Hazy Day Sunflower

No idea what the fuck I’m doing with my life. My entire life has imploded and welp maybe it is for the best. Maybe finally starting the 4th quarter of my life single is best.

Maybe just not being raped and abused is best. But FFS does change have to be so hard? I go back and forth between hope and hopelessness. Hate and sorrow. Nothing to show for almost two decades. Nothing but a few trinkets and well…

Thought of just putting a gun in my mouth again. I fantasize about that way too much. It never gets better, just gets different. I stuff it deep. I am insanely private in my life and rape, incest, drug abuse, mental illness, and just utter bullshit that has created the person I am today sometimes makes me want to just hit the hard restart button.

I don’t understand people. People are cruel, selfish, and I walk through my day baffled by just myself sometimes.

Well if you got this far..have a song. Kind of played out, but so am I.

These weird habits I have. I can trace them back to where they come from, and where they come from is not the topic of the post.

The topic is “Escape Route”. I’m in the office, bathroom, kitchen…anywhere I can be cornered and I’m always looking for an escape route. Especially if someone is anywhere near me. How fast can I get out of here, where is the exit…is that window unlocked…does that window open?

The things our minds do to protect us. What a remarkable organ. Escape routes. It isn’t just physical, I look for emotional escape routes too. This person is talking to me, how do I politely stop talking to them. What if they never stop talking? What if they ask me to do something I don’t want to do? What if…what if….what if…. it is endless.

I used to disappear for days, weeks. I miss the days when I could just stop paying my phone bill so no one could contact me. I miss the days when I could get in my car and no one could find me. I’d sleep in my car. My car, my escape. No more. Every fucking thing I own tracks me. My family worries when I’m unreachable. Exactly three people know I am suicidal. and not any of them would stop me. Because they respect my decision to leave on my own terms. To have my escape route, even if it is permanent.

Thinking of you friend. Wondering if you made it where you needed to be.

Are you still walking forward? do you still come here?

Much Love,

HDS

I’m about done with life right now. Done with being used sexually, emotionally, and financially. My current husband doesn’t seem to understand the word no. So I end up with bruises or traumatized. The other day I had to wear long sleeves because there was a bruise hand print on my lower arm. I had agreed to a little sex earlier in the day for that evening but just wasn’t up to it come night. I fell asleep and next thing I know he was not listening to me. I kept saying “I don’t want to, just let me go back to sleep”. In the end I gave him what he wanted and went back to sleep. I can’t live like this anymore. There isn’t any added value.

I know all the arguments. Do this, do that. Why didn’t you press charge, why are you so weak. I’m weak. I know this. This morning I woke up and life seemed pointless. I’m back on psyc meds just to keep my shit together for my kids, who need me. This is no time to explode our lives.

Everything is just going south. The job I love has become toxic, it was my refuge. It no longer is. I’m job searching but we all know with all the folks out of work I should be realistic.

This morning I considered going and buying a gun, driving to a State Park, getting out of the car, hiking in 10 miles and just sticking the gun in my mouth. Easy peasy. Which is why I don’t own a gun.

My brother has unloaded all his childhood trauma memories on me in the past month, he needed release. I had reinvented my childhood so most of what he told me was brand new to me. Guess I had it worse than I thought, or remembered. At least I have a good reason for my psychiatric issues, right? so there is my silver lining. Kind of puts all the pieces together for me too. My shitty record with men, my inability to connect with important people who love me. My fear of the weirdest things. All my crazy bathroom habits.

Well if you got this far, congrats. You are better than me, I would have checked out at childhood sexual trauma because I just don’t want to remember being repeatedly raped at age 6 and 12 by my own father. But thank you dear brother for telling me how you tried to keep me safe by locking me in your room with me at night. At least I got a few nights off. Not one adult intervened. No One. Only my 8 year old brother who was 4 years older than me, doing his best to save his sister, having gone through similar things at age 4.

So I’m debating the added value of what 10 or 20 more years in this world would hold. I mean is there added value? For you dear reader, I’m sure you could think of dozens for me. For me though? I’m living this, so at this point I’m not so sure. Death would be so peaceful.

