When memories burn like acid

I recently re-discovered some old tracks I used to listen to years ago. The type of music no longer appeals to me at all, but music always has a very deep and personal meaning to me, so as soon as those songs started, I couldn’t help but break down. I wanted to cry harder than I have in years because I haven’t been able to cry and felt like I needed this relief because there was so much pain inside of me again as I listened to this music, but I couldn’t. I wanted the tears to take this heavy weight off my chest, but even though I started crying, no tears fell.

There was a time (2 1/2 ago, to be exact) when I cried really, really much because I finally faced losing my friend in 2012 after swallowing the grief for such a long time. So for a while, I cried constantly when I was alone, but before and afterwards… No matter how sad or depressed I was or am, there are no tears. Sometimes I manage to cry at least for a few seconds or minutes (if I’m lucky), but my eyes stay dry and it drives me crazy. When my depression started at the age of twelve, it made me cry so much and I considered all the crying a burden, but now I wish I could cry when I feel bad. It’s like crying so much back then used up all of the tears I had available and now my storage is just empty. I feel tears stinging on all kinds of occasions revolving around memories, sadness or anger, but they are always too stubborn to fall. Today I realize that having those drops roll down your cheeks isn’t annoying or unnecessary- it’s actually relieving and might make you look horrible, but also feel better afterwards.

And now that I’m no longer able to do it regardless of how hard I try by triggering myself with the things that really make me break down and feel like crap, all I get is deep and heavy sadness I’ve hidden for a really long time that makes it all even worse. Maybe the problem is that I never truly dealt with the pain inside of me. It’s all hidden under the surface inside of me and I always carefully cover it with other emotions, but I never figure out a way to handle it because I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that. It’s so much and I can’t just take out one piece at a time. If I let it in, I let it all in and then I can’t stand it anymore and it all gets too much again and I turn it off to turn it into emptiness and numbness again.

But the numbness is the worst part. The numbness is why I harmed and almost killed myself. The pain is horrible, but there is nothing worse than being alive and breathing, but feeling like you’ve already died a long time ago, like you need to see your skin bleed and your body cringe in pain to make sure you’re still capable of feeling something- anything. Is there even a way to deal with the pain once and for all without letting it take over or destroy myself? Is there a way to take it away without replacing it with something else? Is there a way of letting go of it without feeling like there’s a hole inside of me, like I’m incomplete? They say the past is only there to fuck you up, but is there a way to move on from the past when I’m forced to face it every day? Is there a way to live with the memories when they hurt so much that you feel like you don’t have any air left to breathe in your lungs? Is the happiness we all want really existent and, most importantly, will it ever be able to become a part of my life? Because right now, whenever I feel happy, something (usually me, my past or my disorders) is right around the corner to beat me up again. And yes, I’m fighting it every day, but I don’t remember what I’m fighting for. I do have goals and dreams, but it’s starting to feel like I’ll never have a chance when I can’t even overcome the stuff in my own head.

doctor, words, and gif image

I’m screaming internally, hoping for a break, for tears to fall, for my being to rupture so I can collapse, but there is nothing.
Sometimes I feel like all of this stuff in my mind has turned me into a ghost of who I pretend to be, a faded memory of what I could have been if I’d been stronger. Weakness. Emptiness. Pain. But a smile on my lips.

black, screaming, and crying image

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar’s chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair

Fucked up feelings

This is gonna be a very personal post and if you’re not interested in this kind of stuff, I recommend you not to read it. But I need to write down what’s on my mind at the moment because it’s the only effective and healthy way I know to deal with my thoughts. First of all, I need to ask you a question. What’s your greatest fear? Lots of people I asked told me they don’t know, but that’s a lie. Everyone knows their fears. We all have big and small ones, those that protect and those that paralyze us. Some are useful and others completely useless, but we definitely have them. Most of them can be defeated, but that’s scary, so most people prefer to just obey them and pretend they’re not even there. This or the other way, our fears always subconsciously control certain parts of our lives. 


I have small fears like clowns or those guys who paint their skin silver and then pretend they’re statues, but then there are the big ones, the ones that continuously try to ruin my life. Despite the fact that I’m afraid of a whole lot of things (which is why my counselor suggested I might have an anxiety disorder), my biggest ones concern emotions. 

