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escapingthelabryinth · 1 year

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How can someone who makes me feel so safe also make me feel so invisible?

#open diary #writing page #dark academia #academia aesthetic #bookish #writing inspiration #excerpts #broken heart #missing you #I miss you #why is he like this #Love quotes #romance quotes #deep quotes

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riversrawblog · 6 months

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Intrusive Memories

When I let my mind wonder there’s a loop of memories that play. Not some happy childhood memories with laughter and squeals. Not some huge defining life moment. Instead it’s a bunch of small time stamps of my anxiety. A constant humiliation playlist. Therapy and medications it doesn’t make it go away. I’m five and I feel a sharp pain and warmness down my legs. The red tumble mat below me houses a puddle that’s pulling at my feet. I just peed my pants because I was too nervous to ask to go to the bathroom. I’m seven in second grade reading out loud in groups of two with my best friend and my teacher yells at me for using my “outside voice” my friend reassures me it’s okay it’s just how I talk but I’ll never speak up again. I’m eight I’m at a birthday party. We all gather around in the living room with plates of hotdogs. On my plate sits half a hot dog with some ketchup. I’m done eating but I just sit there. I sit there until my mom comes to get me because I didn’t know where the trash can was and I didn’t want to ask. It’s every time I went hunger because I couldn’t ask for a snack, every time I said no thank you when I desperately needed something. I want to remember something better, I want to see some smiles I want to hear some laughs. Instead I’m nine in my soccer jersey. I can’t breathe through the snot and tears because it’s picture day and I can’t do it. I’m getting yelled at because I can’t do it. I’m ten sitting in a basket reading a book through tears. I’m grounded because I can’t talk to the therapist. I’m getting screamed at being told it’s all in my head and I need to talk to this lady. The problem is it was in my head, anxiety so extreme I threw up everyday before school. I so desperately wanted to be normal.

-River

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longdariavampysilver · 2 months

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When i felt

Your embrace around my belly, i have throw away the air from the lungs, and the soft punch in the stomach has grown fast.The soft headache i had has passed when i hear the voice of my dad who has returned. And your delicate arms around my belly, has make beating strong my heart, and it has calmed me much.My heart is still beating hard.I can hear your soft and deep voice inside me, and our…

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#connection #connection of souls #emotions #feelings #Luke Arnold #Magic #Me #Open Diary #Our Closeness #Our Parallel World #sensations #together #you

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hidden-in-wonder · 27 days

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tú fuiste lo suficiente para mi. si fuera por mi siguiera escogiendo nuestro amor.

porque yo entiendo que el amor es una opción y puedo decir con el pecho

que yo nunca pare de escogerte y nuestra conexión porque yo sé que nunca habrá algo así. y también sé que

no ay nada en este mundo que no se puede intentar de arreglar, pero para eso tiene que ver el querer.

y yo ya entendí que contigo eso no existe porque yo nunca fui lo suficiente para ti.

y quizás lo suficiente que querías ya lo ayas encontrado

y por eso algo en mi me dice que tú nunca más escogerías nuestro amor.

so better to stay hidden in wonder than to have my heart broken all over again. right?

#open diary #notas de dolor #para tí #corazón triste #amor y dolor #ultimo

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vcbarrera · 6 months

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No estimado familiar , amigo o conocido:

la depresión no se me va a quitar tomando Fluoxetina o Xanax o cuánto fármaco existe para la regularización de los estados anímicos encuentre en el mercado; cuando los problemas estructurales que causan mi depresión no se van a ir mágicamente tomandolos; como el constante sentimiento de frustración,los pensamientos intrusivos, el constante vacío por no sentir que encajo en ninguna parte, el insomnio y la hipersomnia, las pérdidas de memoria, el profundo desgano y apatía hacia las cosas que amo hacer y que soy incapaz de física y mentalmente de hacer,lo pesado que se hace mi cuerpo al intentar levantarme y lograr terminar alguna jodida cosa y la incapacidad de tener en mis manos el control de muchos aspectos de mi propia vida esa continúan ahí por más conciente que sea de comer bien, dormir bien y hacer ejercicio;la depresión sigue ahí y más cuando constantemente se nos mide a cualquiera en este mundo por su valor productivo económico y no por el simple hecho de que valemos solo por qué vivimos y no nos rendimos ante una sociedad que nos redujo a productos de explotación por supervivencia.

