Anger. Love. You. — September 28, 2016

Anger. Love. You.

Anger clouds your mind.
It ruins your soul
and transforms your heart to ice.
“Anger is a two-edged sword.”
It’ll bleed you dry if you allow it.

“Anger is a misdirected plea for love.”
Love is the answer.
Love opens your heart and soul.
Yes, it makes you vulnerable,
but, “to love is to be vulnerable.”

Don’t you want love?

I know I do.
Please love.
Love me.
Love something.
Most of all, please love yourself.
It is always about you
and will always be.

Pity Party turned Pep Talk. — September 19, 2016

Pity Party turned Pep Talk.

There’s no one. 

That’s not true. That’s the lie the depression likes to feed me whenever some kind of shit hits the fan in my life.

There *are* people. They just cannot be with you 24/7. They can’t hold you when you want to cry your eyes out for seemingly no reasons. They can’t be there for you when you feel like you really need someone to be there.

Why not? you ask.

Because Steph, you need to learn how to do it yourself. Sure, no one is there to physically hug you or hold you, but you need to learn how to reach inside yourself, past all the darkness and voids and emptiness and you need to be there for yourself. 

Whether or not that means bawling your eyes out until you’re just hiccuping.
And/Or ranting out loud to no one but empty air.

Whatever you need to do for yourself, JUST FUCKING DO IT.

Sorry babe, but you’re in this one alone.

And you know what?

That’s perfectly okay. It is okay because you can always learn how to be with other people, again.

But this – this learning to deal with your issues alone is something you need to master first before you start relying on anyone else. Once you’ve got relying on yourself down packed, then you can include others. If you do it the other way around, you’ll be lost amongst everyone’s opinions and thoughts. You won’t know which way is up or down. You’ll do things based on how others view you and what their expectations are.

Which is why you’re here in the first place.

It’s not wholly about Adam or your mom or your family. It’s about YOU and what you want and what you need.

Figure that out and then figure out who you want to include.

But, please, PLEASE, dear God I’m begging you, express, express, express. Express how you goddamn feel and think. And when people challenge you, you don’t even have to goddamn answer. You can shrug your shoulders or nod your head and move on.

You drop your shit all the time for people. Drop your shit for yourself. Drop caring so much about others because it is fucking ruining your life. You fucking matter on this earth. You fucking matter despite others that barely give a shit about you.


It’s not selfish. Okay, maybe it is. But who fucking cares at this point in time? You are destroying yourself and no one will realize it unless you are permanently removed from their life.

Do you really want that? Or do you want to feel fulfilled every goddamn day of your life? (Ok, the majority of your life since you’re inclined to have bad days.)

Come on. This stage in your life is only the beginning. Do you really want to give up now after 2 1/2 weeks and go crawling back to your parents? Yes, they tried so very hard for you to have a good life, but now, IT’S UP TO YOU, BABE.

C’MON BABE, YOU GOT THIS. Yes, your shoes are soggy and your clothes are wet, but your goddamn soul is still alive and burning inside of you. Cry, whine, bitch and moan, but eventually, STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF AND GO DO SOME FUCKING WORK. Even if it’s just unloading the laundry. Or writing a list of errands. Or even walking home from the train station. Whatever. Complete at least one thing tonight and be proud of yourself. Give yourself a fucking high 5 right after you’ve done with whatever it is. And rinse and repeat. Sure, the list seems like it never ends, but each day is an accomplishment because you are still alive.

You don’t get to choose when you die, but you get to choose how you live.

And as long as you’re alive, YOU FUCKING GOT THIS.

Reminder. — August 26, 2016
Done. — August 24, 2016
Who You Are. — August 19, 2016

Who You Are.

Someone’s quote from 2015:

“Who you are as a person is a trick question. No one ever finds themselves. The people who do are liars and people searching are lost. To ‘know yourself’ is being comfortable with yourself and what you want from one moment to the next. It’s a flowing idea, it never stops changing and never culminates.”

Daily Prompt: Confused — August 15, 2016
Wise Words. — May 31, 2016
Knowing. — May 28, 2016
Lo and Behold. — May 24, 2016

Lo and Behold.

Will I ever be whole?
I thought the road to making ourselves whole,
was a lifelong journey?

“Love yourself first before loving others.”
Wouldn’t this also take a lifetime?

What does this even mean?
Does it mean that I shouldn’t be in a (healthy) relationship then?

I thought there are no rules.

I never believed (and still don’t believe) that you can control when you fall in love,

but then does that make falling in love,
foolishness, child’s play,
a naïve concept that people cling to because they adore the feelings?

Love is for the big leaguers.

Love is a choice that you make every single day.

I choose to love myself every day.
I choose to love you every day.
Do you choose yourself too,

then do you choose me?

I made the choice to love myself first only recently.

I also discovered that not only was love inside of me,

am love all along,
Skeptical. (Quote.) — May 19, 2016

Skeptical. (Quote.)

Loving someone is hard and active, not easy and passive. When you sign up to actually love people – no fakers allowed – then you sign up for a life of runny noses, awkward car rides, hugs that last too long, pauses that demand no noise, and admitting you were wrong. If you want to actually love people then you have to be willing to be wrong.
Love is forgiveness. And it’s atonement. And it’s basically like putting your soul in a washing machine – it’s not some gentle cycle, it’s a fierce whipping that rings you out good.
It makes the stains fade. Best of all, it fills the holes.
– Hannah Brencher