Baby baby, I feel crazy…




You never think it could happen to you. It could never be you. YOU would never be that stupid; especially if you managed to escape on abusive relationship.

But that’s the thing — you don’t realize you’re in an abusive relationship until that much later and until you feel so stuck you don’t know what to do or where to go.

The healing process is such a sticky stretch of time.

I can say this and that. I can act this way and that way. But sometimes in the middle of the day I’ll be afraid. Afraid to say something, afraid to do something, afraid to suggest something in my current relationship because of how past relationships played out. It’s not that I’m comparing my current relationship to my past ones, it’s just a fear. A fear that was relevant during a long period of time in my life and though I know I’m with someone who cares and who wouldn’t hurt me and who hasn’t hurt me for almost a year now, sometimes I can’t help but still be scared. To still hold back certain things.

Do you remember who you were before people told you who to be?

Sometimes I think I figured my own mind out, but then something happens or something is brought up to remind me that NOPE. Hella nope. I didn’t figure out shit.

While looking for the photo I attached above, which is yes, me; I ran into a bunch of other old photos. Ones I forgot about and ones that made me both mad and sad. I’ve never felt compelled to really delete photos or posts or a time frame of my life no matter how bad it was because pain helps you grow. However for this frame of time, I would happily delete everything.

As the days turn into weeks and months, and the events of that span of time start to fade away the reality is they’re not really fading but being phased out by new memories. I don’t like talking about triggers because I feel like it’s bad juju (I grew up in a household where you should never reveal your weaknesses) and because it’s not anyone’s business but mine really. I never have much to say considering when I am triggered, I withdraw from communication and hide away to myself.

Which in my current relationship my boyfriend is trying to get me to stop doing that and instead talk about it, if there’s anything he can help me with he wants to be there to help. Or even to just listen to what’s going on in my mind. And it’s not to use it against me later but to help me understand that he thinks I’m completely amazing despite my past and what people have conditioned me to believe. And that too is a scary thing to overcome.

I don’t really remember where I was going or why I decided to write this entry especially considering how vague everything turned out to be… maybe I’m still not ready to fully talk about it the way I want to/need to in order to heal, but maybe some time soon.

At least this is one step towards that.

Do you feel like a man, when you push her around?

Today last year was Easter.

I have a super private “blog” app I keep on my phone that I only write in when either something makes me incredibly sad or angry. I hardly post any happy things in there but lately I have been. So there’s been more happy posts and happy screenshots going on. I have a tendency to go back and read these posts as a I wonder what I was doing one year ago today thing. I did this a lot with my LiveJournal’s back in the day too.

Nick had said we’d go to Disney; it has been a thing I do — spend Easter at Disney. But the night before he had stayed up late gaming with his friends like stayed up till 7am gaming as he had been the whole week and weeks before that. Knowing his pattern, him sleeping that late meant he wasn’t going to get up until 3pm the next day and no matter how I asked he wouldn’t put that into consideration.

So when Easter Day came around I was obviously pretty pissed off about it. I remember being upset and tired of this shit — I hate empty promises and I hate liars. It was pretty much a month and a half of pent up irritation.

He walked over, grabbed me and slammed me into the couch pinning me down screaming at me to quit acting like a child. No matter how hard I tried to kick him or if I tried to push him off he would just tighten his grip and keep screaming at me. It gave me a massive panic attack that he told me to get over.


Word Vomit | Too Hopped Up on Drugs

So, 3 years ago I went through a pretty massive mental breakdown and despite the years of therapy I was in for my anxiety I made the choice I told myself I would never give in to — I got prescription drugs to help me cope with my sudden spike in anxiety because my marriage at the time was pretty much imploding on itself.

And you know, it wasn’t so bad. I mean adjusting sucked but besides that, it helped me achieve that sense of relief and calmness I needed to stop my mind (and my heart rate) to feel like it was trying to out dubstep each other each morning and night (which believe me, sucks up a lot more energy than you’d think on a daily basis). It helped me control my anger and my emotions and allowed me to get into meditation a little easier until I felt like I didn’t need the help of drugs as much anymore (though I still took Zoloft on a regular basis, I didn’t take Colozo as often anymore).

Fast forward to like a year or two ago; I started dating someone new who I *thought* at the time was a *decent* person. But turned out to be seriously awful as fuck. He forced me quit my meds cold turkey by force and that resulted in 3 months of withdrawal symptoms that he cared nothing about but watched me suffer and throw up constantly. So I’ve been without meds for almost 2 years now.