Así que créame no es por gusto que vivo con esto, y no es en terapia conductual dónde su mejor opinión es formular fármacos que esto va a cambiar, lo que en realidad necesito es que se entienda de una vez que no es mi elección,que batallo con esto mucho y que sin importar en que rincón oscuro llegué a encontrarme trataré de no rendirme

#open diary #diario #tumblr diary

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boujeeceo · 2 years

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I'm realizing I'm a workaholic. Which would be great if my job wasn't killing me. Worked 50hrs this week in person and more at home as a salaried employee. Dumbest shit I've done this year. And now I have to get a gig app because I need more money so I can stay on track and get these surgeries, save this money and continue my businesses. Overworked and underpaid but this is gonna be worth it when I'm making 300$ a day in passive income at the end of this year.

#personal #update #ranting because i keep this all to myself in my day to day life #open diary

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reiish-writings · 2 years

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To the loves I have lost

To the people I left behind.

To the people who left me behind.

I hope for your healing. I think about the damage I’ve done.

I work for my healing, I think of the hurt you must have felt to direct such hurtful things towards me.

I hope when it all blows over and the wounds close and nothing but the scars remain you save a fond memory for me. Maybe a prayer for my success as well.

I still have to remind myself not to miss you too much.

#open diary #thoughts #dear diary #in my head #quotes #transparency #word vomit #wordporn #headspace #in my notes #my words #notepad #writerscorner #writerscommunity #writing #writbelr #writeaway #women writers #words of mine

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justahotmesshuman · 9 months

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Wow. I had ten million thoughts as I showered tonight, courtesy of Lemon Kush. Each one I committed to memory.

Then I step out of the shower and promptly remember “I need to google how to tell when cystic acne is going away.” Out of all the cool and creative things I pondered, I thought about how weird it is to age and how wild skin can be, the firmness, the texture…the laugh lines embedded a little deeper.

Anyway.

I used to journal in early 00’s. Open diary.com was, god, looking back, what saved me. I had done therapy before and just TALKING never felt like enough. I wasn’t aware of any other modes of therapy, so each therapist I saw it was just the same “So, what do you want to talk about today?” I needed give and take, I wanted to be challenged and made to think.

The community of FD was awesome. I would spend all day reading others diaries, and my mind was blown over HOW many different people are out there. I made a really great internet friend, that I still haven’t met IRL, but we drifted away sometime in the last couple of years. The point is that open diary (or was it freeopendiary.com) became my therapy. I unloaded so much utter shit that my soul felt like it had taken a big dump. I could feel myself getting better.

Open diary.com (freeopen diary.com?) is gone. I tried logging in years ago and found the website was completely gone. Just an error page. It was toast. I had lost my past, the triumphs that occasionally happened and the agony of defeat were wiped clean. Not to mention that damn cover that was PAINSTAKINGLY DESIGNED. All that code I learned for sweet colors and sparkles, customized to my every whim.

I was upset, there went my therapy history but I was proof that working through things as you write is so wonderful and freeing that I eventually realized that i couldn’t see it. Past me tried. She was raw and real and on the cusp of becoming a whole human. The me now can look back and see that hurts were mended, truths discovered and it made me feel OKAY.

On “about me” page I didn’t write about myself, I just posted a song lyric and no matter the background or font size, those words stayed ever the same.

And so it’s now my tag line to this revamped tumblr. (Had to keep a separate one for my weird interests)

I need to write again and expand and try to learn lessons again and just come with authenticity.

Here’s me. Stream of consciousness, ADHD in a big way, former over-sharer.

“2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song

If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me

Threatening the life it belongs to

And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd

'Cause these words are my diary screaming out loud

And I know that you'll use them however you want to…” Anna Nalick

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truthbyone · 1 year

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Loving Dream Part 2/3

The setting, around me are these skinny mountains , like the mountains at Zhangjiajie National Forest Park, as tall as big city buildings. At the base of each mountain were caves big enough to host a small group of people if needed. Interestingly the the mountains were surrounded by a vast lake of still water. The only thing not covered in water was the floor of the caves, and the stone pathways leading from cave to cave with enough space for two to walk on.

