He was one of the first people to start messaging me when I created my online dating profile. He had a shaved head, deep set eyes, and was covered in tattoos. In conversation, he was dominant, but inquisitive. I thought I did well. He was young, divorced, and a father to a cute little boy. He seemed to love learning, philosophy, and bantering about the nature of the universe and what it meant to be…
She stumbled sober through life for nearly nine years,while blinders shielded her eyes and hands covered her ears.Her husband embodied a vulture who consumed her self-worth,while she reminded herself that it could always be worse. “He never laid a hand on me,” she argued, frustration in her voice.“I may have cried in times of intimacy, but in a way that was my choice.I told him to go until he finished, and so that’s just what…
I feel overwhelmed. I’ve made myself into an object. I have nothing to live for. I don’t have the courage to die. I feel lonely, unloved, and guilty. I feel guilty because my own actions are to blame for being lonely and unloved. I’m constantly rejected until it’s convieneint – so be the existence of an object. I feel as though I’ve worked harder and others have it easier. They have more than I do,…
I feel like I’m chasing after pain. I want to feel it. I want to be punished. I like to see a man that’s in pain. I identify with that. There’s a soul-crushing loneliness that a man feels when he’s been tortured. I identify with that. I feel that loneliness too. I can tell them what they need to hear, because I know what I need to hear. We aren’t so different, and I think…
Dear M, Do you remember when we first met? I was practicing baseball with my mom in the front yard – I was on little league then – and you were watching… getting close, but wouldn’t make the first move. My mother encouraged me to talk to you, to make a friend. And we became friends. Best friends. And I loved you. We explored the world together, even if the world was limited to M——…
I’m sitting alone and sober in my hotel room, after 5 days of drinking until I stumbled walking. I’d have done it again tonight if I wasn’t made to hand over my alcohol and my money. What am I running from? This pain in the center of my mass that feels all-consuming — well I’ve felt that before, and I stayed sober. Honestly, I feel that pain any time I’m left alone long enough with…
When I began to reflect on what I would write tonight, I found it hard to determine who my audience for this letter would be. Who do I need to tell my feelings to in order to feel better. My best friend? Perhaps only anethestically would that work; but the comfort would be temporary. D? He doesn’t have the capacity to understand. M? To bow to him as absent determinant of who I was, who…
Dear M, You’ve been on my mind a lot lately, but I haven’t really felt much pain. The thought of you would rip me to shreds, but now I don’t feel anything. Have I become stronger? Or did I give you every peice of humanity I had? I feel numb – and I test this numbness with thoughts of you. Can I feel anything? Not like I used to; I just feel calm. I hope…
“Take this little (poison) pill, it’ll help you sleep.The other that we’ll give you will wipe away your grief.Don’t fret about the side effects, they’ll be gone in a few weeks,”the doctor said with confidence, lying through his teeth. “What kind of drug is this?” asked my cautious mom.“A mood stabilizer, it will keep your daughter calm.” “Risperdal: an atypical antipsychotic” I read when I got home.Perhaps she’d have declined if only she had known.…
I once lived in a world where I was a queen,an unguided fantasy, a wide-awake dream. Delusions of grandeur, I had a whole world to save.My only mission had been to stay out of my grave. The king’s name was Eoto, and only to me could he speak.In my most torturous nights, he’d wipe tears from my cheek. With every tale comes a villain, and no exception was made.Doom was the character who declared my…