The Embers

I was never yours because I never truly belonged to myself.

A year and a half ago now, I had my heart ripped from my chest, more than that, I lost my identity.

For a painstakingly long eighteen months, I stuck around, because you made me believe that no one else, not even myself could ever love me. I fell out of touch with reality because you had convinced me that you and I were the only thing in this entire universe that mattered.

Not my friends, my family or my own well being.

I remember the nights that we’d argue until you’d storm out, turn around and blame me for everything that was wrong in our relationship. The nights that you would tell me that my family didn’t love me. The nights that you’d tell me how much you hated my friends and relatives.

The night that I started to believe you. 

The night that I started to push everyone out of my life, for you convinced me that if I didn’t, you wouldn’t love me anymore. You would leave me if you weren’t the only person that held importance in my life.

But that is not what love is.

I believed you because I didn’t believe in myself.

I began to lose the sense of who I was, meanwhile the lines between love and abuse became blurred. 

The best thing that you ever did was leave me. Thank you for walking out on me, for it made me realize how out of touch I was to the world outside of my relationship.

I hadn’t realized how much you had tainted my thought process, and how much your previous actions, the way that you treated me did and continue to affect the building of new connections.

For I am terrified of being emotionally abused. I’m scared that each and every person out there is just like you, selfish, ignorant, narcissistic and manipulative. I’ve been working so hard towards not feeling this way with unfamiliar people and attempting to go into something with a positive mindset to achieve a positive outcome. But how do I not put these walls up? The only person following you to break them down broke my heart along with them.

So the answer to your question, do I still love you,

I never loved you. I was infatuated with the concept of being in love,  but what we had, was cruel. Your deep burning hatred for others and yourself not only lit you on fire, but left me a pile of embers in the aftermath.

Don’t kid yourself.

Because my fire burns bigger and brighter than it ever has before and I built myself back up, not you.

Not for you, but for my own healing and inner peace,

I wish you the best of luck in your recovery, Jess.

 

Megan

 

Sometimes you feel lonely and these are my lonely thoughts.

Disclaimer

I wrote this a few months ago, and while I have not been feeling as hopeless as of late but I’ve decided to post it anyway because I know how isolated and lonely depression can make you feel.

I preach it that we are not alone yet when you’re in the thick of it all, sometimes you have to allow yourself to feel the hurt, and that’s okay too. 

aNyWhO I love you and you are loved and precious and beautiful, always.

Here ya go, babies.


So when is it that I’m not going to feel overwhelmingly numb and gloomy all of the time? Because an ETR would be nice (Estimated Time of Recovery, never heard of it? I just made it up so poof there you go. Feel free to use it. You’re welcome)

I know that my posts have been more melancholy lately and for that I am sorry. I really want this to be a safe place for all of you, but at the same time it is a safe place for me as well, and if I’m being completely honest I don’t know how I’m doing as of late.

There’s been a lot of really shitty things happen recently that have proven to be extremely overwhelming.

And there have been plenty of really great things as well.

But what scares me about all of these good things that are happening is how numb I continue to feel despite all of the positives.

Is this something that a lot of you deal with as well? I haven’t felt this kind of hopelessness before and it’s really difficult to process for me. You know, I feel myself falling back into unhealthy habits again and I fear that it’s only the beginning of the end again.

I am afraid that tomorrow when the morning sunlight kisses my eyelids that I will no longer feel its warmth.

How long is recovery?

That’s a rhetorical question, of course. Everyone is different. Our paths and futures may or may not intertwine and are all unique. But why does mine feel like it’s constantly sloping downhill regardless of how hard I try?

I’m tired of being tired regardless of the amount of sleep that I get. I’m sick of getting so little joy and fulfillment out of the things that once gave me so much purpose.

Don’t get me wrong, there are still good days.

But sometimes it feels like they’re becoming more few and far between.

I still feel love, I love my friends. I love my family and I love myself.

But I hate that I have so much hurt inside of me, so much of the time.

I love you all,

that is all.

 

 

All my love,

Megan xx

 

 

 

Hello beautiful humans!

Alas, I am alive and not amazing but not terrible either so that’s something.

I am so sorry that I fell off the face of the earth for the past month and a half. I unexpectedly had to have my computer serviced and then had to take it to a second place and jump through a bunch of hoops to actually have it fixed.