At the base was a large but spread out social gathering where you can socialize with others in each cave. I recognized many of the faces being people I ever considered a friend in life and grown close to. I became aware in the middle of a friend giving me encouragement that one day I'll find love again and when I do it'll just click. I'm accompanied by a familiar feeling at this point of jealousy of those who have love. While given this pep talk I noticed that my friends were accompanied with their significant others. It resulted in a hollow feeling that we're all accustomed to at some point in our lives. This feeling was short lived due to me hearing a familiar voice that hits me in the chest everytime I hear it approaching behind me "Hi".

Maka, even if they didn't know it I loved them in a way I told myself I didn't mind if they didn't know. In my eyes they were the definition of my meaning of Beautiful, and in a way shaped it. They were gorgeous with every feature you noticed about them especially their eye. I never knew I had a weakness for eye contact until them. They were smart & talented, and it really showed when it came up in conversation when you know more about a topic they're interested in. By the time you get back together they're on par if not beyond. In the case of the arts they've incorporated the idea to practical use in their work. Which leads me to the boundless potential that I see in them is almost endless. Time seems to slow down when I see them so I can notice all of this again as if brand new.

As they walk up the stone path saying gestures of greetings to surrounding friends we finally locked eyes. It was as if we were entranced by each other unable to break eye contact filling the empty space between eachother with meaningless smalltalk. I helped them step into the cave with one hand in palm and the other on the small of the back now turned into a prolonged gingerly embrace. The feeling of jealousy that consumed me prior faded away. That pounding in my chest finally calmed. What filled me was a sense of relaxation as I was in that moment with them.

I fade into the next dream...

#open diary #sweet dreams #i love you

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by-flwrchld · 2 years

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Two years

Going back home after two years wasn’t easy. I selfishly hoped that everything would remain the same, that home wouldn’t exist without me. When I finally arrived there, I had to process this reality through a smile. I was genuinely happy and mourning.

As if this wasn’t hard enough, people that I was once close with weren’t reachable anymore. I felt those two years, I saw what it did to us. We grew, not in a mature way but in a state of mind way. I hate and don’t believe in many things that are important and almost vital for them. That’s when I caught myself wishing for wrong things. For instance, to erase those two years. If it was possible, it would be the most violent thing I would’ve done to myself. So I just have to accept that time exists, that I will eventually lose or win things because of it.

#long distance relationship #with the past #open diary #home #byflowerchild #text #nostalgic #emotional

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escapingthelabryinth · 1 year

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Stealing glances across a crowded room because speaking to you is like having the air knocked out of me— it’s hard to breathe.

#open diary #writing page #dark academia #academia aesthetic #bookish #poetry #love poetry #deep quotes #love quotes #relationships #missing you #forgetting you #regretting you #letting go #excerpts #love excerpts #romance #romance quotes #romantic

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riversrawblog · 3 months

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Thought Of You

I caught myself thinking of you. I’ll admit I talk about you often still, it’s hard not to. You are the one I spent my teenage years with, the one I got my first place with, the one who taught me to drive, we were engaged and had a dog, and my family loved you like their own. You are my ultimate lure. However, you also taught me pain and grief and a lot of my thoughts about you are about the bad times. But tonight I wish I could reach out and tell you how fucking proud I am of you. How I am happy you are alive. Because even though we haven’t spoken in years you deserve to know that I’m so glad you were able to overcome your addiction I’m glad you were able to become a better person even if that better person wasn’t for me. I’m glad your life didn’t end the way so many of our friends did.

