Sometimes you feel lonely and these are my lonely thoughts.


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.


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.


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


This morning I had a really impactful meeting with my counsellor. 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I have very deep rooted issues surrounding intimacy, and I have an impossibly difficult time untangling my feeling of safety from my fear of being intimate with someone.

This post deserves a trigger warning so here it is. Please don’t read this if you feel like you could potentially be triggered, I want you all to stay safe and feel safe and if this post won’t help with that, please feel free to skip it. 

“There is a strong difference between education and forcing a child to  describe to them  the sexual acts they carry out with their current boyfriend and or girlfriend” 

I’m all for educating kids about how to have safe sex, 110%. Use all of the protection please!!! Condoms and dams, The pill, the patch, the ring, the shot or an IUD. Whatever you do, do it safely and consensually

But there is a major difference between telling your son or daughter to use a condom and asking them if they liked giving a hand job.

It’s taken me a painfully long time to understand this, and I think that it really only came in to focus for me today.

I have had a lot of really fucked up things happen to me, and my ideas and feelings about intimacy are very skewed. Quite frankly I’m fucking terrified to be with anyone because of the ways that my step father painted these acts to be. The way he pried at me to answer all of his inappropriate, disgusting questions. How uncomfortable that made me feel and the fact that he didn’t stop when I asked him to.

I have definitely come to realize this for myself, that I do need to work on this if I want to go on in life having meaningful relationships, which I crave so much.

I crave intimacy,  and that’s okay.

I want to be held and have my hair brushed behind my ear so that you can kiss me on the cheek.

I want to be able to have you ask me what I like without me feeling like I have a film of scum covering my entire body.

I want to be able to separate my trauma from future life experiences.

I know that with time I will be able to, but it is so frustrating to live in a world where so few people will understand that I need time to even be able to be physically intimate (Which is how meaningful sex should be anyway???)

Five moths ago my counsellor told me that I should steer clear of relationships for a while, as I had been treating them like someone turns to alcohol when they’re hurting. I was doing the same thing, but seeking out a relationship to bury my  resentment, my fear and the pain that I was experiencing.

Today she encouraged me to get out there and meet someone. She said that right now, it would be really healthy for me to find someone healthy and have fun with that person. She encouraged me to live the normal life that I want to live.

I’m so proud of that, because I did that for myself. I can tell that I’m getting better and I haven’t been able to say that for a very long time,

But there’s still a long way to go.


All my love,

Megan xx


It shouldn’t come as a surprise that

I have major trust issues.

Sometimes this still surprises me, even though it effects every aspect of my life without me even noticing it at times.

I’m often tentative to make friends

because I was always someones last

choice, always plan C.

I don’t trust a lot of older people either.

I don’t often trust older white males especially.

When it comes to new relationships though, it brings this all in to focus for me.

With a new relationship comes learning new things about yourself and another fellow human being. It takes me a little while to truly open up to someone, because so may people would go running if they heard half of the shit that I’ve had to go through.


Yes, I am damaged.


But I’m bent, not broken you


To be honest, all of this shit that I have managed to pull myself through has made me a much better person and I’m damn proud of myself for not giving up when I wanted to most for

So. Damn. Long.

But when you get in to something where someone doesn’t necessarily understand, or want to respect why you do the things that you do, it is really discouraging.

I just want to be loved, isn’t that

what everyone wants?

I want to be loved by friends,

by family,

by someone that I don’t know yet.

Every part of my being wants to be loved by someone but every part of me is scared as hell of that at the same time.

How do you explain to

someone that you want to

be intimate, but you don’t?

I mean, I understand that statement, and another survivor probably would too, but when you’re with a new person, how do you tell them that

“I’m super in to you and this, but

every part of me isn’t”.

So many people can’t respect that, and I know that those aren’t the people you should be with,

but it’s more than discouraging when so few people can grasp that concept.

It genuinely baffles me how some people can just, lie down and have casual sex. I don’t mean that in a shaming way, it genuinely comes from a place of jealousy.

Sex is not a casual thing for me, at

all. If anything it scares the shit out

of me.

It’s the most intimate and vulnerable that you can possibly be with another human, and heaven knows that I hate to be vulnerable.

I often wonder if all this counselling, these medications, my hard work and effort will ever change the way that I look at sex. Will I ever get to the point where I could just engage in that casually?

Could I feel safe?

Could I feel comfortable?

And the answer is I don’t know.

I know this post wasn’t a whole lot of positivity, sunshine and rainbows.

But I’m at a place right now where I’m questioning a lot of this and I think recovery is most definitely not a straight forward journey.

There will be both good days and bad days.

I hope you bear with me even on the not so good days too ❤️


All my love

Megan xx

Being sexy AND traumatized

This whole post requires a trigger warning, and is hard to write myself. If you have been assaulted, abused or harassed in any way, this post could be very triggering. So please, take care of yourself. 



Ahh my first post about sex.

It’s a natural thing,

It feels great and it’s fun as fuck.

But when you’ve been sexually harassed or assaulted,

it’s a whole other ball game.

It’s like being colour blind.

You see everything black and white, while everyone else can see the colour around them.

You only see sex as a scary thing, there is no fun in it, there is no pleasure. There is no colour.

And no one else can understand that you don’t see the beautiful colours like you used to.

And I hate that.

So much of me is furious with my perpetrator for ruining this great thing for me.

He’s everywhere, in every situation I’m in.

He’s there nagging at me when I want to be intimate with someone saying

“He’s going to force you in to fucking him”

And it makes me so god damn mad that almost three years later, I still have those intrusive thoughts.

Trust is huge for me.

I’m generally pretty open talking about my assault, and if I’m comfortable I’ll usually tell people that I’ve had a really bad experience with sex driven activities, and that

consent is huge for me. 

I’ll ask YOU if you’re okay.

And I’ll expect YOU to do the same.

even if you have no idea of what I’ve been through.

I strongly believe that communication is key to ANY relationship. 

and for the love of god,



because more often than not, they’re probably right.

Tell someone that they’re making you uncomfortable if they are. 

Get the hell out of the situation that’s making you uncomfortable.

Call someone you trust if you need to get out of a situation.



Something that I try to tell myself is:

If you feel safe and comfortable with someone,

  • You’re allowed to feel good and happy.
  • You’re allowed to feel pleasure.
  • You’re allowed to enjoy yourself in the moment that you’re in. 

Be patient with yourself,


You deserve to feel safety

and happiness,


And you will someday.


All my love

-Megan xx