Fast forward to now — he took back my iPhone and my PS4 along with all the “stuff” he’s been so desperately been trying to get from my apartment that he left here (which turned out to be a snowboard, two speakers he never even wanted, a jar of rice, a throw pillow and 3 dvd’s). He’s been trying to find a reason to get INTO my apartment for MONTHS after I told him that he’s not allowed in my home EVER AGAIN. Yet he still kept trying to find reasons to come to my front door. I told him I’d leave his stuff at the front office so he wouldn’t have a reason to get through the gate but argued with me that I was being “irresponsible” for not giving him the stuff he left here back. Not to mention he didn’t even SAY anything about it until 3 months after he left and when he found out I was flying out to Texas to hang out with my new boyfriend. Clearly he didn’t care about his stuff THAT much if he NEVER SAID ANYTHING FOR THREE MONTHS. But yet, I’m the bad guy. As always. Okay. Makes sense. I guess.

But apparently now he’s telling my roommate that I did nothing around the apartment we lived in together (even though all he did was complain, trash the place and failed to do the only TWO chores I ever asked him — take out the trash and clean the cat liter), didn’t pay rent, didn’t pay bills, didn’t buy groceries, didn’t even pay for his own gas even though he was the one working (4 hours a day for 4 days a week but whatever) because I was too hopped up on drugs all the time.

Uhm… what drugs?

I’ve never been prescribed Xanax. I never had Zoloft in that apartment and the only thing I had was a bottle of Colozopam that I couldn’t even find until after I moved out of that apartment. But apparently those two drugs make you into a zombie that makes it so that you lay around doing nothing, right? Yeah, that’s TOTALLY what those two drugs do. I don’t see where people get their info from considering it’s not from doctors and they don’t give a shit enough to Google things. They just make up some sort of excuse or reason for things and RUN WITH IT into a fuckin wall because it makes no damn sense.

To which my roommate countered saying that I finish her laundry for her and fold her pants for her when I put them in her laundry bin when they’re done and place them in her room, I clean the kitchen, I make sure the cats have food and water, I do the dishes when she works too much and try and make sure the place is as clean as my anxiety allows me to.

Thanks Harmony <3.

To which he had no response for.

He also dared to say he missed my cat Sophie and how much he loved her. Except he would grab his cat Jane by her neck (I wouldn’t call what he did scruffing because she was clearly yelping for help), throw her on the couch and scream at her when she did any little bad thing.


I know I shouldn’t let it bother me. People will always pick and choose things about you to say to other people to make you look bad and them look good. Doesn’t mean it’s true. And even if they do tell others, the people who KNOW YOU (and the people who should MATTER) know better and know the real story. So the fact he’s going around saying things like that shouldn’t matter. Everyone knows what I do and what I don’t do. I don’t need to justify or defend myself. Not to mention he’ll tell anyone who listens that his mom has a “severe mental illness” when in reality she has anxiety and she just keeps to herself.

You can tell a lot about a person by what they say about their mama.

My blogs and social media are a timeline of my every day life. Go ahead, tell people this and that. But that’s not what the time stamps on my social media say.

Fuckin idiot.

And on any other day I’d say…

Today was a special day at some point of my life. It was significant. And the reason why doesn’t really matter anymore.

I feel like it should be weird I don’t talk to my ex husband anymore. Or it should be weird that we’re not friends but honestly, it doesn’t feel weird at all. That bond or connection we had before is completely gone and besides asking him if he has something of mine or information I need for documents that happened in our old life I find no reason to talk to him and I’m totally okay with that.

It should be weird to stop talking to someone you’ve talked to every single day since you were 17, shouldn’t it? For some reason for me, it’s not. I guess I’m one of the lucky ones.

Lucky if you consider the fact that my ex husband was creeping around behind my back and lying to my face and turning into some monster I didn’t know over the span of a year thanks to someone he claimed he “saw as a little sister” then dates her after you file for divorce even though she’s in her own country now and to find out shortly after he moves to her country like you can just do that or something.

You seriously don’t know how shady or how stupid people can really be until you divorce them.

I don’t even hate him anymore. I don’t hate her either. They deserve each other.

This year, is my year and I refuse to let them take another year of my time after the two they already took.

I have a legitimate family to take care of and legitimate legal business to handle.