-River

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longdariavampysilver · 5 months

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When i feel

Your embrace around my waist it’s the most beautiful and exciting thing that i can feel when our closeness is around me. Our Parallel World each day is become stronger. I’m shaking the head, and throwing away the air from the lungs, when i feeling our electrick shocks crossing our minds. When they are stronger, i have difficulties to swallow, and i know that in these moments, in someways you are…

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#connection #connection of souls #emotions #feelings #Luke Arnold #Magic #Me #Open Diary #Our Closiness #Our Parallel World #sensations #together #you

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venus--diary · 2 years

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Day 1 - 7/10/22

It's finally been 1 week since October started which means it is officially cold weather season so if I relapse I can wear baggy sweaters and it won't raise any suspicion. I've just come out of a depressive episode but I still feel sluggish. Coming out of a depressive fucking fucking sucks as I have hardly any energy. I barely get any sleep in a depressive episode as I binge watch tv/YouTube, binge eat and just lie on my bed. I did go to school for the last couple of days in this episode. I was forced to go to school as I'm in year 11 and need to learn for my GCSEs. I think that being forced to go to school helped me come out of my depressive episode as it got me more active and productive which triggered something in my brain to produce more serotonin or something to get me out of this episode. I might go to the doctor's to see if I can get some antidepressants but I don't ideally want my parents to know that I have depression. My depressive episodes and my depression have somewhat gone unnoticed by my parents. I don't know why but it is what I am forever thankful for. I've also decided on my name, well I've narrowed it down to 2. I am thinking of choosing either Diana or Venus. I'm heavily leaning toward Venus, the Roman equivalent of Aphrodite, the greek goddess of sexual love and beauty. I've always had an obsession with Greek mythology which has influenced my decision. Diana is also a Roman equivalent to a Greek Goddess, Artemis. Artemis is a virgin goddess of hunting, the wilderness and nature. This name would be the winner because it's the name of my idol, Princess Diana. However, it is not the winner because I'm not a virgin and I thrive on sex and sexual acts. I'm going to stick to Venus for now but it might change in the future. I will probably change my last name as well. If you haven't guessed by now, I am transgender (MtF), which is the whole reason for a name change and it also distances me from my family. As of writing this entry, I'm slowly gaining energy and hopefully by tomorrow I might have enough energy to clean my room. A good night's sleep might help me get out of this sluggish phase. Lots of love, Venus.

Signing off at 21:03

#open diary #personal #journal

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vcbarrera · 2 years

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Yo nunca creí vivir tanto en tan poco.

Puedo ver una vannessa de 10 o 11 años en una marcha junto a mi mamá por la paz de Colombia. Con carteles que pedían la desmovilizacion pacífica de aquellos alzados en armas que abogaba a qué todos viviéramos juntos en este bello país en paz

luego años más tarde ver las protestas por las reformas de la ley 30 y los ataques a estudiantes que pedían más recursos.

Luego ver un gobierno que concretar un acuerdo de paz y un pueblo indolente que solo vio la guerra por televisión decirle que no a esta oportunidad. a pesar de que intentaron acabar con el acuerdo aún así se firmó y me alegré infinitamente por las víctimas para que al fin cerrarán ese capítulo doloroso de sus vidas y pudiera entrar la reconciliación y la no repetición. Pero de nuevo el pueblo indiferente busco con un gobierno mediocre hacerlo trizas con él llego el reencrudecimiento del conflicto armado y los cientos de desmovilizados masacrados. A pesar del odio y el revanchismo la esperanza no murió. Pero paso algo increíble, El silencio de los fusiles nos mostró que la corrupción era el verdadero cáncer ocasionado por un gobierno ausente y cruel. Y empezaron los sectores a exigir cambios, el paro agrario y camionero y la minga indígena fueron los primeros...llegó la pandemia y con ella fue evidente nuestra urgencia, el hambre no da espera y nuestra población más vulnerable fue quien pagó más gravemente.

Entonces llegó la reforma tributaria que detonó el descontento colectivo que por 3 años venía aumentando , no fue solo la pandemia lo que aumento nuestros problemas solo nos abrió los ojos ante una realidad que estábamos evadiendo y es que vida solo tenemos una y nuestra vida para este gobierno que llevaba 20 años reeligiendose en cuerpos ajenos les significabamos menos que el valor de la bala que nos mataba por protestar sobre el IVA en los alimentos.

Esperaban enterrar con muerte y sangre ese despertar y no lo lograron por qué éramos semillas.

Hoy es solo un inicio, como un día lo fue una firma en un papel entre colombianos que dejaron las armas para unirse a la paz.