Feelings are frightening. They’re overwhelming, scary and almost uncontrollable. I know that they’re there to tell us what we need or don’t need, but that doesn’t make it any better for me. I have BPD (borderline personality disorder), so my feelings are extremely intense and hard for me to handle. Over the years of therapy, I’ve learned to at least name them, but I still either feel everything or nothing and this extreme loss of control is very difficult for me because that’s another one of my greatest fears: losing control. Control means safety and security and losing that means vulnerability and instability. And when you’re vulnerable, you can get hurt. And I break my own heart basically every day by making myself feel like shit, so I really don’t need other people to do that.


The creepiest feelings are the romantic ones. Love is an incredibly weird thing. I don’t know why movies always make it look so easy, because it isn’t. Nothing about love is easy. You can never control it, you can never be sure about it, you can never settle it and there is so much more necessary to make a relationship work than just the love. The basis of a healthy relationship is trust and at least I believe that’s a very tough thing to do. How do you know if someone is trustworthy? Theoretically spoken, anyone could break your trust. Trusting people means letting them in and telling them everything. There are no secrets or lies allowed to build real trust and once it’s destroyed, usually by some kind of betrayal, it’s really hard to ever get back to where you where before it broke. Once the trust is lost, everything is.

And when you love someone, you make yourself depend on them and losing them can crush you completely. You make yourself need them and I don’t like to need other people. I want to be able to handle things myself, you know? Besides, a relationship means so much work and responsibility. You need to spend a lot of time together, have dates, spend a shit load of money on pretty underwear, don’t just share your beds, but also your lives, get along with the other’s friends and family, fight, forgive, work on your sex life so it doesn’t get boring AF, be honest, buy gifts, have things in common… And intimacy? Frightening. Especially when you have huge issues with your body and then the other one sees you naked all the time.

It’s all so exhausting. And this whole emotional thing, oh god. You’re so vulnerable in front of your partner. Am I the only one who’s scared by that? And what if you live together or get married for I don’t know how long and then one falls for someone else? How can you make sure the feelings stay? They don’t. And neither do people. It all ends with heartbreak, so what’s the whole point?

You do it for the good times. For the moments and memories you share. But I’m so afraid of what happens after the good stuff.

Have you ever heard of the saying ‘hurt people hurt people’? That applies to me.

I hurt others or myself (emotionally) so nobody else can hurt me. It doesn’t make sense, I’m aware of that, but at least I can stay in control and don’t have to let my guard down.
But the thing is that I’m not sure if I can keep doing that. While I manage to face all of my other fears and fight and even defeat them every day, I’m constantly running away from the emotions that scare me. And maybe it’s time to stop running now.

When I broke up with my son’s father in 2013, I did it because I was terrified of my feelings and this whole situation with vulnerability and trust. To not get heartbroken, I stashed away all of my feelings for him in a box deep inside of me and didn’t feel them anymore. I know that sounds weird, but I am actually capable of shutting down my feelings and feeling empty- but to do that, I need to distance myself from the source. So when I met him again after a few emotionless relationships in 2015, the box popped open again and we came back together just to break up again when I was pregnant because of his behavior and once again, I turned off everything I felt because the only one who breaks my heart is me. 


But this time, I can’t run. 

Since Jamie was born, we’ve been seeing each other on a regular basis and talked casually about pointless things, but when we met a friend of ours together, everything fell apart because I hadn’t considered that she’d been one of the people who’d brought us together in 2013 in the first place. And after a short while, we found ourselves talking about the past. And then my ex and I met again two days later to talk about it again. I don’t know how it exactly happened, but just like that, it was all back. Everything I’d felt for him was there again. 

Furthermore, at some point in our conversation, we admitted we both still loved the other one, talked about what we’d need in a relationship, dating deal breakers and that we’re both willing to try it again. To be honest, if Jamie wasn’t our son, I’d run for the hills. But our child will always create a bond between us and I therefore can’t just ignore what’s going on between us. It’s impossible for me to see him all the time thinking about what could have been or could still be if we were both just brave enough to try it once more. I usually don’t give people more than two chances, but I’d give us one more because for reasons I don’t know, I still love this stupid guy. He drives me crazy every day I see him and there are so many things I hate about him and we really don’t have anything in common anymore, but my feelings haven’t changed in three years regardless.

