The Inner Workings of my Mind

I wake up to another horrible night[day]mare, crawl out of bed and, avoiding the mirror for fear that it will crack right down the middle, grab the hairbrush and run it through by memory. I get dressed in loose clothing, never something tight that would cling to my body [who would want to see all the fat there anyway?], no make-up [there's no help for your face] and run out the door [skip food for your own good]. Rarely do I ever want to eat [it would go straight to your stomach or ass and add to what's there!] so I run on what energy exists till I feel my stomach complain that I have to eat something or I will pass out. I can't let the world know that I attempt to starve myself of any food because they will get mad [{you better eat or I'm going to be very angry with you!}] says one of them. Not many know my secret obsession. I wish only to be beautiful, to be skinny, to feel comfortable with my body [like that will ever happen!] and wear those pr

I am you -- you are me. Two halves of the same being,            yet completely different. Never here nor there,           personalities clash, we fall back. Marching to the same beat,           living the same war; living, breathing,           and watching others fall -- The casualties all fall down. You and I, we are closer than others. No one sees our bond, no one sees           us fight the same battle. Against each other, yet step-in-step,           neck-in-neck, through-and-through. Emotions flare, tears fall,           words are thrown carelessly. All of this we share with the            beat of one heart -- The war of the mind. Silently, the attacks begin. Creeping slowly, wordless, breathless           for the kill shot. Which side will be the first to give in? --           who will be the first to die? Exhausted, scared, hopeless and           frightened ... it's been long enough. Couldn't we stop this war?           Enough casualties hav

I ache to feel the bones that are hidden under the skin,  to touch them, break them, probe the marrow that is hidden  within their  shell.  Watch the blood discolor the skin, drip onto the floor  like shards of glass, shards of my  former self, shattered.  I want to watch as the moonlight shines on what's  left of me, the pieces I'll never fit back together, like a broken mirror, a shadow  of who I used to be that is fading away, it doesn't belong in this world. Watch as the hallow, empty  shell of a person turns to dust and the wind from an open window carries it away.  All that's left is an empty space; a void that another will one day rise to fill. A whisper, a half-forgotten memory,  an echo of a shadow, the breeze from a flutter of wings, the dust being carried on the wind. 

This is a lot. You don't have to read all of it. I just feel it's kind of fair to tell you this stuff. And I mean...you've been super honest with me. So it's my turn. You know my dad died when I was three. When I was four, my cousin's friend would come over after school. He was around 12 or 14. He molested me for years. It finally stopped when I was in 4th grade. The counselors came in the classrooms and showed us some videos about sexual abuse. There were three of us girls who came forward about what was going on with us. My cousin has always been upset with himself for not telling anyone when I told him. But I don't blame him. I learned long ago it was the boy’s fault. When I was 14, I had a boyfriend who tried to rape me. He hurt me physically and left bruises on me. I finally had to go to the principal at school but still, nothing happened to him. That was when I finally lost control and my depression came about. I cut myself for the first time in

I'm not really sure what exactly is going on. I feel a little confused, I'm questioning myself, second-guessing myself, second-guessing my life.  I think my depression is kicking back up and causing a stir in everything. I've been more tired than usual, mentally drained, and just ... off. But maybe that's just how my life will be, on-again-off-again depression and anxiety. If so, I'll just have to get used to it eventually.  I know ... that's a terrible way to put it. But I worry too much. I'm so scared. Why am I like this?  The real me isn't exactly pleasant. The real us are disappointments. It'll be okay. We have each other.  

Homework, homework, and more homework. I only have 6 more classes until I graduate with my bachelor's. Two of those 6 I'm currently taking. So 4 left after this term. I feel like I'm drowning in homework, errands, work, and cleaning. No breaks.  My boyfriend helps a lot. He helps with the cooking, laundry, and yardwork. I'm thankful for that. There's nothing he can do when it comes to my homework or job. But after I graduate, he may be hunting for a degree, be it trade school or otherwise. He could easily change his mind, of course. I'm actually hopeful that he goes through with it. I worry about how long his job position will last. Anything could happen and the company could shut down. That would not be good for our mortgage payment and other bills. But if I were able to find a job that pays well enough, I wouldn't mind if he stayed home. Especially if we were able to one day have a baby. If he were a stay at home dad, that would be fine.  I miss not be