I cried myself to sleep the past two nights. The first night because I realized whenever I talk to my dad, all he tells me is bullshit. A few weeks ago we had our first conversation in years and basically everything he told me turned out to be total crap. It was about him and my mom who broke up in 2012 and got divorced last year. Guess what he told me about that: they only took those steps because of the financial situation. And he went even further: ‘we still love each other. Why do you think neither of us had a new relationship since our breakup? We couldn’t start off with something new because our feelings are still very intense.’ Something like that. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to believe that, so I talked to my mom about it and she came up with the truth: lies. All lies. My mom doesn’t feel shit for him! SHE called the marriage off because SHE didn’t wanna be with him anymore! You may understand why I was mad. I gave him this one chance and all he did was lying to me all over again. And two days ago, the same shit happened all over again when my awesome dad slept over for a night after he had helped us with house renovations and he went upstairs- right to my mom’s bedroom- and I asked him what he wanted there and he told me he was gonna sleep in the same bed with my mom because ‘that was no problem for her’. Of course it was, I fucking talked to her! Firstly, you don’t sleep in a bed with the ex. You just DON’T. Secondly, what the fuck is wrong in his head? Does he seriously believe what he says? If so, how can someone be so blind? Such a jerk? Or why is he always lying to me whenever we talk? I remember why I cut him out of my life for three years. What’s going on right now is one of the reasons why. It hurts to know your own father doesn’t consider it to be necessary to tell his own daughter the truth. Even though I actually promised myself to never let him hurt me again. I’ve wasted way too many tears for this man. 
And I cried yesterday because my mom blames me for everything that went or is going wrong. She doesn’t speak it out loud, but I know she thinks it. And that I’m not sick anymore and just acting like I am or always exaggerating. And the (for me) worst thing is that I’m never allowed to talk about any problems in front of her when I’m not in a damn psychiatric (where I don’t plan to stay even a day ever again) because for her, that means I only focus on the bad stuff. I do NOT only focus on negative things just because I talk about my problems! I was taught I should speak out loud what bothers me in therapy and stop swallowing down everything! I was taught it helps to talk about problems! My mom used to think the same way, but since I got better, she changed her mind. Talking about problems means focusing on bad things now and that means staying in the disorder. Great. So let’s keep swallowing it all down. Like that’s gonna solve it. Like that’s gonna cure me. Everything seems to be my fault. And whatever I do, it’s wrong.
By the way, I spent some quality time with my class in the city where I used to live years ago today because we visited some kind of museum there. 
The last place where I lived before everything fell apart. Where all the people who used to be my friends live. Where 66% of the guys I hooked up with live (I slept with three guys and two live there). Where life was still easy and great. I can’t tell how badly it sucks to be back.

Recovering- for REAL.

I know I haven’t written in a while. I didn’t know what to tell. I was ‘released from custody’ three weeks ago and I’ve been doing pretty good since then- at least mentally. Physically- not really. Lately it’s been hotter than in the desert out here and my pregnant body doesn’t seem to be so happy about it. But hey, I’m still able to get out of my bed and get my shit done every day, so whatever. I’ll get through it. I’m still having those moody ups and downs, but it has already gotten SO MUCH better. Like, seriously. No sudden crying for no reason, no breakdowns because of ridiculous stuff. Just… A mixture of pregnancy and BPD (borderline personality disorder). Right now I realize even though I haven’t written in weeks, I have nothing to say. Nothing spectacular has happened since I left the hospital. I’m actually doing really good. Even better than I had expected it. Hey, it sucks to be pregnant because of all those shitty side affects like weight gain, pains everywhere and such crap, but at least I’ll have a beautiful child afterwards, so let’s do this. My mind seems to be getting better every day while I tell myself to keep going and stay strong. There are those bad days and critical moments, but I know what to do and am always able to snap out of it somehow. I have no idea how I made it here, but now I really am recovering. 

All I can tell you is that the most important part of recovery is wanting it, realizing you deserve it and never, ever stop believing in yourself, your dreams and future. And you must never stop refining yourself.