But because I have always been the one of us to make the first move, I told him he’d have to do it this time to give our relationship another chance. This week, we agreed to spend the day together and that he’d come to my place afterwards where we’d bring Jamie to bed together and spend the evening with each other. Well, after we’d endlessly been talking about the fact that we still love each other and are willing to try it again, of course I expected something.

The problem is just that he didn’t.

We were back in my neighborhood and went for another walk before going back to my place when he got a call from his annoying best friend who apparently was standing in front of his house to pay a surprise visit. Like, what the hell? Don’t normal people call before showing up to make sure you’re home? Aren’t most people busy with their lives most of the time? Seriously, if someone just showed up on my doorstep, I’d be like, what the heck? As long as nothing life changing is going on, you gotta check whether people have time for you or not before going to see them. It kind of got me wondering what kind of friendship these two have. They’re like, really close, you know? Texting all the time with hearts and stuff and showing up whenever they’re feeling like it. Kind of like… Friends with benefits. God, I hope not, because that girl is cringey.

Anyway, so he got that call and he was like, sure, I’ll come home. And I was… How do I put it into nice words? Not pleased. Not at all. How would you feel if you were waiting for a guy to make the first step to get back together after spending a romantic day together with your kid and then that guy got a phone call from the female best friend and he’d just run like a dog hearing someone whistle? I’ll give you a hint: you’d feel a whole lot of anger.

The probably worst thing was that he didn’t even get it. He’s almost twenty years old and couldn’t even slightly understand why I was mad at him. After like half an eternity he at least realized THAT I was angry, though. And that it was serious and not the girly kind of being bitchy. To be honest, if the whole thing had stopped there, it would have been over. I’m not his fool and I’m not willing to make myself one either. For anyone. But especially not for him. I told him how pissed I was and that he obviously didn’t give a shit about me and that I wasn’t willing to keep being a part of this ridiculous game. Also, I mentioned what I had expected from the evening and if my heart hadn’t already been frozen at that point of time, it would have probably shattered into a million pieces when he then said that he wasn’t ready for that yet. Like, what was he waiting for? A sign from Jesus or some shit like that? You know, he’s the whore when it comes to the two of us. While I can count my boyfriends with one hand, he can’t even tell me all of his girlfriends’ names. How pathetic is that? He’s been having more pointless relationships in the last few years than I’ll hopefully have in my entire life and yet he’s the one complaining that he’s not ready for a relationship after telling me he still loves me countless numbers of times and calling me beautiful and sweet stupid stuff like that. Unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable. And he couldn’t even name me a real reason. When I asked, he said he was still struggling with the way he had treated me in 2015 (you know, when he didn’t give a damn about me and I broke up with him as a result), but the way he treated me now was just as bad and how can he think he’s the one who has the right to still suffer from 2015? If anyone can do that, it’s me. But guess what- I got over it. It’s been a year. Life goes on. End of story. I’m the one who got hurt and I dealt with it. How come he can’t?


So no, I didn’t accept that reason and was willing to say goodbye and end the whole thing. As in, everything. 

But then he decided to turn things around and make up by asking me if he was allowed to prove he still cared because he suddenly seemed to realize that he was really screwing things up. I’ve never been the kind of girl who runs after guys and he seemed to remember that. And I let him try to prove his feelings for me. So basically in the middle of me getting us into a huge fight that would end in me becoming emotionless again, he just kissed me. In an empty street a mile away from my house with our child in front of us in the stroller. It was really weird. 

For reasons unknown to me, I still love him, so of course I joined the kiss. I couldn’t do anything else. And then he cancelled his ‘date’ with this stupid bestie and we went to my place where we brought Jamie to bed and he cooked something extremely boring I could have cooked as well, but it was quite good. On the couch, I forced him to talk to me about things because unlike male human beings, female human beings want to talk about their feelings. I don’t know how guys can prefer confusion and unknowing to settling things once and for all, but I definitely don’t. And after pushing and annoying him for minutes, he finally gave me the real reason: fear. Perfect. We (or more like me) found out and that we both have the exact same fears when it comes to our relationship: betrayal, cheating, trust, breakups, vulnerability and hurting each other. But we both handle it in completely different ways: while I’ve mentioned multiple times that I’d rather try and fail and then at least know that we don’t work and can both move on with our lives and just be parents, he seems to enjoy it when things are incredibly weird between the two of us and we don’t know how to act in from of each other. But I’m not gonna do that. I asked him what he wanted to do. How this was supposed to keep going with us. What we would do. No, what HE would do. And he didn’t know. He seems to never know anything.

