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I'm a psychology student, but until this summer I didn't know about repressed memories.
I was a sophomore in college. It was the height of the COVID-19 pandemic - or at least, I hoped it was. I had been exposed and I was living in a house for two weeks with my other friends who were exposed. I was living an hour away from home - and I had never moved out before. I had to get a COVID test before I could go home to my parents and my animals.
My cousin was driving me, because my anxie
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take your broken wings and learn to fly . . . "
I remember hearing that for the first time. I think it was Kel who sent it to me. I liked him, Kel. He was tall, stocky, reminded me of my dad, but my age. And I liked him as if just yesterday I was fourteen. But that makes sense, because the years between then and now are fuzzy at best.
Kel had an affinity for the Beatles. Oh, when I say it that way - it sounds cute. Like Kel wasn't a
Asking for help is so freaking hard. I mean the little things are easy. Can you help me move this table? Can you open this jar? But the big things...whew. Can you help me understand why this happened to me? Can you help me express myself feelings in less harmful ways? Even at work I find asking for help at certain levels is difficult. Again, the small tasks are no sweat. But if I feel like the expectation is I should be able to do it then the asking for help is harder.
This isnt something n
It's been a really long time since I've visited this website. I honestly don't think I can even say I fully recognize the person I was when I wrote my past blog entries. What's funny to me is back then the phrase "it gets better" was something I laughed at because I heard it constantly from people I didn't think understood what I was going through. I realize now, though, that things genuinely do get better. I still obviously have really bad days where I struggle, I've honestly been in a bad plac
Another blog entry? So soon? Even for me, this is odd...
Though it's a bit untraditional of me to post two days in a row, I'm hearing my brain say, 'just run with it, Cappy. Just write.'
So, I guess, I will. Maybe this is the way to make peace with what I've been feeling and what's needed for me to altogether snap out of it. Perhaps in order to put this year's 'traumaversary period' to rest, I am needing to understand what exactly happened this year. I can't deny that it felt
I feel like I had so much stolen from me.
No matter how many years go by, and how successful I become I will never have what I use to. I lost more than just money I lost who I use to be. The world will never look the same as it once did, I will never be as trusting, loving, caring...I will never be innocent again. Its funny, I guess I don't really want to change what happened because I do like who I am now, but I do often wish I could be who I am now with the innocence I use to have. Seeing
These three little words are certainly ones to live by - especially if you're me.
Starting at the end of last month, these have been words I'd wake up to. Was I ready for another day of feeling disconnected from everyone including myself? Another day of contending with that unwelcome feeling of impending doom? Another day of cloudiness, and feeling as if I'm surrounded by a fog? Another 24 hours of reminders that fall is in full swing, now?
I'd tell myself as I pull myself out of
why would you promise me all these things and then leave?
why would you promise to stay and then leave me?
why would you promise to do anything and then give up on me?
why?
you said you'd marry me
i can't take another person leaving
another person that made promises and broke them
why does no one ever seem to stay?
'i'll do anything for you to see you smile'
you said i could trust you
you let me down.