Speaking of…

I’ve been watching YouTube videos based on watercolor. Peoples speed sketches and tutorials. Finding out that I can in fact watercolor my Frozen adult coloring book. Like, that’s awesome news. Buuuuut, I kinda wish I had watercolor pencils to work with since it would be easier than working with gel watercolor paints and making a mess. But who knows, maybe the mess will be fun. I figure it’ll help me practice getting the hang of it all before I start my own sketches and stuff.

Speaking of my family…

Jane is begging to be fed. Cat diets are such a struggle when they give you sad eyes. Sigh.

How can you say no to that face?!

My heart is pounding, but it’s just a conversation

SPiNNiNG: Take Your Time by Sam Hunt

This song has been on heavy repeat all week. I don’t even remember how I came across it again but I’m super glad I did.

I feel like the world is spinning way too fast and I’m struggling to keep up. To keep things in line. But there’s this boy and he’s like a tornado in my so neatly kept world. He shakes everything up, throws things I had solid opinions on and throws them around until all that’s left is me. The me I am today. The me who is no longer a victim but a fighter. The me who will not give any fucks. The me who if you show me you don’t care, I’ll show you I don’t care even more. The me who’s free to be excited again and happy over the smallest things without having to keep her happiness in check. The me who runs around malls and grocery stores and places with pretty lights.


There’s this boy and though I haven’t known him for long; he’s helped me feel more confident in my skin to the point where I’m wearing dresses and skirts (with cute kitty tights, but still, it’s a step). He makes me feel like I’m worth something — and I know you’re never suppose to put that power into someone elses hand. YOU are suppose to KNOW YOUR OWN worth but it’s nice when someone comments on it too. I am still after all human. There’s this boy who is content as shit just sitting with me looking out at the water for hours into the night holding my hand. There’s this boy, who doesn’t rush me into anything, doesn’t force me into anything (except when it comes to homework). There’s this boy and he’s the most polite and respectful boy I’ve ever dated. To have someone respect you after going so long without that… it’s a strange feeling. I know I shouldn’t but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like this is just a figment of my imagination. Like all of this isn’t real. How could this be real? How could someone like Nick be into someone like me? I’m a total mess. A total and complete chaos of a mess.

I know you’re suppose to dwell on things and I try my best not to. I don’t find myself reaching back as much as I use to… but I wonder how M feels that he destroyed his marriage. That I actually left. That I found someone who cares about me, who actually takes care of me and makes me happy. We were never meant to be baby, we just happened. And I guess at some point we just rolled with it cause what can we do now?

I have not loved someone in possibly years. I haven’t felt this bubbly happiness or this urge to just watch him in years. In literal years. And it’s such an intense and scary feeling. A feeling I don’t think I’m worth of and especially not from someone like Nick.

Life works in extremely mysterious ways.

I got to know, is there a place for me?

NOW SPiNNiNG: Who Can I Run To by Xscape

A long long time ago I had a boyfriend who lived in Florida (ironic and random, right?). He was, for lack of better word, intense. It was one of those short lived seriously serious yet seriously not that serious relationships. If that makes sense. He has recently crept back into my mind and I’m not really sure why, considering there isn’t much to remember. But there is.

I remember sitting in my childhood best friends room during her birthday party. Her cousin c-walking around her room, her trying to copy his moves and me talking to my boyfriend. “Yeah, just watching my friends cousin c-walk… it’s kinda hot.” “oh you think that’s hot? Alright, I’ll c-walk for you one day baby.” He was ghetto. A ghetto raver/racer/c-walker who wore beanies and hats. He had a low sleepy voice. We would stay up until 5AM my time talking all night long. I don’t even remember about what. Not realizing back then that it was 8AM his time. Gawd, our relationship must had been exhausting.

I remember when we broke up and all this drama spewed. Like I said, he was intense. And a little hurtful. I remember bits and pieces of it. I also remember dating a mutual friend so I guess I wasn’t that torn up about it.

It’s one of those things that bring a smile and a scowl to my face. He’s vanished off the face of the planet a long time ago, I couldn’t even try to contact him now if I tried. But I do wonder how he is, if he remembers me.

It’s kinda funny when you look back on past relationships and hope that the other person is doing nothing but well.

I was waiting for some magical moment…

When I was sixteen, I was hanging out in an AOL chat room one night (like I did every night) and a boy who frequented the same chat room sent me an IM which I thought was weird because he hardly ever talked and I couldn’t figure out why he decided that night to IM me (not to be creepy but I legit still have that first conversation saved in one of my email account archives somewhere). We got the talking and after about a month or so of back and forth, tug and pull, does he like me or does he not like me — I finally asked him out on May 29th 2001. True, we hadn’t met yet, he lived in the city which was an hour away. We didn’t meet until maybe a week or two after that. My good friend (who’s still a good friend) dragged me with her the next time I was in the city to meet him and it was… weird. For someone who had daydreamed of their first kiss their whole life it was just… strange. If that makes sense.

