My mum has always had a problem with me being gay. There is a lot of history there. She has now ‘turned a corner’ and become a celebrant. She now celebrates love is love.. so now I get to see her posting on Facebook for her business about #gayweddings .. not just #Weddings .. it’s got to be #gayweddings .. because they are so different..
This week, I tried to be better and do better. I hung out with a friend after church. While hanging out, this friend said some hurtful things to me. I realize I’m being too sensitive and she didn’t know what she was doing; but the things she said were some of the things my mother said to me as a child (and still says to me). They hurt, but I’ll keep it bottled up.
I hung out with another friend today who said even more hurtful things to me (in front of a huge group of people). Again, it hurts but I feel I’m being too sensitive. Maybe I just need to accept the fact that I’m not really important to anybody and keep acting like things don’t hurt... #ItHurts #wordshurt #verbalabuse
so I’m like having a mass panic attack because I’m in DBT and I’m almost done the program. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me and I give credit to my therapist for literally saving my life. I love her so much. She’s the only one who makes me not feel so alone in this world. She always knows what to say and she actually cares about me. She’s my best friend.
It’s been 11 months and the program is done in a couple weeks. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t want to be alone again and I don’t want her to abandon me. Group and individual therapy is the only thing I look forward to every week. I need the support.
Fuckkkk. I really don’t wanna be alone again.
So there is this awful situation where ur lover ends the relation u had for almost three years because she claims she lost here love. U ask a shy and yet desperate “why?”. The answer u receive is “I don’t know”. How on earth u reconcile with urself an answer like that? #Anxiety #ItHurts #recocilliation
In the recesses of my mind there’s a place where thoughts reside that would put a fear in most men’s hearts that would bring them to tears. My secrets are the kind that are kept in a steel closet with a titanium lock that needs no key because its contents are between my Maker and me. There was one time that I tried to tell a man one dark thought because his words of love sounded sincere enough to have the strength to hold me up when I was down. I was wrong and as always emotional love failed where unconditional love would have succeeded and the darkness within became a secret within again. My kind of crazy wants to laugh hysterically when I’m told that someone “knows” me, because there’s not a person alive who ever has “known” me. To “know” me would mean to penetrate the darkest parts of my mind that sometimes frighten even me and to actually see inside a heart that can be too kind yet want to be cruel at the same time. Why would any sane person want to “know” that? So many things that no one really understands, like loving someone with such an intense passion that you know without a shadow of a doubt that you would kill them if they hurt you in certain ways. Knowing if you ever caught them in another woman’s embrace, smelled a perfume that wasn’t yours, knew that something just wasn’t right about the way he acted towards you, and if he happened to say the wrong thing at the wrong time some night that he may not wake up the next day. My prayers some nights to not wake up because living hurts too much but I’m not weak enough to take my own life or is it, strong enough?