

*Typed version of my journal entry from October 2*

2 Oct 2017

I don’t know how to be here. I just don’t really feel right here. Just…. feels off. Yes, this is where my “family” is & where people who “care” about me are…. but it doesn’t feel right.

Today, the meds didn’t make me drowsy. I could feel when it started wearing off- or at least what I think was it wearing off- because my skin started to crawl. I had to keep adjusting my shoulders & twitching. I think it’s helping a bit, though.

Earlier, I reactivated my Facebook so Justin could get in touch with me while he is on the cruise. Not a long time after I wrote on his wall to let him know, he posted something. Wouldn’t you know Alexis was the first to “react” to it. He also didn’t acknowledge my post. It bothered me, but no where near as much as it might have before. I still can’t get it out of my head, but I’m calm about it. I don’t know if I like it or not. It feels like I just can’t react even though I want to.

Journal Entry from Oct 1

*This is the typed version of my journal entry after I ran– as briefly mentioned in the post titled Here. (Click that to read)*

1 Oct 2017

Man…. So lat week…. I just had to go. HAD. TO. HAD TO. I don’t know why it hit at that moment, but it did. Being gone was- wonderful, awful, fun, sad- so many things that I don’t think I can adequately explain. There is something about being in those new places- North Alabama, Tennessee, Arkansas- there’s something about being some place new that felt so freeing. I had no desire to really stop anywhere or even leave my car. I just wanted to keep going.

All of the things that have been building up in my mind were gone. Albeit for a short time.. but they were gone. It didn’t matter:

that I don’t have a steady job

that I haven’t finished school

that I don’t have any direction for my life

that I don’t have a life dream (other than to spend my life with Justin)

that I have no clue what I want to be when I “grow up”

that I can’t force myself out of bed most days

that I can’t force myself to keep a clean or decent home for “The Kid”

that I would rather sleep than be awake

that I’m a total failure at parenting

that I can’t seem to get or stay pregnant

that I don’t belong anywhere

that I’m not really good at anything

that someone else is always chosen over/before me

that I’m not that pretty

that I’m not really smart

For just a while, none of those things mattered.. and that’s the short list. I didn’t feel like I was lost anymore. I feel bad that I felt so free away from “The Kid” and Justin because they don’t burden me- all of these feelings do, but not them. Never them. I feel awful that, for some reason, I felt I had to just go & not come back to make life easier for everyone. I really felt like it would. I still feel like it would.


Ten Days

“I wish I hadn’t been so damn stupid.”

Those were your words to me.

“I’m sorry.”

You said you never meant to hurt me.

“I love you.”

You said you would always be there for me and with me.

“You know I love you and want you so bad.”

I was the only one for you, you told me.

“It could have been a love story in a great book.”

Never have you ever felt love like you felt for me.

“I’m not opposed to trying again.”

That’s what you’ve said.

Ten days. The number of days since we have been “us.”

Three days. The number of days since you began talking to me.

These were your words to me.

Over those three days.

But now I have questions to you from me.

That girl who caused problems between us.

The one you said you had no interest in.

The one you said was barely even really a friend.

What is this about?

Is truth really that hard for you?

Ten days. The number of days since we have been “us.”

The number of days since I wore your ring.

But I guess you never meant a single fucking thing.

fucking asshole


Some Truth

If I’ve ever not been honest how I felt, here’s a bit of honesty.

I feel like absolute shit. Yeah, that’s not the best word, but it’s the only word I can think of at the moment. I feel like shit.

This back and forth “I’m ok. I’m not ok” is crap. It’s crap. I can laugh at things. I can smile. But I’m not happy.. and I’m far from ok. I don’t understand this. I mean, I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember, but it’s just so extreme now. It’s just so hard to control. One minute, I feel fine. I feel like I can function properly. The next minute, I’m completely broken down and just completely lost.

The worst part is that the person I want to talk to about everything is the one person who I really can’t talk to right now. We have texted a bit since shit hit the fan, but talking about everything that I’m dealing with and letting him actually know the magnitude of everything I’m dealing with is just out of the question right now. He’s obviously dealing with his own shit right now, so that’s another reason I can’t really talk to him about it. And knowing that some of the shit he’s dealing with is caused by me…. well…. that just helps to compound everything even more.




Today, I just DO NOT want to be HERE.

This town.

This state.

I want none of it.

That’s not true. I want parts of it.. like, maybe 6 of the people here. One person specifically.. Him.. I just don’t want to be IN either place.

A few weeks ago, I ran. I haven’t written about it on here. (I don’t know if I ever will. Maybe I will.)

I ran. And I want to run again. This just isn’t a place I want to be anymore. It isn’t a place where I know HOW to be anymore. I’m trying. I am really really trying. My best friend and I are working on opening a business together to see if that will help us both a bit. So far, even in trying to keep my mind busy about that, though, I still. don’t. want. to. be. here.

I’ve used the phrase “I think I broke something in me when I left.” I really think I did. Whatever held me here…. it’s gone. It wasn’t a person, although, once he and I became “us” it made it stronger…. but whatever it was is not.. it’s not here anymore.

These Hands


These hands.

They’ve created music.

They’ve played board games.

They’ve driven boats and cars.

They’ve held fishing poles.

These hands.

They’ve cradled more babies than can be counted.

They’ve played with all kinds of animals.

They’ve written numerous essays and composed a thousand letters plus one.

They’ve prepared food for many.

These hands.

They’ve held the hands of the man I love.

They’ve forcefully held that same man while he fought his demons so he wouldn’t hurt himself.

They’ve worn the ring he gave as a promise to marry.

They’ve given that ring back, but still bear the proof it was once there.

These hands.

They’ve reached for the ground after being shoved by the man they once held so surely to.

They’ve slapped the face they once held softly between them.

They’ve punched it, too, while his hands were locked around my throat.

They’ve betrayed.