After that seeing each other was a little complicated at first until he came over the first time and met my parents, after that it was a little easier to make it out to the city. For 16 year olds we were pretty crafty with hiding our long distance relationship from our parents prior to you know, not hiding it. Insane is the word that comes to mind when I think back of all the ways we tried to see each other.

Our romance only lasted about 5 months (but it felt like foreverrrr) and there was a lot of drama, mostly from my end. I was a bat crazy psycho (sorry dude) over everything. And the heartbreak that came from our final break up was so painful I didn’t know what to do with myself for literally a year. It was bad. Really bad. It literally destroyed me bad. But looking back it wasn’t just the relationship itself that destroyed me, it went on into things much deeper than that. I think I pretty much just used the relationship as an excuse to let all of the hurt from everything else surface and at some point it all got so mixed up I couldn’t tell what from what anymore.

I thought I’d never get over him.

But now, twelve years later (holy crap I can’t believe it’s been that long!) I can honestly say I barely think of him. I do wonder how he’s doing when his name pops up on a mutual friends Facebook status or what he’s up to or if we could still be friends today (then I think… no. Why would I want to do that?!). I can’t say I think back to our good times because I don’t remember them. I do remember he use to make sure there was Cherry Pepsi for me when I came over and he’d buy me Cherryheads (which was my favorite candy then — and now).

I do think about how he was the perfect person to destroy me. We didn’t have anything in common, we got along on a pretty shallow level and honestly there was nothing I really liked about him. Isn’t that strange? To be so in love with someone at some point of your life, think back and realize there was nothing even there to begin with? Love is truly blind as shit. We weren’t even friends while we were dating. He didn’t support anything I wanted to do with my life and he gave crappy advice. But I grew so much from that point of my life and I think that’s what really matters to me.

Everyone worries about their first kiss being perfect or losing their vee card to the perfect person but honestly, when you grow up and you get down to experience, your first anything sort of just fades into the background. It’s almost as important as when your first tooth fell out.

It becomes irrelevant.

Dear Zel…

I know right now, at this point of your life things are complete and utter shit. I know you feel helpless, stuck and afraid and I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to remove you from the situation you’re in now. I’m sorry that you’ll still be living the nightmare within the next six months and I’m sorry that it will only get much worse from here.

If I could tell you anything, right now, it would be this: you will lose your friends. You will lose the one person who is the most important to you. When this will be over, you will have no one and nothing. You will also lose your best friend, and that will kill you. Even ten years later.

But despite all that, everything will get better. You won’t understand why these things are happening or what it’s all suppose to mean and it will be hard to pick yourself back up but you will. You’ll make mistakes along the way and hurt a boy who never had the intention of hurting you because your guard will still be up and well because let’s face it, you’re a bitch and sometimes you like making mistakes. And that’s totally okay. But the boy will forgive you. Though he’ll do a super jackass thing that will hurt you ten times worse, but let’s not get into that now… we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Or well, when you get there, cause I was already there and all.

I’m getting off track, we tend to do that, don’t we? Can tell you right now, ten years from now you’ll still for the most part be you. The parts of you that save your sanity but other parts… the parts you might like the most about yourself will be muted. I’m still working on how to unmute them.

Point is, right now sucks. Summer will suck harder. But you’ll be okay.

I know I said earlier I was sorry for not being strong enough and a part of me is sorry. A part of me wishes this never happened. A part of me wishes I had known better. That you had known better. But who were you going to tell? Who was going to understand? Everyone already had their assumptions and that was bad enough. What if everyone had known the truth? What good would it had done? To this day, I still think none. Because everyone would think the *duh* solution would to leave, like it would had been that easy. Like you weren’t scared for your life. No one understands that until they’re in that themselves. I’m sorry in general that you had to go through that — no one should ever have to. But I can not say I’m sorry it happened. For one, let’s be real. You kinda deserved it. And second it made you into a stronger person. It will take a lot of time, but you will be a stronger person because of it. That’s not to excuse the mark and mental issues it left you with but still.