What crossed my mind when I did that is a mystery to me, but I kissed him and we made out. It started all innocent just with lips and tongues, but when I told him to kiss my neck (a trigger of mine) and made him take his shirt off to dig my nails into his back (a trigger of his) while kissing him, it quickly heated up and when I told him we had a guest room in the basement with my old bed, it was over with all of the innocence. With our son asleep in my bedroom in his baby bed on the first floor, we had sex in the basement. 

Do I regret it? No. But was it smart? No. I don’t regret any of it, but we shouldn’t have done it anyway. It made things even more complicated. 

My feelings for him are really twisted: I love and hate him at the same time. There are so many things that drive me crazy like his stupid clothes and his stupid hair and his nose and his attitude and how he never tells me anything, but then there is his smell and his skin and his hands and his stupid hair and his voice and his lips and… It’s extremely confusing to be so torn when looking at someone. I want to punch him in his silly face and kiss every inch of his body at the same time. Like, what the hell?

And I never know how he’s about to act. Sometimes he’s really sweet and writes romantic messages and hugs me from behind (I love that) and promises me so many things, but then, the next second, he doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t ask me about anything, doesn’t text me and basically doesn’t even bother to check if Jamie and I are still alive. And tells me ridiculous stuff about him not being ready for this like we’re fourteen again. I hate it when people can’t pick a side.

So what are we gonna do now? 

I set him a deadline because I don’t want to repeat 2015 when he still couldn’t make up his mind after an entire month. We had sex six days ago and now he has two more weeks left to make a choice once and for all because that’s how long I’m staying in Italy with my mom and sister. I’m really curious to see how this will turn out. If he won’t have made a choice, I will and that will be ending everything. If he’ll want to try it again, we will. If he won’t, we never will. 

This is gonna get interesting. So far, he hasn’t even bothered to contact me to at least wish us a good trip. Ah hell.

“Do you still love him?”

I was asked this question a couple times recently and because I realized I’m not sure how to answer, I thought I should write about it. When I say ‘him’, I’m talking about Jamie’s father who was my boyfriend in 2013 when I called it off and then again in 2015 when I broke up with him again after he’d impregnated me. And now, I really am not quite certain when it comes to my feelings for him. Do I still love him? Is it love when you feel torn apart by two completely different feelings for a person while one feeling tells you to get that person (the ex) back immediately and have bad sex and make the same mistakes all over again, and the other feeling is a weird mixture of disgust, anger and disappointment and wants you to never ever even talk to your ex again? Is that love? I honestly don’t know. Nobody ever made me feel such completely different things at one time. I’m actually one of those girls who always know instantly what they feel and want and can talk about it, but this is different. All I know right now is that I’d just love to get him out of my life once and for all, but I can’t punish Jamie for his dad’s mistakes by taking them away from each other. A boy needs a father and as long as I’m a single mom, the biological father has to take that part.

Maybe I’m just scared of being alone and never finding love again or maybe I want that perfect family we see in every cute movie. I cannot get him off my mind. Maybe I just miss our memories and not him.

Sometimes it’s not the person you miss but the feelings and memories you shared

All I know is we cannot get back together. It won’t work out. We don’t work out. We never did either.

The Originals, the vampire diaries, and klaus mikaelson image

Places of remembrance 

I drove through the town where I used to live for five years until I attempted suicide (twice) today. I wanted to close my eyes as we passed, but I couldn’t. I felt… Dazzled. But not in a positive way. More in a paralyzed way.
My voice would have been husky if I would have been able to talk and I was trembling so hard when I saw all those familiar places where all the terrible things happened. When we drove through the woods where I had tried to kill myself for the first time, I felt like I recognized every single spot though it was already dusk.
This is where I wanted to die, I thought. Where I almost died.
My eyes got wet, but gladly I didn’t cry (I was not alone in the car).
You know, the feelings I got are ridiculous. It’s been three years since then and I actually got over it. I’m not even suicidal anymore, not in almost half a year.
So why did it hurt so bad?
The memories don’t hurt at all anymore. I can’t even talk about what happened without blinking. But the places? Hurts like hell.
Where’s the problem with them?
I’m still shocked by all those images that popped up.