BUT HERE I AM, HELLO

Besides having my laptop shit the bed, I have had a lot of things come up for me, both good and bad and they have really impacted my life more than I had anticipated.

When March rolled around I decided that there were better opportunities for me in the restaurant industry as a server, so I decided to go for a position at a local restaurant.

Low and behold, I got hired on the spot and started training the following day.

HOLY, SHIT IS MOVING FAST EH

In early April, my Dad came to visit me and we had a lovely time.

In the days following his departure back home, I had gum surgery which was obviously a damn party.

What else would you expect when having your gums cut up and sewn back together again?

While blogging under the influence of Tylenol three’s may have been entertaining, I decided against that.

The day after my surgery, I got some really disappointing news which genuinely tore me up for a few weeks. I didn’t get into University this year because I was missing three credits which I was previously told in high school that I didn’t need to get into a post-secondary institution.

So that was pretty hard to swallow.

Since then I’ve enrolled in two online classes and have been working on them whenever I’m able to find time between my two jobs, counselling appointments and time with friends.

As much as all of these things have kept me very busy, I’ve genuinely missed writing to you folks and I miss writing for me too.

I truly hope that this post finds you well and that you’re all taking care of yourselves.

I look forward to writing more soon and until then,

all my love,

 

Megan xx

 

Black Sheep

I am the black sheep.

In a world full of the most angelic, white and fluffy critters.

I have, and always will be the black sheep.

We don’t talk about the way that abuse changes us. We don’t talk about it because we don’t like to think about nor acknowledge that it even exists.

Instead we talk about the trial, the accusations, the witnesses and the jail time.

What we fail to do acknowledge is the impact that the abuse and/or assault has on both their every day lives and their future.

I personally believe that a lot of people feel uncomfortable talking about the subject,

because the thought of it happening to us, to your mother, your children, your friend or your sibling is unsettling.

But do you have any idea of how unsettling it is for us?

Even after being in counselling for over four years and being on medication for three I wake up every day and hope that it’s not one of the “bad” days.

The days where getting out of bed seems next to impossible.

The days where I literally feel nothing.

The days when I don’t eat until 9PM because I sometimes feel like I don’t deserve to.

We don’t talk about the way that the depression and anxiety lasts so long that it has literally outdated all of my friends.

 

It doesn’t just go away, and we pretend like it does and it is not healthy. We set up counselling services for victims of assault and we publish that they’re being supported (which is amazing, in no way am I saying that it isn’t) but we pretend like that’s the end of the road.

And it’s not even the beginning.

 

We don’t talk about the un painted line of segregation between yourself and others that distance themselves from you because they no longer know how to interact with you after finding out what has happened to you. As if you’re a completely different person than the one that they so “formerly” knew.

We don’t talk about the most pitiful looks that you start to get from strangers like you’re a bird with two broken wings.


Trigger warning

 


We don’t talk about the restless nights in bed, unable to sleep because I felt you watching me through your sick eyes.

We don’t talk about the early mornings that I woke up in full fledged panic for I had dreamt that you had pinned me down on the couch, duct taped my mouth and raped me.

We don’t talk about the fact that I woke up nearly screaming crying because I couldn’t let even a whisper out from my mouth in the dream.


I fear that we live in a world where these things get swept under the carpet so often that they will remain there until we decide to pull them out again.

And far too often we choose not to.

Don’t get me wrong, we have gotten better as a society but we still need to work together in supporting our survivors and encouraging them to heal by listening and showing compassion towards them.

Something that I think stops a lot of people from engaging with survivors about their abuse is the fear of triggering them, and while it’s very considerate to think that,

A lot of us just want someone to listen.

To not run away when things get ugly.

To not walk out on us.

My abuse has made me feel extremely isolated from my friends, my family and relationships because I process things differently.

But please, don’t be afraid to ask me how I’m doing, it genuinely means the world to me to know that you care about my wellbeing.

Ask us if we are okay, (here’s the important parts) and be there for us if we aren’t.

Be there for us when we are.

Recovery is not a one way street, there will be ups and there will be downs. Don’t be afraid to tag along for the ride, because we are some of the most dynamic, compassionate and deeply loving people that exist.

For that and many other reasons listed above and in other said posts, we are different.

I am different, and I am proud of it.

We are the black sheep, and we are not alone, but we are ready to be heard.

 

All my love,

Megan xx