This is the beginning of the end. But you’ll be okay. I promise. ♥

The beginning of the end…

o309o3 is a date deeply buried in the put of my mind. Where it should stay. But it was the beginning of an end and ten years ago today was the start of a series of life changing moments that would hit me full force and take everything and everyone away from me.

It’s crazy to think that one person would have the ability to flip your life into chaos before your own eyes. It’s crazy to think that it could happen to you. And when you find yourself trapped in that type of relationship — that type of situation — it’s far too late to do anything to fix it. It feels like there are no secret escape routes, there are no exits and there is no one to help you. It feels like the only way out, is to kill yourself. And to find yourself in that type of situation? It’s hard to explain, it’s hard to make others understand and trying to reflect on it, ten years later? Everything is hazy at this point. There are bits and pieces that spark up the most intense emotions for me and there are other things I struggle to remember because I’ve wiped it from my memory.

Ten years ago I was reckless and regardless of what anyone says, I still say I had this coming. I tried getting over someone else by moving on to someone else. To someone I barely knew and rushing things. Maybe that was the biggest mistake of all, the rushing of things.

And while this whole thing changed and destroyed my life and the me I knew, I’m thankful for it. I grew because of it, it guided me to my husband and now, ten years later I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to do. I’m happy, I’m accomplished and while I’m not yet fully stable, I know I’m getting there and that’s better than still being destroyed.

So to you, thank you. For ruining me. Thank you for six months of hell. It showed me what love REALLY looks like and it allowed me to rebuild myself into a better stronger version of who Zel was.

It’s just emotions, taking me over…

It’s over and done, but the heartache lives on… inside. And who is the one you’re clinging on instead of me, tonight? And where are you now? Now that I need you. Tears on my pillow. Wherever you go.

You’ll never see me fall apart…

Ah. November 29th, here you are. Again! Okay, that’s not fair.

Once upon a time in a time far far away there was a girl suffering from the deepest heartache she will ever endure in her entire life. I mean, EVER. I mean guys, it was painful to breathe. I may be over exaggerating but I mean, according to memory… maybe it was because it was my first real heartbreak and I gave him everything only to be, in the end, ditched and lied to and it was awful. But what did I really expect? We were kids and I think at that point, I had forgotten that. You don’t find the love of your life at 16. I mean, maybe you do, but most don’t.

There was a time when the 29th of every month killed me. I refused to do anything. I wouldn’t go to school, I would call out of work, I would lay in bed and literally sleep all. day. long. For about two years. I kid you not. All my friends gave me the same advice when I needed to know how to let go — keep yourself busy. So I took 8 classes in high school (including an early morning Saturday class) and worked two jobs, one was 6 days a week after school and another was one day a week between school and my main job and yet, with all that going on… it didn’t really help. I still spent the very little free time I had thinking about him. And I don’t know, maybe I just wasn’t ready to let him go. At that time I thought I was never going to be ready to let him go but I didn’t understand why it was so hard since he obviously didn’t care about me. Sure we were “friends” but in private. He didn’t want anyone knowing we were friends, not even our mutual friends. So, I mean. And yet I let him treat me that way.

And to make it worse we agreed to be friends with benefits which, not kidding, lasted a year and a half but he didn’t want to date me. Or let people know we were friends. Or anything. I pretty much let the boy who shattered me get away with it and use me. I figured you know, him wanting me for ten minutes was better than him not wanting me at all. And now, looking back, that’s the dumbest logic ever but at the time it made total sense in my state of denial. And yeah at times I thought he’d get over it and realize he was still in love with me — which trust me, he wasn’t.

The last time I saw him was 9 years ago when he slept with me and promptly shoo’d me out of his apartment after. I haven’t seen or heard from him since and I honestly don’t really feel like I’m missing out. The last time I saw him, I betrayed someone who did care about me because he betrayed me first and at the time that’s the person I was, obsessed with revenge. But this person, he made me realize that I was worth more than what my ex was doing. I was worth to be loved, truly loved. He got me over the most painful heartbreak of my life.

The number 29 doesn’t bother me anymore but because of that intense pain, it’s always going to tug just a little at me. Like I’m suppose to be remembering something but most of the time I don’t and I end up brushing it off.

I think tonight I’m thinking about it because my puppy is sick and he’s named after our acronym. I went back to the day we got him, to that summer and he was there. I remember how tiny Jay was and how fluffy and full of life and now as I was saying good night to him he looked so sad and defeated. He’s a strong pup, he always bounces back and even though he’s 11 now, I’m sure he’ll be okay. He’s gotta be okay…