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I loved you so much it was making me sick.
Every touch I thought was loving planted seeds of decay, the tiredness that hung under my eyes, skin rough and dry as you sucked the moisture out of me with your kiss.
You drained my being, skin tinged purple and blue from your possessive love that tracked my every movement.
My brain mistook your words for comfort, safety and peace when they meant harm, isolation and turmoil.
My hands held onto your thorns for so long that they became scarred, the blood staining every bit of false niceties that flowed out of you and onto me.
I saw your aggression as protectiveness, your stinging words that dug into me like barbed wire as gospel.
You were a God and I, a mere mortal that clung to the power you had over me.
You weren't love. You never were.
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A love letter to 2023
Thank you 2023 for all of the amazing times with friends and family this year,
For all the love and growth that I was provided with.
Thank you for teaching me important lessons and allowing me to overcome so many obstacles in my path as a disabled, autistic woman who is learning to advocate for herself not only when it comes to Healthcare but also with setting healthy boundaries and sticking to them.
Thank you for teaching me how to love something other than myself completely and unconditionally (Yui, Rest in peace 🙏🏼) and for showing me the right way to handle my grief, void of drugs and alcohol.
Thank you for reconnecting me with my indigenous roots and teaching me how to be proud of who I am and thank you for giving me the right people in my life that supported me and loved me through some of my hardest times this past year.
It was a Rollercoaster of a year, spending time in the Psych unit, sitting for hours and hours on end in emerg from my endometriosis, crying until there's nothing left in me.
Going to the beach with my close friends, carefree and happy in the sun and finishing the night off with delicious pizza.
Hopping on my bike and adventuring off for days at a time.
Kayaking until my arms give out from fishing and portaging.
Camping and listening to all the wild animals in the dead of night.
Staying up all night watching my favorite shows and animes with the LOML.
And so much more.
Here's to bigger and better things in 2024.
Goodbye 2023...and thank you. ❤️
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Being disabled means you're never enough. No task is done good enough or quick enough.
Your pain is expected to be pushed onto the back burner to simmer and sizzle until it spills over the edges of the pot.
Expected to disappear into thin air like a cold breath in the winter.
The shaking of your hands is seen as weak, attention-seeking, asking for help is an inconvenience that everyone will remind you of.
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You're supposed to love me for who I am, supposed to be there for me the way I am there for you. But that isn't my reality sometimes.
You complain about my chronic health conditions, say I'm always tired and that I never want to do anything which isn't true. You put me down because I say I'm tired and you tell me that you agree with my abusive parents because I "use my health against people" or "use my health to stay in bed" when in reality I'm suffering much more than you'd know, trying to keep a happy facade so I don't tick you off.
Trying not to be the whiny little bitch you apparently think I am. If I could lend you my pain and my fatigue, my mental tiredness even for just a couple of days, you would see. You would understand.
I guess I'll just do my best to hide it from now on.
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mentallyunstables-blog · 10 months
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Just because I'm the caretaker doesn't mean I wish to do everything myself -Mirielle
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mentallyunstables-blog · 11 months
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My city here in Canada is like this too
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Canadian wildfire smoke creates hazy skies and unhealthy polluted air quality in New York City (2023)
The sun is shrouded as it rises in a hazy, smoky sky behind the Empire State Building, One Vanderbilt and the Chrysler Building in NYC.
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mentallyunstables-blog · 11 months
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you can cross stitch whatever you want. no one will stop you
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mentallyunstables-blog · 11 months
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Everyone likes my friend's boobs which are pretty much the same as mine were both a C cup but it makes me so self conscious.
Nobody compliments me like that.
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The emptiness left by their absence feels heavier every day.
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You fucked with my head, sold my heart and soul to your own personal devil. And for what? A sense of control?
Was I ever anything more to you than a chained beast used for whenever you needed a shred of power?
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“It’s all messy: the hair, the bed, the words, the heart. Life.”
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The deep sky filled with stars, the lights of the highway and cool wind coming in from the sunroof. Music is blasting, we're both smiling.
What happened to us?
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If this was meant for me, why does it hurt so much, and if you're not right for me, why did we fall in love? :(
-A
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I literally can't escape anything lmao. I miss doing drugs
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Of course I'm always the villain. Every time something happens it's my fault. I'm tired of being blamed for everything. I get it.
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Amen to that
Sometimes I want to let the mental illness consume me fully so I can stop fighting and not be exhausted anymore. Sometimes I want to give up and feel the release.
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Yeah or something in me just snaps
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