Y solo nos queda abrir el corazón para vivir al fin juntos este bello país que hoy buscó el cambio

#elecciones 2022 #colombia humana #colombia #open diary #diario

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green5quirrel · 28 days

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Ugh. I'm bored.

I'm just gonna write some shit.

It's like "Morning Pages" except circa late 90's early 2000's Livejournal/OpenDiary style. So bear with me.

I've just updated my Bullet Journal. Even typing that makes me cringe. What would 20-something year old me think of a bullet journal? What would 20-something year old I don't fit in any boxes so don't try to put me in one think of writing on grid paper? I mean...it's ALL boxes, isn't it?

But this is my life, now. I write in Bullet Journals. I wear cardigans. I claw my way through the Artist's Way carefully excising the presence of religion. I don't have boobs (or nipples). Let's just say a lot of things have changed in the past two decades.

I go to this amazing little queer coffee house. I use the word "queer" unironically and also use it for myself. I go to this amazing little queer coffee house with its fairies dangling from fishing wire on the ceiling (like, doll fairies not the slur). These plastic folks are mostly Barbie dolls made to look like fairies and sway in the breeze of people walking by amid the lines of faux Edison bulb string lights and pride flag garland.

I go there every Wednesday. I meet up with a bunch of folks (folx? I dunno the current accepted spelling these days) and we do an iteration of Stitch and Bitch. Today I worked on my fanfiction.

After I left the café I went to an Ace Hardware store. I went there because I am an adult and uncool and also because I am working to get into clock repair as a hobby and had been there last week to pick up some tools that were not clock specific.

I met a 61 year old man called Bill there last week. He excitedly chatted to me about the clocks he'd inherited and sold and those he had kept. He has a mantel clock and wanted me to take a look at it. I declined. And I declined again after he insisted. I've not even cracked open a clock and taken out a movement. There's no way I'm working on a family heirloom.

He'll show me the picture of the clock next week as he wasn't able to get over there to take it on account of it being someone's birthday (his business partner's?). Bill shares his life like a person shares Halloween candy in a big plastic bowl on the first of November.

He likes my name. But he still refers to me as a girl. But he also treats me like he's excited to see me even though we've only met twice.

Bill once got paid a few thousand dollars to do some landscaping for a rich person and a few hundred to put in a tree. So, yeah, I consider those two things like tootsie rolls. The chocolate bars are when he talks about his family and how he supports them and his childhood in a watch shop with his dad while a parade of circus animals passes by.

At any rate, after I talked to Bill I went to an antique's mall nearby and scoured the shelves for anything that would be beneficial to my clock repair goals. I didn't find anything today, but that's okay. I'll go back in a couple of weeks.

I am struggling a little right now. So lemme give you all some quality Halloween candy, if you don't mind.

In 2020 my mom died of liver cancer. I had moved back to my hometown to help her and when she started to decline I decided that as soon as she had passed and I had come to terms with it I would move on and explore my options of where to live next.

In 2020 there weren't any options. There continued to not be options for a while after that. Now, as time has finally started to even out and pass like it's supposed to pass, instead of the slow/fast/manic/depressive pace it went through during the pandemic, I am suddenly left with possibility. And that is scary.

I have a partner in Canada who works in Michigan. So there is a thought to move there. But I'm not sure how my mood will go with the rain and cold. Still, Michigan seems safer than here below the Mason Dixon line.

Currently, in this moment, I am struggling not only with motivation and courage but also with working retail when my brain wants anything but to work in the toxic environment of the needy and the entitled.

I have no energy to be creative and my clock repair hobby is also crawling because of that lack of energy. I don't know how I used to do it. How did I sustain myself while expending so much time and energy on a job like this? It wasn't drugs. I wasn't cool enough for that. It must've been joy to some degree. Youth, certainly. Perhaps hope. Perhaps ignorance/naivety. Whatever it was I definitely don't have it anymore.

Was this meant to be an entry to whine in? No. It wasn't meant to be anything. It wasn't meant to be pithy or amusing or witty or motivational. It was meant to be an entry for boredom and reflect. So there it is. I've done it. I've succeeded.

Now to sacrifice myself to the fatigue that has been insisting on attention for an hour now and draw myself a warm blanket to lie in and drown in my dreams.

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