Grief is back

It just happened. I sat there and read a book (Wintergirls) and suddenly I started to slip away. I had tears in my eyes and I didn’t know why. Then I realized it. I felt this pain again. I don’t know anything worse than losing a person you love, there’s no pain compared to it. Fuck every single trauma and disorder and whatever, loss is so much worse. It’s taking my breath away because it hurts like hell. How can I describe this feeling? There’s an invisible hand pulling me down to the bottom and it slits through my skin and grabs my heart, but doesn’t rip it out of my chest. The hand keeps holding my still beating heart and slowly squashes it. And whenever it notices that I’m dying, it lets go and waits until I’ve gotten better and then… Repeats the torture. Again and again.

People told me time would heal these wounds, but why do they still hurt the way they did when it happened? Nothing has healed! My therapist said it would be because of all my disorders and I’d have to recover first. But will I ever recover? I can’t do this without you! Where are you and why did you go somewhere I can’t bring you back? Why? I’m not mad at you, I never was. I’m hurting and more disappointed and sad than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Not to blame you for all this, but yes, you made my mental condition get much worse. You fucking pinky promised me you would never ever do that without me! You said you’d never leave me. Was it so easy to break the most important promise we both had ever made? I tried to stay strong and believe me, it’s been a though time. But we could have done this. Together. I trusted you with my heart and my soul and EVERYTHING. You said you didn’t have anyone, but what about me? Am I no one? Did you just erase me from your life? You know, sometimes it still feels so unrealistic. After many months of staying away, I went back to our favorite place some weeks ago. Nothing had changed there. But everything had changed inside of me. And I sat there and I actually expected you to come around with your cute smile and adorable eyes, just like you always did. I expected you to sit down next to me and give me a hug and then tell me about your day while you were drinking another coffee. And then you had one of your sudden emotional blow-ups that never had a real reason and we talked for hours until you were able to calm down again. We always catched each other when one of us fell. I had never had a friendship like the one we had before and I never experienced it afterwards. I don’t think I ever will. At the beginning, I dreamt of you almost every night, but even the dreams have stopped. You’re completely gone.

Likes | Tumblr

Sometimes, I still see your silhouette in the middle of a crowded place and then I don’t know if I should smile or cry. The worst thing is the fact that nobody can replace a dead person. No one is like you. Some tried to comfort me with fine words, but it didn’t work because I always knew they were lying. Believe me, I tried to find someone to replace you in my heart, but it’s impossible! It’s crazy that you only actually value someone when they’re dead. It’s always so normal, natural and taken for granted that this person is there. And when they’re gone, you suddenly start to realize that’s an illusion. Life can be so imperishable and sometimes so fragile. It may be able to survive the worst wars or it fades away when you don’t see the small car coming from the other side. Your mom said we all should have seen it coming it because you had always been so sick. Is that true? Should I’ve known you were gonna die? I didn’t because I believed in your strength. Obviously, I was wrong. I can’t get you back. The day you slipped away was the day that I found it won’t be the same… I don’t believe in heaven and hell, so I don’t have a clue where you are right now. All I can do is hope you’re doing fine there and you’ll have an eye on me and maybe, we’ll meet again some day. Maybe very soon, maybe in a 100 years, who knows.

🚬🔫

I heard somebody is not dead as long as you keep them in your heart and eternally love and remember them. The love makes them stay alive, inside of you. Where is this love? All I feel is the pain. And it won’t go away. Damn, I wish you were here. I need you. You’re the good in my life and without it, there’s an awful lot of darkness. You’re so far away from me and it’s so sad that I can’t even remember the sound of your voice anymore. Part of me wishes I could erase every memory I have of you because I don’t want to face reality. Even if I wanted, I couldn’t. I still remember the first time we met and talked and still see you right here, next to me. It’s a pain that never fades away. There’s nothing else left. Moving on is so fucking hard after everything that happened. My whole world is so fucked up. Completely. I need to feel your presence, need to know you’re here.

But you’re not.

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