HDS

Find where kindness resides, then build your home there.

I’m so lonely it is painful. 2020 has just been loss and a pit Three days out of 7 I’ve been thinking of just not existing. I’m stock piling my medicine because really what is the point. I just want a solid reboot.

Except there is no redo. No reboot. Just trudging forward.

Poured all my fucking fury into a fucking flower pic. Didn’t help at all.

What is the point of kindness when I have so much fury. Nothing changes, people are utter shit, even people I’ve known for 33 years are utter shit. This fucking world is utterly pointless.

We just exist to be used.

I am so utterly fucking lonely. Day in day out. Every fucking day of my life there is at least some amount of time when there is a black pit of loneliness in my life. This black pit I have poured just about everything I could into and the pit is endless. It never ends. Why do I just keep marching forward? Is there a point to marching forward when the pit is just fucking there?

I hike until I’m exhausted, bike until I can’t think, swim until I’m close to drowning, draw and draw and draw and please and ask and fuck you world. Just fuck you world. It doesn’t get better. It just gets different. If there is any hope it is that someday I will fucking shuffle off this mortal coil with no regrets because how can I regret just utter fucking loneliness?

This blind fury isn’t going away. I can’t make it stop and it is a steam roller that is going to consume me. It is consuming me. Not a fucking person in my life right now knows what kind of utter shit fest my brain has become. The one person I sat and talked with about this and his shit fest of an existence wrote me off after 33 years of friendship on week ago with four fucking text words. Four.

What is a life lived if not to….well ffs who cares right? People are selfish and do things for their own selfish ends, I’m not built that way. I wish to fuck sake I was built that way but I’m not and I’ve been injured in a way I can’t even describe. In a way I can even understand.

I don’t understand and the fury boils and boils and boils and there isn’t an end. Just the blind hot spiral that is currently my existence.

God I wish I could tell you to be kind and love yourself. I hate the world right now. Fucking hell I wish I could find where kindness resides and build my home there. But kindness resides nowhere. Kindness is a sham, a way for people to just suck me dry of everything I am and now I’m a husk. A husk with absolutely no end in sight except maybe just taking the rest of my RX and saying fuck you world, have it your way.

Kindness will reside in me and I will shuffle off this mortal coil and find peace anywhere but in on this awful planet where nothing makes sense and the entire worlds is just a fucking pond of fire.

Which is nice. I’ll leave this for folks who would just like some music.

Sand so hot on my feet.
You will never be mine.
I’ll meet you anyplace.

I’ll never find your garden.

It’s so quiet here lately. Site seems to have changed too, since there isn’t a running comments area any longer. Makes it harder to follow threads.

Change is……. right?

Hoping your days are gentle

Four hundred songs are quiet
As i reach to touch your hand
You the little blue bee, me a
Songbird flitting around lantana.

I have nothing tonight buy this lovely nocturne.

Love yourself.
Be Kind

ffs I’m so trashed I can’t even spell.

Got nothing tonight.

Decided to sink in a bottle of vodka.

Hazy: 0
Life: 1

Better version

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzsSe0fKcLw

Which is just fine.

Loving all the art everyone is posting.

Oh look it has a soundtrack.

I’m not going to be kind or love myself or anyone else tonight. Tapped out.

All is not lost though. Wildflower season is here. I may rally.

What the fuck does he care right? Just cruising in his POS life and fucking with my entire existence.

What the fuck does anyone care right? I woke up this morning and there was this empty bit that started to grow and I am so furious. Just red with anger and frustration. I want to swing a bat at him. Set him on fire.

But I won’t. I have the balloon string in my hand and have found a tree to tie it off on. Fuck me. Fuck my life. This one dimensional existence I bumble through.

Here is the soundtrack to my brain tonight.

But who the hell cares right? In my head I’m painting beauty, writing some new thought and I look around me in this hellhole I’m living in and it’s just me. Fucking loneliness and fright. I’d throw up if I had anything left in me but I don’t. Empty damn relationships. Paper. Wet paper and just a shitshow that won’t stop. I sat and thought wouldn’t it be nice to park myself in another’s soul. No point though because it is impossible.