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My anxiety always, ALWAYS cranks my adrenaline.

whether its because a doctor is coming at me with a needle full of sedatives, stressed out at work or simply just can’t shut my brain off.

because I get home at 3 Am its always nearly impossible for me to sleep when I get home.

I try so hard but my brain just moves a mile a minute.

Even at work I can’t sit still unless I don’t feel well. I’ll try and stay in the chair/at the register (although I do also just feel bad for my coworker cause she prefers to sit, AKA guilt trip myself)

I will be sitting and then just jump outta the chair and start pacing subconsciously, going inside and out.

Then I walk home, basically across most of Boston.

By the time I’m home, yes, my body is tired..but my mind is racing, so I can’t sleep and have to do it again today.

much fun.

How do I see red flags and just naturally go *well he seems like a total fucking mess, this will be fun*

Those are three things I haven’t personally experienced.

I mean, I have a whole novel worth of craziness i’ve lived/experienced and too many diagnoses’s for it to really make all that much sense to begin with.

So why am I not enjoying that instead of crashing head first into it over and over. Im doomed

I’m basically just chilling around with my boots, and a flannel then a big ol’ tattoo on my forehead that says “ruin my life please”

like to joke and refer to myself as the “mean one” at the desk at work.

But really Im not mean, I just stop acknowledging you if your annoying me and let my coworker handle you.

straight up *stops listening, looks out window*

The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, over here teaching me quality DBT skills.

…psh& people think reality TV is stupid…

“He looks asleep out there, those two are like whispering sweet nothings to assholes instead of kicking them out, and that one is squatting because he’s tired of standing. Im over here hip checking lil twerps inside and your gonna lose your voice from yelling. This is rough, they need to get it together”

~ knuckle puck

No more meds mixed with alcohol *

I’ll end up with a never ending migraine, texts I regret sending and now a fucking baby.

Pull it together girlfriend.

(AKA almost home)

Walking behind a couple. but this guy is extra af. acting like hes in a romcom. dramatic laughing, while wearing a long beige peacoat…I think I even saw him do a lil tap dance with a twirl (kidding, but wouldn’t that be fun)

Then my podcast was interrupted by a commercial featuring Micheal Bublé

I got an icky feeling and hightailed it past those goobers

side note- my podcast was disturbed by Bublé AGAIN, in the same spot the very next night.

GO AWAY BRUH. I’m just not a jazz hands, kinda gal.

Coping skills that hurt to distract.

I walk by the first apartment I was every assaulted in two times a week. Usually around 12-2 AM.

I usually feel strong as I walk by.

Last night it bothered me more than usual.

I think I was subconsciously triggered by a guy on dope nodding off in the middle of Boylston St (and grabbing two sitting cops to try and help him. who didn’t move, just pretended to care. as they used to do also)

That was what was only the beginning of years of abuse.

And out of all those fights and attacks, I was ALWAYS told. “walk away when it starts getting bad”

The most screwed up part of that statement is how many times I did. That first night, (the night I realized he was actually abusive, it wasn’t minor anger problems) I WAS walking away.

I had my bags and I was in the elevator trying to get from the 4th floor to the front door.

He was screaming obscenities as I walked out the door and stepped in the elevator, before walking towards where I was.

As the door to the elevator was closing, he had an evil grin on his face while snickering at his crying girlfriend that he “loved”

Just as the door was almost shut, and I had almost made it out, he pulls it back open and before I could even lift my arms to protect myself or see anything coming I was gushing blood from my nose.

He had punched right in the face. The 6’2 grown man, punched his 5’2 and 115 pound girlfriend right in the face, turned around without a care and walked back in and shut the door to his apartment.

Not knowing what to do and being completely discombobulated, all I could do is crawl back to his door.

I opened the door and said “Why did you do that? look what you did?”

Ive been hit before, many times. It was part of growing up.

But no one, had ever just straight up punched me directly in the face out of pure evilness.

He opened the door, and noticed what he did. All of a sudden he cared, and was on the floor trying to take care of me and stop the blood.

Rushing me inside to avoid anyone seeing what he had done, apologizing repetitively.

That was the first time we sent him to detox, and just the beginning of over a year of more abuse.

I knew how to walk away, and I tried for a long time. There was no walking away, he wouldn’t allow it until neither of us had nothing left to lose.

Last night I noticed my fingernails automatically start digging into the skin on my hands to contain my composure.

Trauma doesn’t ever leave for good. You really only have one choice.

Accept it, face it, learn from it and just try and move on.

There is nothing worse than leather seats in an uber, when its hot outside.

plus all the windows are up, so I think Im also gonna suffocate or faint.